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CHAPTER 49 

Elias

I keep having this dream lately. One where instead of waking up alone, I wake up next to Lacey. 

She's tangled up in my sheets and tangled up in me. Her skin's warm and soft under my fingers, hair's spilling across my pillows, and her smile's bright enough to light up the room. 

I blink and suddenly she's above me. Surrounding me. The heat of her body burning through every inch of mine. I don't know how long I spend staring at her awestruck, but the time stretches out for miles. 

She looks down at me, eyes intensely focused on mine while she lets the sheets wrapped around her fall to the wayside. And I see all of her. All the beautiful details that I downplay so I don't get ahead of myself whenever we're together.

In real life, I hold myself back. I set boundaries. But in this space outside of reality, I lean up and kiss Lacey like we don't have limits. Like we're lightyears ahead of the movie-night make outs and couch cuddle sessions we've limited ourselves to since we got back together. 

The rush from the brush of her lips completely throws me. I've had this dream enough times to know what it's like to be lost in the illusion of it. And the illusion of her. But this feels almost real.

Too real to be—

I force my eyes open, but the answer to whether or not I'm still dreaming doesn't get any clearer. Lacey's hovering inches away from my face, her lips pulled into a soft pink smile. I didn't think it was possible for her to get any more stunning than she already is, but this morning she's outta this world.

Her hair's pulled up and styled like the Spanish girls in my mom's paintings—curled and all kinds of gorgeous. And then there's this dress. It's sunset red, painted with a million tiny yellow flowers and compliments all of her curves in all the right places. 

The Lacey I know likes easy-going softball practice clothes to anything tight and subtly sexy. In the month we've been together, she's always preferred to keep things comfortable.

But this dress—is an actual miracle.

Or another fantasy.

Or a complete and total hallucination.

Whatever it is, I don't wanna wake up from it.

Lacey leans in and plants another soft kiss on my lips which leaves me stupid delirious. She tastes like strawberry Starburst and that little bit of Cinnamint from her favorite toothpaste. 

I sit up totally shirtless and pull Lacey into the kind of kiss that I wouldn't have the balls to try to get away with if she were actually here. I slip my hands around her waist and run my fingers along the outline of her dress only to have her stop me within seconds.

"Well, buenos días to you too, el cumpleañero (birthday boy). But I thought I was supposed to be the one surprising you on your birthday not the other way around."

I blink. Once. Twice. Three-hundred times waiting for Lacey to disappear. For the dream to end. And for reality to slap me in the face like it always does when I wake up without her. But Lacey doesn't dissolve into the early morning haze like she always does. She stays right where she is—extremely close and incredibly beautiful while my sanity takes a nose dive off the deep end. 

I stare at her for I don't know how long, trying to calculate and recalculate the exact amount of time that she's been here watching me fantasize about her in my bed while she was actually in my bed.

I don't understand how she's still smiling. If she knew that I was dreaming about her topless and on top of me, she wouldn't be smiling anymore. Lacey's a good girl. I didn't need a month of dating her to figure that out, but now that I'm around her 24/7 I get to see how fantastic she is first hand. 

The girl's got the restraint of saint. She can do things like kiss me and holds hands and cuddle without having her mind dive bomb into the gutter like mine does. I'd like to say that being with a girl who takes things in stride has helped me relax in the physical department, but, honestly, things have only gotten worse. 

I'm into everything she does. 

Literally everything. 

Her laugh—turn on. Smile—turn on. Her brain and her morals—huge turn on, which is totally unbiblical on my end. The thing is, I thought dating Lacey would make me less creepy, but, obviously, I thought wrong. Instead of dreaming about cotton candy, and rainbows, and Skittles like Lacey probably does, all I dream about is her.

Granted, some of them are nice, easy going, and totally PG. Every now and again, I dream about taking her across California and spending sunrises and sunsets with her along the coast.

But others, especially dreams like the one I just had, would probably make her dump me if she knew about them.

