Free Elias (New Adult Romance) (West Bend Saints Book 1) by Sabrina Paige Page B

I came back here.  It had thrown me for a loop.
    The road stretched out in front of me, and the thought of going home, back to the house where I grew up, was a bleak one.
    I didn't know what the hell I was doing, but I didn't want to go home.
    So I turned the car around.

 
     
    Love comforteth like sunshine after rain.
    ~ Shakespeare, Venus and Adonis

 
    It was eleven, but I still wasn't asleep.  After what happened earlier- after I'd cut myself- I should have passed out, gotten the crash after the adrenaline spike, the crash that usually settled things, gave me relief.
    Except this time, I was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness.  There was no adrenaline spike, no crash.  It was still just me and my thoughts.
    When a white light flickered through the window, I paid no attention.  Until it happened a minute later, and then a third time.
    Heart racing, I slid out of bed and stood beside the window, trying to see out without putting my whole face in the window pane.
    It has to be paparazzi, I thought, regretting my choice to stand there.  I could hardly see anything.
    Then the light hit me directly in the eyes.  "Fuck."  I jumped back to the side, anger flooding my veins.  "Son of a bitch."  I turned the latch and pulled up the window pane.  "Whoever the fuck you are, you can get the hell out of here."
    The camera flash I was expecting didn't come.  Instead, I heard Elias' voice.
    "Shit," he said.  "I didn't mean to scare you."
    "What the hell are you doing?"  I yelled, then immediately lowered my voice, mindful of June's house just across the meadow.  My heart was pounding in my chest.  "Are you fucking high or something?  Or are you trying to give me a heart attack?"
    Elias dipped his flashlight to the ground.  "Come down and let me in."
    I exhaled and swore under my breath, heading down the stairs and out to the front porch.  I pulled the door wide open, and Elias stood in the doorway, grinning at me.  "What the fuck are you doing here at eleven o' clock at night?"
    "I wanted to see you," he said.  "Couldn't stop thinking about you."
    I squinted at him.  "Are you drunk?  You smell like stale beer and smoke."
    "What?" he asked.  "No.  I mean, I might have stepped in some beer at the bar."
    "You're showing up here after being at a bar all night?"  I crossed my arms over my chest.  "You think I'm that easy, or just stupid?"
    Elias looked down at the ground, rubbing the toe of his boot into the porch.  When he looked up, he had a sheepish expression on his face.  "Fuck," he said.  "It was a mistake coming here."  He turned around and started to walk away.
    Shit.   I couldn't believe I was about to do this.
    "Wait," I called, and he turned to look at me over his shoulder.  "Come back."
    When he returned, I squinted at him under the porch light.  "You're really not drunk?" I asked.
    "Do I look like it?" he asked.  "Really.  I'm not.  My mother smokes.  My brother works at a bar.  I wasn't planning on coming here."
    "You just took a wrong turn, or what?"  I still didn't move from where I stood.  I wasn't sure whether I wanted to let him in or tell him to go home.  My heart raced, thinking about what might happen if I let him in, what I might want to happen with him.  When I thought about it, I could still feel his lips on mine, his hands on the small of my back.
    A shock of arousal ran through my body at the thought of his touch.
    He shook his head.  "I don't fucking know," he said.  "I just couldn't face going home."
    There was something in the way he said it, standing there with his hands in his pockets, that made him seem vulnerable.  It was just a flash, a chink in his armor, and then it was gone.  But it made me think there was more to him than what I'd seen.
    "So you'd rather spend the night with a stranger than with people you know?" I asked, my voice soft.  I stood close to him, looking up at him in the soft porch light.
    He shrugged.  "Sometimes the