Page 50 of Love Unwritten
Cute?
Shit. Not cute.
Funny. A funny eye roll.
“Figures,” she mutters. “Well, this little chat was great and all…”
“Okay. I’ll stop calling you Eleanor.”
She rocks back on her sneakers. “I should say no…”
“But you won’t because we need you.”
“Fine. I’ll agree, but only if you repeat that again while begging on your knees.”
A short but deep laugh bursts out of me, and it surprises us both.
“Oh my God.”
I lift my palm in the air. “Don’t—”
“You laughed!” Her smile cuts through the icy outer layer of my cold heart. I’ve spent months wondering what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of Ellie’s unbridled happiness, and it’s so much better than I expected.
But the last thing we need is me getting all soft-hearted over a single smile, no matter how much I loved it. So I look up at the ceiling and pray for help.
“I don’t think I’ve heard you laugh since high school.” She seems to speak to herself.
The comment surprises me. “Keeping tabs on me since back then, huh?”
Her cheeks turn pink. “No.”
My body buzzes from the thought. “Are you sure about that?”
“You know, not everyone at Wisteria High was obsessed with you.” Her cheeks morph from a rosy hue to crimson.
“It’s okay if you had a crush on me.” According to Dahlia and Lily, most of the school did.
“You weren’t my type.”
“I was everyone’s type,” I tease, loving the way a flush spreads to her neck.
“First, you laughed, and now you’re making jokes? Who are you and what have you done with the old Rafael?”
I don’t know, but I have a feeling that Ellie might push me into finding out who the new me is, whether I want to or not.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ellie
I show up at the Lopez house bright and early the next morning with a packed suitcase full of my clothes and a pep in my step that was missing all last week.
My boss opens the front door in expensive denim jeans that showcase his muscular thighs, a black T-shirt that is formfitting without being off-putting, and his coveted Richard Mille watch. The diamonds sparkle from the morning sun rising behind me, although I quickly become distracted by the veins running up his arm.
Physically, Rafael is one of the most attractive people I know. Scratch that. He is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying a lot after spending years living in Los Angeles amongst models, actors, and aspiring musicians.
I can’t help the little flutter in my stomach or the skip of my heart whenever I look at him, although I do try my best to ignore it.
I look up to find his dark eyes already laser-focused on my face.