Actually, now that I think about it, she might dump me right now 'cause birthday boy or not, the fact that I just tried to live out my fantasies with her first thing in the morning could be a deal breaker. Time for damage control.

I back away from her a little too fast and grab the nearest pillow to cover the situation in my boxers which she absolutely cannot see. Lacey eyes me confused and maybe slightly hurt which I immediately regret. The smile on her lips fades into concern while I scramble to find a way to explain why I'm acting like a complete spaz over her birthday surprise.

"Lacey—what are you—what are you d-doing here?"

I don't even know why those words come out of my mouth when I know the answer. I don't know why my brain still turns to mush around this girl when it should've at least learned how to basically function in her presence. But I'm blowing things. Completely. The mile deep furrow on Lacey's forehead says it all.

"I wanted to wish you happy birthday first thing. I'm sorry, maybe I should've called first—"

"No—I'm so happy you're here. Honest. I just didn't t-think you'd actually be in my room."

"Should I have waited downstairs? Your mom's cooking for the both of us, and if I'd known, I would've stayed in the kitchen to help her—"

Fix this, you nut sack, before you ruin the morning.

"No, no, no. I want you here! Seriously, I do. I just didn't believe that—I thought I was dreaming about you being here. You look so beautiful I thought—"

Lacey raises an eyebrow and pouts at me.

"What are you trying to say? That I only look nice in your dreams and not in real life?"

"Absolutely not! You're gorgeous all the time! It's just that dress is new. And you look outta this world so when I kissed you like that earlier—I thought it wasn't really happening, and I got a little carried away. And I shouldn't have gotten c-c-carried away like that, and I-I-I'm s-s---"

Lacey laughs to herself and then slides closer to me.

"—sorry."

She caresses the side of my face which does wonderful and terrible things to my body all at once.

"You're forgiven. And that kiss wasn't the worst thing in the world—just a little handsy."

"I know—and I'm sorry. You know I respect you, right? And that this is the best start of a birthday that I've ever had?"

Lacey leans in and pulls me into her arms which I should fight but don't. Only Lacey could wear a dress like that and hug her shirtless, helpless boyfriend, while he suffers in silence.

"Don't get too excited yet—"

Way too late.

"—I've got a lot more planned for you today. So, get up and get dressed so we can head downstairs and start with the surprises!"

Lacey gives me a quick peck on the cheek, hops off my bed, and then grabs me by the hands to pull me up to follow her. All it takes is her enthusiasm to send my common sense flying out the window. 

I get so caught up in the fact that my girlfriend's here on my birthday that I drop the pillow I'm holding, slide out of the sheets, and stumble after her. 

Never mind that I'm in my boxers. 

Never mind that there's enough sunlight spilling into my windows to light up the universe. 

Never mind that the Little King is standing at full attention in broad daylight. 

I just go with the moment.

And then Lacey turns around.

And looks at me.

All of me.

And the world ends. 

Her mouth drops open at the sight of things which is basically the sum of all my nightmares. I should turn around or at least try to cover myself so the suffocating silence filling the room comes to a stop, but I can't move. And neither can she.

Lacey stares up at the ceiling lightning fast right as her cheeks start to burn bright red. Out of pure panic, I open my mouth and rattle off a series of excuses and half-apologies without thinking any of them through.

"This is—I—uh—I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I just need a second. I didn't mean for you to see—"

Lacey shakes her head back and forth like brushing off this situation is as simple as a gesture.

"I-It's fine. Really. R-remember when Mr. Kissinger talked about this in science? He said i-it's a normal part of puberty. And you're going through puberty, and so am I so—we'll just figure this out together, right?"

"What do you mean—figure this out together?"

Lacey throws her hands over her mouth and gasps.

"Oh no! I didn't mean figure that out together. I meant we can figure out how to deal with um—actually, I don't really know what I was saying. Should I go? 'Cause I feel like this is something you have to—"

"No! Please stay. I'll go. Shower, I mean. I just need to—handle this. On my own. Not that I wouldn't invite you along in the future—"

"I'm sorry, what?"

