“That’s not what I said,” he softly states. I lower my eyes to avoid his, but he tilts up my chin, and our gazes connect. “I meant, the more you give in to what they expect, the more they’ll demand it.” He drops his arm, and I swallow hard. “They want to sell scandalous tales to magazines by twisting reality. You play into it, and it makes you look bad every time, so if you quit giving a shit, maybe they’ll stop targeting you.”
I gulp, blinking hard. Eli’s split personalities give me whiplash.
“Well, that’s easier said than done.” I shrug. “The media portrays me in a negative light no matter what I do or say, but I’ve learned that if I’m presentable and look like I have my shit together, it’s harder for them to make up bullshit headlines.”
Eli looks around, squinting before meeting my eyes. “You don’t have to worry about being judged here. No paps to follow you around, and I swear I won’t take pics of you looking like a hot mess and sell them to the media.”
“Do I need to get that in writing?” My shoulders fall as I release a small laugh. “Actually, the idea of being secluded and away from all that was what drew me to the cabin in the first place.”
He presses a hand to his bare, sweaty chest. “Was I the second?”
“Hardly,” I reply dryly, holding back a smirk, considering I was shocked to see him.
“Well, don’t worry…” He steps back and mixes the meat and cheese into the bowl of eggs. “You won’t even know I’m here. Bruno and I are very chill.”
Furrowing my brows, I shake my head. “Somehow, I doubt that.”
Once my espresso is done, I set it on the table and walk back to my room to grab my phone. Zane hasn’t responded to my last text, so I send him another one.
Cameron: Babe, are you on your way? There’s been a little mix-up. Ryan told his friend he could come here, so he’s staying in the guest room. Just a heads-up. Let me know when you leave the city. I miss you!
I go downstairs and am immediately bombarded by Bruno. He gallops into the house after being outside, and he’s in my face, sniffing me.
The dog has never heard of personal space. Another reason I love cats more.
“Okay, go away…” I shoo, stepping back, hoping he doesn’t follow. Before I can say another word, Chanel charges at him, hissing.
“Chanel, no!” I scold, though she couldn’t hurt Bruno even if she tried. She might piss him off, but that’s about it. “Elijah, get control of your dog!” I squeal, running around the kitchen table. “Stay! Sit! Stop!”
Of course, the asshole laughs.
“Bruno, heel,” Elijah commands. The dog immediately stops, goes to Eli, and sits as though nothing happened.
I’m nearly out of breath from chasing Chanel, who doesn’t listen at all.
“Your dog…or horse, rather…is trying to kill my cat and eat her as a snack. Can’t you lock him up or something?”
Bruno licks his chops and pants with his tongue out. I shoot daggers at him as Chanel finally saunters toward me.
“My animal listens. Yours is the prissy bitch,” he states, busying himself in the kitchen.
I gasp, ready to murder them both.
“It’s not his fault,” Eli says, looking over his shoulder at me. “She looks like a meaty, hairless dinner.”
Grabbing Chanel, I hold her tightly to my chest. “She does not. She’s adorable and better for my allergies.” I kiss her head, and she leans against me.
“Do you like ham?” he asks, pouring the egg mixture into a pan.
“What?”
He turns and looks at me. “Ham. Do you like it?”
I shrug. “Yeah, I guess.”
“For your omelet,” he reiterates. “Otherwise, I can do sausage.”
“Um…ham is fine. I’m going to put Chanel in my room.” I turn toward the staircase before he can say another word. Between him offering to make breakfast, our pets trying to murder each other, and his sudden subject change, I’m at a loss of what to think about Elijah being here.
When we were kids, Eli would come over to play with Ryan while his mom worked as our housekeeper. Eventually, I started hanging out with them too, and always looked forward to the days he was there. His sister, Ava, would tag along, but we were never close. As time went on, my mother’s constant pressure to be classy, elegant, and sophisticated took a toll on me. She wanted me to hang out with the girls she approved of who held a specific social class. It was always about money and power to my parents, and I quickly became too snobby to be Elijah’s friend. He wrote me off but remained best friends with my brother, who never cared about that sort of thing.
Eli made snide comments about what I wore, how I spoke or acted, and who was in my circle. Nothing I did was good enough for him. He never knew he was the only person I wanted to impress. Being friends with Elijah already pissed off my dad, so there was no way he would’ve allowed us to date as teenagers.
But that didn’t matter anyway because he hated me as much as I hated him. The feud continued through high school, and when he’d hang out with Ryan, I was brought back to those days of him thinking less of me because of my friends.
I wasn’t completely innocent, but he escalated the situations. I’m judged by thousands of people who don’t know me, but to have someone I cared about have such harsh opinions of me hurt even worse.
I place Chanel on the bed and realize I forgot her bowls. “I’ll be back,” I tell her before shutting the door.
Once I’m in the kitchen, I grab her food and water. “I’m gonna put these in my room so we can avoid World War Three in the mornings.”
“Between you and me or the animals?”
“Ha. You’re a comedian now.”
“Well, you are scary
