finifugal (adj.)

hating endings; of someone who tries to avoid or prolong the final moments of a relationship, journey, or chapter in life

* * *

THE next morning, I woke up to a warm, firm body pressed up against my frontside.

I stretched my neck and saw Eli quietly snoring into my chest, with the cutest pout on his lips. As if he was sensing my desire to get out of bed, he subconsciously tightened his grip and cuddled into me.

Looking between us, I could see the upper half of his delicious, chiseled abs. I desperately wanted to trace the lines and lick them, but he was asleep, and that would be weird.

Well, Eli would probably love it.

I settled for running my fingers through his unruly morning hair.

He let out a faint snore and curled further into my body.

I loved how he showed his softer side with me. As an athlete and a teenage male, he thought he needed to act all masculine, and he always insisted on being the big spoon. But every time he slept over, the roles reversed in the middle of the night. Knowing he trusted me enough to let his guard down around me warmed my heart.

"Don't stop," he rasped with that deep morning voice I was starting to love.

"Hey," I whispered. "How long have you been up?"

"Just a few minutes. That felt good." He leaned his head into my hands. "Keep going, please."

"Okay, Princess," I cooed, digging my fingers into his scalp. "What shampoo do you use? Your hair is so soft. It smells good."

"I dunno, but it doesn't smell as good as your peachy one," he yawned. "Whatever my mom buys me."

"I guess I need to talk to your mom," I mused.

As I lightly pulled on his hair and massaged his head, he let out soft moans, turning my insides into a puddle of mush.

"Char!" my mom called from downstairs. "When do you wanna head to the mall?"

"Does she know I'm here?" Eli whispered, eyes growing wide.

"No." I shoved his head under the covers.

"Hmm, I like the view," he said as he blew a puff of air onto my inner thigh.

"Eli, stop," I hissed, reaching under the covers to whack his head.

The rhythmic clanking of my mom's slippers got closer. I closed my eyes and rested my head on my pillow, pretending to sleep right before the door creaked open.

"Wake up, sleepyhead. It's ten a.m."

Hearing her approaching the bed, I opened my eyes and feigned a stretch and yawn. "Morning."

"Morning. Hello to you too, Eli."

I felt the telltale heat creep onto my cheeks as I wished to disappear.

Eli's sheepish face poked out from under the covers. "Hi, Michelle. Thanks for letting me stay over."

"I didn't know you were here until I saw your car, but you're welcome." She picked up his khakis from last night, "I'm assuming these are yours?"

"Yeah, thanks," he said, accidentally kicking me as he moved to get out of bed.

My mom flung them toward us. "Stay there. I don't want to see any of that... Char, when you're dressed, come down for breakfast."

I buried my head in my pillow as soon as the door shut behind her.

Eli's weight settled on top of me. "Hey, what's wrong? Did I do something?"

"No," I moaned into the pillow, "but in case you missed it, my mom just walked in on us."

"We weren't doing anything naughty."

I normally would have laughed at his word choice, but I was too mortified to feel anything else. "She isn't dumb. I'm wearing your shirt, and you're wearing nothing. Plus, our clothes are on the floor. She'll put it together."

"I can take my shirt back, if that'll make it all better." He tugged on the bottom of my—his—shirt.

"No."

"Hmm. I guess I could stay shirtless so you could drool over my abs? Maybe pantless so you could suck—"

I blindly smacked his bicep. "Elliot Ash, focus."

"Right, Charlotte Elizabeth. Sorry... What were you saying again? Something about me being naked?"

Rolling over, I snatched the pillow out from under me and whacked his back with it. "You heard me."

He lowered the rest of his weight, flattening me like a pancake. "No, I didn't," he murmured, his fingers starting to tickle my arms. "I was distracted by the hot girl in my bed."

"It's my bed. We're at my house."

"I know. It's mine too."

"No. My house, and my bed."

"What's mine is yours, so what's yours is mine. Your bed equals my bed. Your house equals my house."

His fingertips crept up my upper arm, making their way to my weak spot—my armpits. I burst into a fit of giggles as he tickled me and peppered kisses all over my face.

"Eli, stop," I gasped. "Can't... breathe."

He distributed his weight on his forearms, doing a plank over me. "Sorry, babe."

"Charlotte! Let's get moving!" my mom yelled from downstairs. "Say goodbye to Eli, unless he's coming with us."

"Do you wanna come?" I looked at him with puppy dog eyes.

"To the mall?"

I nodded. "We're going dress shopping for graduation."

He made a face. "I'm good, thanks."

"You don't want to try on dresses with me?"