What the hell, Eli?

"Forget it. I don't know what I'm saying. I'm just gonna go shower, and I'll meet you downstairs in a few, okay?"

I whip around, dart for the giant blue and white beach towel hanging off the edge of my bed, book it past Lacey, and toward my bedroom door. I don't even manage to get my hand on the handle before guilt comes crashing down on my shoulders.

 I can't just run out on Lacey like this. She's done so much to make this morning special, and now I'm leaving her to go handle myself in the shower like a thirteen year old instead of properly showing her downstairs. 

I stop dead in my tracks despite the fact that the tentpole situation in my boxers hasn't eased up in the slightest and turn back toward Lacey. I walk back over to her and take her by the hand despite myself.

"Elias, what are you doing? Weren't you going to shower?"

"I am—but I don't want you to feel like I'm ditching you so I wanted to walk you out properly."

"You don't have to do that. I'm okay, really. If you need to go, then go. I'll be here when you get out."

Lacey's being typical Lacey—trying to come off as comfortable as possible when the exact opposite is true. I gotta fix this.

"My mom wouldn't want me to leave you alone. It's bad manners. Seriously, she'll bust out the kitchen spoon if she hears that I left you stranded. So at least let me take you to the stairs."

Lacey nods and then follows me even though she's uneasy. I take one unsteady step after the other, palms slicked with sweat, heart-rate beating through my chest until I finally reach the door. I step out into the hallway, towel in one hand, girlfriend in the other, and then the whole second floor disappears into white light.

"Surprise!"

There are moments where you wish that an asteroid would come hurdling through space, blast through the atmosphere, and blow you off the face of the planet. This is one of those moments. 

The flash of a camera flickers, fades, and slowly reveals my entire family—Mom, Dad, Tanner, and, as fate would have it, Caleigh standing outside my room with balloons, confetti, and a Polaroid camera in hand to capture the memory. 

My mom's obsessed with birthday memories. She's also obsessed with birthday Polaroids which have had a sacred place on her living room wall for as long as I can remember. Usually, she takes her hallmark birthday memory picture when I'm eating cake or blowing out the candles. 

But today, of all days, she decides to photograph me standing half-naked in the hallway, holding my girlfriend's hand, while harboring the boner from hell.

I stand there totally mortified and watch the joy on everyone's faces dissolve into confusion and eventually horror.

"¡Ay Dios mío! Qué está pasando aqui, Eli? (Oh my goodness! What is going on here?)

I drop Lacey's hand, cover myself, and look anywhere else but at my mom.

"Mama—e-esto no es lo que parece." (Mom, this isn't what it looks like)

I hear Tanner laughing under his breath, but I'm too scared of my mom's to go off on him for it. I glance up at her for no longer than a half a second. But a half a second is all it takes for her to dart over to me, grab my the ear, and twist the hell out of it.

"Then explain yourself! Ahora! This beautiful girl comes all this way, asks me to help her do her hair and make-up just so she can surprise you for your birthday, and this is what you do?! I expect my own son to know how to behave himself like a gentleman in MY house. But it looks like I was wrong, non?"

Her thumb and pointer finger tighten up like a pair of crab pincers, and I let out the kind of noise that's something between a whimper and a yell.

"You weren't wrong! I was just—going to shower!"

"With your novia (girlfriend)?! ¿Estás loco (Are you crazy)?! What kind of birthday do you think this is?"

My mom's other hand comes crashing down on the back of my head which I expect, but the expectation doesn't lessen the pain. I hear the slow shuffle of Lacey's footsteps next to me and hope to God that she can perform some kind of miracle to save me from my mother.

"Mrs. King, I think there's been a misunderstanding. Elias was asleep, and I surprised him with a kiss—"

"Just a kiss?"

"Si. And then this happened. But we learned in science class that this is a normal part of puberty so please don't be mad at him. Elias was a total gentleman with me. I promise."

