Page 97 of Bump and Run

“Hey…” I say.

Junior steps to the side to invite me in and I have to force my feet to move into the living room. It’s usually a mess — exactly what you’d expect from two college guys — but it’s been completely straightened up and… Is that air freshener I smell?

He closes the door and takes my hand, sending a quick shiver from my palm to my shoulder. “Come with me.”

He opens the door to his room and my mouth sags. It’s even more spotless than the living room. The laundry is folded and put away. The trash can is empty. The bed is made. His desk is clear.

And candles. Scented ones.

“Junior, what’s going on?”

He guides me to his desk chair and sits me down. “I need to tell you something,” he says, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He grabs the chair beneath me and rolls me a little closer to him.

“Okay…”

“But I know you had something you had to say, too, so you can go first.”

“Oh, no… you go on ahead. I feel like you’re a little more…” I glance around the room, “prepared.”

“I am,” he smiles.

“Then you should go first.”

“Okay…” He inhales a deep breath and makes total eye contact with me. “Eliza…”

Eliza?

“Wait…” I hold up a hand. “I—”

He grabs my hand and holds it on my lap. “Let me finish… please.”

I fall silent, locked in place beneath his firm grip and handsome eyes. “Okay.”

Junior smiles at me again. “Ellie, I like you.” He shakes his head. “I feel like a damn second grader saying it like that, but… it’s true. I’m… absolutely crazy about you.”

Oh, my god…

“Why?”

“Why?” he laughs. “What do you mean, why? You’re perfect.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Ellie, I could have anybody. I’m not going to sugar-coat it. We both know that. I have a reputation, as you mentioned the second time we spoke to each other, but I only want you now. Since the moment I saw you, you’ve completely wrecked me.”

“I’ve wrecked you?”

“I want you in my life,” he continues. “Not just in my bed anymore.”

“Junior…” I whisper, but only because my throat is clenched closed so tightly, I can barely speak louder than that. “We can’t.”

“We keep saying that, but…” He leans over and squeezes my hands a little harder. “We are. We have been and we can.”

“No, we can’t…” I pull my hands out from under his.

“Ellie…”

“Junior, this doesn’t change anything,” I argue. “You’re still you and I’m still me and my father—”