"As fun as that sounds," he said dryly as he grabbed his glasses from my bedside table, "I promised the guys that I'd meet them at the gym... twenty minutes ago. I really should go."

"I'll miss you," I said, giving him one last hug.

"I'll miss you more." He stood up to tug his pants on. "Can I have my shirt back?"

I tossed it at him. "Do you need a ride home?"

He shook his head. "Nah, I'll jog home and pretend I woke up early to go on a run."

"In khakis?"

He glanced at his outfit and shrugged. "I haven't done laundry in a while. My parents won't notice."

* * *

After an uncomfortable breakfast and invasive questions about Eli and me, my mom and I headed to the mall. I still needed to find a white dress to wear under my cap and gown for the ceremony. Aubrey, Delaney, Aliyah, Lorelei, and I had spent countless hours searching local boutiques, but I couldn't find anything I loved.

Graduation was next weekend—I was running out of time.

We stopped in the first store we came across and went straight to the dresses department. I had no luck. All of the white dresses were either wedding dresses or completely inappropriate for a school event. Even though I'd be wearing the dress under my graduation gown, I didn't want to risk getting in trouble for an indecent neckline.

We searched a few more stores, finding similar results. Just as I was about to give up and order something online, I saw the perfect dress on a rack.

It was a white, lace skater dress with spaghetti straps. The triangle bodice and flowy skirt were both covered in elegant floral lace patterns. Thankfully, the v-neck was tasteful and didn't reveal much—the dress was more than perfect.

"This is it," I said, holding it up for my mom to see.

"Thank God," she sighed, looking up from her phone. "Is it in your size?"

I let out a matching sigh of relief as I checked the tag. "Yep."

"How much is it?"

"Fifty-six."

"Good. Let's check out and get outta here."

I followed her to the cash wrap, my stomach rumbling with the reminder that I didn't finish my breakfast. "Can we get lunch before we go home? I'm hungry."

"Alright."

Thirty minutes later, we were seated in an adorable French cafe.

"We still haven't talked about how you want to celebrate."

"We don't need to do anything huge. Maybe just dinner?"

"Would you be okay if we did something with Eli's family? His mom and I talked about it at book club last night."

"That's fine with me." More than fine, actually.

She put her fork down, expression growing serious. "Okay, there's one other thing."

"Um, okay..." Something was telling me I wouldn't like whatever she had to say.

"Your father and Candie want to come."

"Nope," I gave a hasty shake of my head, taking a bite of my sandwich. "Not happening."

"Good. That's what I told him."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Why are you talking to him? I thought that was over after you planned my trip to LA with him."

"He called," she shrugged. "What was I supposed to do? Block his number?"

"Yes. That's exactly what you do when you have a crazy ex. Block Mark and change your number. You did it on Facebook, so how hard is it to get rid of his contact? He already knows our address, which is worse enough."

She chuckled, "I thought you made peace with him in California. What happened to forgiving him?"

"I accepted what he did, but I don't forgive him or his actions. There's a difference," I snorted. "A huge one. I still hate his fat guts."

"Okay. Whatever you say," my mom said, a small smile gracing her lips as she chewed.

"Don't give me that. I'll make up with father when you make up with yours. I'm not the one who has an eighteen-year-long feud going on with my father."

"Fair enough, but your grudge might turn into an eighteen-year-long one if you don't do anything."

"It was hard enough sleeping in a hotel room with him for a week. I'm gonna need more time before I can be around him without feeling sick."

"I guess he's where you got this stubbornness from."

I dropped my half-eaten sandwich on my plate, mouth gaping. "You did not just compare me to him."

"Being stubborn isn't a bad thing."

"It is when you imply that I'm just like him," I gagged, dramatically gulping water to cleanse the sudden bitter taste in my mouth.

"Okay. I'm sorry," she chuckled. "So, does this mean that you're declining the invitation to his wedding next winter?"

"You even have to ask? I have no desire to watch him marry his sugar baby."

She sent me a pointed look, silently reprimanding me for the dig at Candie.

"What? It's true. She called him 'Daddy' on Christmas. I stalked her social media accounts and saw her posts about her rich, older fiance."

She shook her head. "Alright. Just don't go around telling people that. I don't need the whole town to know about my poor choice in men."

"Don't worry, I try not to even think of him."

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading chapter 47! 💚
The next chapter is the last official one 😭

QOTC: What is your favorite chapter title from this book and why?

My answer: I really like the word for the next chapter. That's kinda cheating, so I'll say "quatervois" (ch 42) because it's such a fun word to say and has a cool meaning.