Heaven Off East 82nd by Julianne Baclayanto

Author:Julianne Baclayanto [Baclayanto, Julianne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2025-02-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

“Morning sunshine,” I hear a voice say as my head rolls over to the cool side of the pillow, my eyes cracking open.

I’m disoriented for a second before they’re able to focus, but I soon see Eli standing in front of me, throwing on a hoodie. He’s sporting bedhead and that ever-present cocky smile of his: a lethal combination if I’ve ever seen one.

“Morning,” I’m able to croak back.

I push a piece of hair out of my face and sit up in his bed, stretching my arms out. All the while, he’s just standing there, staring at me with his eyebrows raised.

“What?”

“I’m just waiting to see if you’re going to run for the hills,” he mocks.

“And why would I do that?”

“Maybe because the last time you woke up next to me, you pushed me out of your room?”

“I apologized for that,” I point out, huffing. “And I’ve matured since then.”

“Since twenty-four hours ago?”

“Precisely.”

I flash him my most innocent smile before pulling off the covers and standing up, tying my hair into a loose bun with the elastic on my wrist.

“So you’re not weirded out that we slept together again?”

“Why would I be? I have sleepovers with my friends all the time.”

Okay, I’m reaching a little here, but the truth is that I’m not weirded out. Not at all. Now that I know him better, know he understands the kind of loneliness that’s plagued me my entire life, I feel like we get each other. Get the need to be seen by someone, to surround yourself with other people just to make yourself feel like you’re not alone.

So I know last night was just about being there for each other, nothing more. Our clothes stayed on, hands kept to ourselves (alright, maybe we held hands, but that’s so innocent even preschoolers do it), and there were absolutely no feelings involved whatsoever. It wasn’t intimate, it was a mutual kindness.

“A sleepover?” he repeats, the side of his mouth hitching up. “Is that what we had?”

“Seeing as a sleepover is when two or more friends spend the night together—in a totally non-sexual way—yes, that’s exactly what happened.”

“So we’re friends now?”

“Eli,” I sneer, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Once you bitch about your childhood with someone, you’re a hundred percent friends.”

Sure, there’s a physical attraction there (at least on my part), but that doesn’t mean anything. I can do this. I can be friends with Eli: a kind, caring, unreasonably handsome guy who holds my hand and lets me vent to him, without catching feelings. I know I can, because the alternative is not having him around at all—and that’s the last thing I want.

“Alright, friend. Want me to go start a pot of coffee downstairs?”

“I would love that, friend.”

I got this. I don’t want him that way. I won’t want him that way, it would ruin everything.

I am in control.

***

“And this is going to help me how, exactly?” I ask Eli as we’re clearing our plates after dinner, not totally convinced of his proposition.

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