CHAPTER NINE

THEO

I stood outside Elijah's door at midnight and tried to convince myself I could still walk away.

I had fucked up big time. At this point I considered just calling the coach to find out if there was any way he could help me get out of this bet.

I'd spent the last hour pacing my room, arguing with myself. I didn't have to do this. The bet was stupid. Elijah couldn't actually make me do anything I didn't want to do. I could just go to bed and deal with whatever consequences came tomorrow.

But my hand was already knocking before I could chicken out again.

The door opened. Elijah stood there in the same t-shirt and sleep pants from last night, looking at me like he'd known I'd come and there was never any question.

He stepped aside, I walked in and then the lock clicked shut. I gulped, involuntarily.

"You came earlier tonight," he said.

I didn't answer. I just stood in the center of the room with my hands shoved in my pockets, already regretting this.

Elijah moved in front of me, close but not touching. "Take off your shirt."

My jaw clenched. Last night I'd refused and he'd let me leave. Tonight felt different. Tonight felt like if I said no, he'd ask me why. He'd make me explain what I was afraid of.

I grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head slowly, refusing to meet his eyes. Then dropped it on the floor and stood there with my fists at my sides, hating every second of this.

"There," I said. "Happy?"

"Not the word I'd use."

He stepped closer. Close enough that I could feel the heat coming off his body, making me fight the urge to step back because that would only make him advance more. So I kept my eyes fixed on the wall behind him.

Then I felt one finger, trailing down the center of my chest from my sternum to navel, so light I almost thought I'd imagined it. My breath caught and I hated myself for it.

He did it again, slower this time to tease me. I could feel the path his finger traced like it was burning into my skin.

My hands twitched at my sides but I didn't move them or push him away. I had to endure this but of course, the traitorous part of my mind told me there was no “enduring” because I liked this.

Lies. I didn't.

Elijah moved closer. His lips went to my neck, just below my ear. I felt his breath first, then his mouth, pressing soft kisses along my throat. My entire body went rigid.

"Relax," he murmured against my skin.

"I can't—"

"Yes, you can." Another kiss, this one with the slightest brush of his teeth. It didn't hurt but he wanted to let me know just how exposed my throat was to him and how easy it would be for him to—

He sucked slightly and I made a sound I'd deny making if anyone ever asked. I. Fucking. Moaned.

"I'm not doing anything you don't want," he said, his voice low and rough against my neck. "You know that, right?"

I didn't answer. More like I couldn't because my brain stopped functioning as he sucked more on the spot, my eyes rolled back a bit at the pleasure shooting down my spine.

“Fuck…”

“Mhm.” He hummed and I felt him smile.

His hands were on me now. One on my ribs, the other trailing down my stomach. He wasn't grabbing me, just gliding his palm down my body, exploring it.

"Elijah—"

"I know," he said, pulling back enough to look at me. His eyes were so dark and intense and I couldn't look away. "I know, Theodore."

He kept his eyes locked on mine as his hand trailed lower, down my stomach, over my abs and finally stopping just above my waistband. My breathing was ragged and uneven at this point and there was no hiding it.

Then he grabbed my hand.

I tensed but he didn't pull me toward him. Instead he lifted my hand and placed it on his own chest. I could feel his heartbeat under my palm and it was faster than I expected.

So this was affecting him too.

He slid my hand down over his stomach where his muscles tensed under my touch. Then lower and lower until my fingers were at his waistband and he stopped.

I swallowed hard. My hand was right there. Right at the edge. All I had to do was move it an inch lower and—

I hated myself for wanting to and the fact that my fingers were already twitching. I was so desperate to know what it would feel like.

Elijah leaned in, his lips almost brushing my ear. "You can leave whenever you want."

The words hit me like cold water as he stepped back, pulling my hand away, leaving space between us that felt wrong and right at the same time.

I stood there for a few seconds and it was the longest five seconds of my life. He never once looked away from me.

Should I just…

Fuck. I wanted to touch him so bad.

With a deep painful breath, I broke eye contact, grabbed my shirt and walked out.

******

In my own room, I leaned against the door and tried to breathe.

My heart was still racing, my skin burning and worse of all? I was half-hard, that was the worst part because there was no denying it now. No lying to myself about what my body wanted.

I looked down at my hand which he had placed on his waistband and it was shaking.

I punched the door.

The impact sent pain shooting through my knuckles but I barely felt it. I punched it again. And again. Until my hand was screaming and I could focus on that instead of the way Elijah's mouth had felt on my neck or the way his voice had sounded when he said my name.

I pushed off the door and went straight to the shower, turned the water as cold as it would go and stood under the spray until I was shivering and couldn't feel anything except the cold.

But even then, I could still feel the ghost of his finger trailing down my chest.

I pressed my forehead against the tile and stayed there until the water ran warm then hot and I had to get out before I did something stupid like go back to his room.

Back in bed, I lay there staring at the ceiling. My knuckles throbbed. My skin was still too sensitive and through the wall, I could hear Elijah moving around in his room.

I wondered if he was thinking about me. If he was lying in bed replaying what just happened. If he was as affected as I was or if this was all just a game to him.

I rolled over and faced the wall, pressing my palm against it. On the other side, the sounds stopped.

I yanked my hand back and rolled the other way.

Tomorrow I'd call Dana and everything would go back to normal. I wasn't attracted to men. I probably just needed to have sex with Dana or go on a date but that would have to hold for a while because of the wedding.

Just as I started to fall asleep I couldn't help but wonder.

What would have happened if I didn't walk out?