First & Forever

Chapter 25: Eloise

APRIL

Will chuckles as I pour the can of Tiffany blue paint out into the tray. "This is so you."

"Your jewelry box helped in the selection process." I smile, watching him tape off where the slant in the ceiling meets the wall of the bonus room. The bonus room that I'll officially be taking as my own garage apartment, of sorts. It doesn't have its own entrance, but it's about three times the size of my current room and separate enough from the rest of the house that I at least won't have to whisper on the phone late at night.

"You're going to love this setup. I'll be jealous when I'm sharing some tiny room with two other guys," Will says over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I hope so. It saves a lot of money, so I figured I'd give commuting a shot. At least for my first year. I just wish I had my own entrance."

He laughs a little nervously. "Only for when I'm home, I hope."

I hide a smile. That's not where my head was, but...interesting.

"That's right, I forgot you're the jealous type now," I tease, tapping his cheek with my paint brush.

He rolls his lips, wiping the paint off with his hand before lunging to put it on my shoulder. I swipe at him again, but miss.

"Oh, Elle..." He tsks, swiping his own brush from the paint tray. "You already know I'm going to win this game." He moves quickly, flicking the brush, splattering paint across the entire front of my body.

I laugh, gaping at my paint splattered tanktop and shorts. "Such a cheap move."

He holds his hands up defensively. "Hey, you started this."

"I'm sorry..." I smile sweetly, walking towards him like I'm going to kiss him before I pull my hand up to his face wiping paint down his jaw and neck. "And I'm going to finish it." I giggle patting the rest off on his shirt.

He narrows his eyes, drops his brush on the drop cloth and starts tickling my sides and thighs.

"Say I win and I'll stop." He laughs as I squeal and squirm down to the floor.

"Okay - Okay!" I squeal between breaths.

He grabs my hands, pinning them beside my head as my chest rises and falls at a rapid pace. I meet his eyes over top of me and the paint brush falls out of my hand in surrender.

Yeah, he wins.

That face, those eyes.

"You win," I breathe. "You always win."

His smile softens as he lets my hands go, slowly lowering his paint covered face to mine, my heart beating faster with every second that passes. I hold my breath as my lips part and feel him linger there, his hand on the side of my face before his lips finally meet mine, tender and commanding all at the same time.

"We both win," he says, peering down at me like he never wants to look away.

"I love when you look at me like that," I whisper delicately, hoping it's okay to admit.

He strokes my cheekbone with his thumb, studying my face with a handsome half smile. "I love looking at you like that."

Dear Lord in heaven, I love him. And all I can think about is telling him. I want to tell him over and over again, but I don't. I never do. Not anymore.

He hasn't said those words since the night he ended things back in January and I'm not about to mess up what we have right now by saying them first. Not when we have such a good thing going.