“I don’t want the car, Jax.” She frowns.
“What if I say it’s my car and you’re just borrowing it?”
“Jax.” She shakes her head against the pillow.
“I want you and Hope to be safe, Ellie, and I know you can get a car for yourself, but until you do that, please use the Rover,” I plead.
“I looked up the price of the phone you got me, Jax,” she says, narrowing her eyes.
SHIT.
“I bought it off someone for fifty dollars, Ellie,” I lie, and she closes her eyes.
“I hate feeling like I owe people. I have always done everything on my own, and it’s really difficult for me to accept help,” she confesses then opens her eyes, dropping her voice. “You and your family have been so amazing, and I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of your generosity.”
“Baby,” I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her closer to me, as close as I can get her, before her body freezes up, “have you asked me for anything?”
“No,” she whispers, looking at my throat.
“Have you asked my family for anything?”
“No,” she repeats, and I give her a squeeze, bringing her gaze back up to meet mine.
“Then you’re not taking advantage. If it makes you feel better, we can say the car is on loan from me to you, and when you’re done with it, I can sell it off. But until then, please use it.”
“Have I told you that you’re annoying?” she asks then huffs when I smile.
“A few times.”
“You’re annoying. Bossy. And annoying.”
“You already said I’m annoying.” I grin.
“It needs repeating,” she mumbles under her breath.
“No more silent treatment,” I tell her on a squeeze, dipping my face closer to hers. “I don’t like it.”
“Well, I don’t like you buying me expensive phones or cars, so we’re even.”
“One more thing we need to talk about,” I warn.
“What?” She frowns.
“Last night, you brought up the name Mellissa,” I say, watching as her face loses color and she tries to pull away. “Stop,” I growl, pulling her back to me when she attempts to tug my arms from around her.
“You have a girlfriend. We shouldn’t,” she cries in distress.
“Ellie, listen to me,” I state firmly, and her body stills and her eyes go to my throat again. “I do not have a girlfriend, not yet anyways.” I gently nudge her, feeling her stiffen further. “And when I do have one, I guarantee you will be the first to know.”
“I have a headache.” She breathes out a puff off air that hits my chest.
“I’ll get you some aspirin and some food in a minute, but only after you tell me that you understand what I just said.”
“I understand,” she wheezes out as her nails dig into my arm.
“Good.” I give her a squeeze, dip my face, and brush my mouth across hers before rolling out of bed and heading to the bathroom.
Walking back into the room, I’m not surprised to see that Ellie is no longer in my bed. I’m sure she’s down the hall freaking out about what happened this morning. Instead of giving her time to think too much, I go to her door and knock twice. It only takes a moment for her to open the door, and when she does, her eyes meet mine then drop to my mouth before moving to my throat, when she mutters, “I think I’m just going to get back into bed.”
“You’re going to take these,” I say, handing her two Advil, “and then we’re going to have breakfast. After that, we’ll go pick up Hope from my parents, so get dressed. We’ll head out in fifteen.”
“I… We’re not going to eat here?” she asks, tugging at the bottom of my shirt.
“Best hangover food you’ll ever have is extra greasy and from a place called Jones’ on Main.”