Thanks to Lacey's incredible and undeserved intervention, my mom releases her pincers from around my ear and lets me stand up straight. She backs away from me and smooths out the creases in her cooking apron, but the firing squad death glare in her eyes is still directed straight at me.

"Well, I would very much like to start this day again once my son is dressed and decent and in control. So, Lacey, carina, please come help me in the kitchen. Tanner, Caleigh go check on the surprise for Elias outside although I'm of the mind to return it at this point. And Malcolm—talk to your son about how to control his—puberty. Por favor."

My dad clears his throat loudly and stumbles over a way to answer her, but she's already ushering everyone else downstairs before he can back out. I can hardly bring myself to look at him, but when I finally do, he's nowhere near as disappointed as I thought. 

He loosens his tie and glances down at his watch which means he's probably leaving for work soon. Typical.

"Dad, look, if you have to go. Just go. I'll tell Mom we talked about the birds and bees or whatever."

I expect him to nod and then go back to his business as usual, but instead he fixes his gaze on me for longer than is comfortable.

"So, you're sixteen already, huh?" He says.

"Yeah. What a start, right?"

"I remember when you turned six. You were so excited the night before your birthday you could hardly sleep. You only knocked out after your mother and I let you sleep in our bed. You've always been excited about your birthdays—just never like this."

My dad smiles. He actually smiles and half-laughs at a memory of me for the first time in a long time. I don't know what's wrong with him this morning. But even standing there in his suit and tie, he feels less like a lawyer and more like a father. Maybe this is a one day exception, but I'll take it. A good moment with him is a gift in itself.

"Yeah, uh—anyway, I'm—gonna go shower. But, I'll see you later, okay? You'll be here later, right? For the cake and everything—like we always do?"

My dad walks over and almost puts a hand on my shoulder, but I flinch at the last second. Some reactions never go away. Neither do the memories that caused them.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Sure, but if you can't, I get it. Anyway, I'll see you when I see you, I guess."

The two of us head in opposite directions but the sound of my dad calling out my name when I reach the bathroom door stops me.

"Elias?"

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Catch."

He reaches into his pocket and tosses me something small and shiny across the hallway. I open my palm and stare down at a brand new keychain with a picture of Tanner, Mom, and Dad sitting around me at the kitchen table at my sixth birthday. 

There's cake all over my face and hands, but all of us are smiling. Even Dad. His hand's on my shoulder, but I wasn't scared of it then. I'm holding onto his hand with my tiny, messy fingers and he's beaming down at me like he's on top of the world. Like he still had something to be proud of back then. I wanna give him something to be proud of now.

Even if it's something small.

Even if it's just passing my classes this year or showing him that I can be a better boyfriend and even better son than he ever expected me to be.

I'd give anything to get that smile back.

But for now, at least, I can carry it around in my pocket.

I close my hand around his gift and open my mouth to thank him, but my voice breaks into a hundred jagged pieces.

"Dad!"

He turns around right as he reaches the stairs and looks back at me over his glasses.

"You know I love you, right? Even though you're an asshole sometimes, I uh—"

He nods and slips into a half-smile.

"I love you too, kid. And if I'm not home to say it later tonight, Happy Birthday, Elias."

***

Thank you guys so much for reading/listening! I know there's a small and mighty group of you guys who have stuck around through the weekly updates or updates every other week and I really appreciate all of you. I know it's tough to wait for chapters and most Wattpadders prefer to get updates daily or multiple times a week. But Kristen and I really try our best to bring the best quality work that we can to you. So it means a lot that a handful of you have stuck with this book. There's only a handful of chapters left and then Kristen and I will be jumping into starting the final book (the sequel to FHKH where Alex and Elias are taking on married life and all of it's craziness)! So thank you guys for being here!

#RealTalkQuestionoftheWeek

1. Have you ever done or said anything extremely embarrassing in front of your significant other?

2.  What do you think of Malcolm's behavior toward Elias? Should Elias trust in his rare change of heart?