Chapter 6

Lila stood in Eli's tiny bathroom, the glow of her phone screen the only light. The new message stared back at her, cold and clinical. He didn't tell you the whole truth. Ask about the girl he almost killed in Seattle. Her stomach twisted. The man sleeping peacefully in the next room—the one who had just made love to her with such devastating tenderness—suddenly felt like he carried shadows she couldn't yet see.

She deleted the text, splashed cold water on her face, and slipped back under the covers. Eli stirred, pulling her against his chest instinctively. His warmth, the steady thump of his heart, the scent of their mingled bodies… it all felt so right. She wanted to believe in him. She did believe in him. But doubt was an insidious thing.

Morning came too soon. Eli woke her with slow kisses down her spine, his morning erection pressing against her ass. Despite everything, her body responded, arching into him.

"Morning," he murmured, voice gravelly with sleep and renewed hunger. One large hand cupped her breast, thumb circling her nipple until it peaked. "Need you again."

Lila turned in his arms, kissing him deeply to silence her racing thoughts. He took his time, exploring her body with hands and mouth as if reaffirming every inch belonged to him. When he finally slid into her from behind, spooned close and intimate, the pace was lazy and deep. Each thrust dragged against that perfect spot inside her while his fingers played between her legs.

"Come with me," he whispered hotly against her neck, picking up speed. They shattered together, quiet and intense, his release flooding her once more.

Afterward, as they caught their breath, Eli kissed her shoulder. "I meant what I said last night. I love you, Lila. We'll figure everything out."

She wanted to ask about Seattle right then. The words sat on her tongue like lead. Instead, she smiled and kissed him. "I love you too."

They made breakfast together—eggs and toast in his small kitchen—stealing touches and easy conversation. But the text weighed on her. When Eli left for a morning errand to check on his dad, Lila sat at his table with her laptop and did what she promised herself she wouldn't.

She searched: "Elias Rivera Seattle incident."

Results were sparse but disturbing. A three-year-old article about a bar fight outside a construction workers' hangout. A woman named Maria Delgado had been harassed. Eli had intervened. The man harassing her ended up in the hospital with a broken jaw and fractured ribs. Charges against Eli were dropped after witnesses confirmed self-defense, but the article mentioned "excessive force" concerns and that the victim had a history of violence himself.

Lila closed the laptop, heart pounding. It matched what Eli had told her, but the phrasing—"almost killed"—gnawed at her. Context mattered. She knew that. Still, the anonymous texter knew details. Someone was watching.

Jenna met her for lunch at a small café near the press. Lila picked at her salad, recounting the latest text and her research.

"Sounds like he protected someone," Jenna said. "Classic Eli. But the secrecy part sucks. You have to talk to him."

"I will. Tonight." Lila sighed. "Last night was… intense. In the best way. He said he loves me."

Jenna's eyes widened. "And you said it back?"

"Yeah." Lila smiled despite herself, warmth flooding her at the memory of his body moving with hers, the raw emotion in his voice. "It felt real."

"It probably is. Just don't let ghosts ruin it before it gets stronger."

The rest of the afternoon dragged. Lila threw herself into edits, trying to lose herself in someone else's love story while hers felt suddenly fragile.

Eli texted her mid-shift: Come by the bar tonight. Slow night. I miss your face. And other parts.

She smiled and replied: I'll be there.

The Anchor had a mellow crowd when she arrived. Live acoustic music played softly. Eli's face lit up the second she walked in. He poured her usual pinot and leaned across the bar for a quick, heated kiss that drew a few knowing looks.

"You look good enough to eat," he murmured. "Again."

Heat flushed through her. Under the bar, his hand found her knee and slid slowly up her thigh, hidden from view. His fingers teased the edge of her panties, stroking lightly until she was damp and shifting restlessly on the stool.

"Behave," she whispered, though she parted her legs slightly.

"Where's the fun in that?" His touch withdrew just as Mace approached, but the promise in Eli's eyes kept her throbbing all evening.

Later, after closing, they barely made it upstairs. The door shut and Eli had her against the wall, skirt shoved up, panties pulled aside. He dropped to his knees again, devouring her with his mouth until her first orgasm hit hard and fast, her fingers tangled in his hair.

Then he stood, freed himself from his jeans, and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he thrust up into her in one smooth motion. The angle was perfect—deep, possessive. He fucked her against the wall with powerful strokes, mouth on her neck, hands gripping her ass.

"Mine," he growled between thrusts. "This pussy is mine."

Lila came again, clenching around him. Eli followed with a ragged groan, spilling deep inside her.

They made it to the bed eventually, where he took her once more—slower this time, face to face, eyes locked. It felt like making love rather than just sex. Tender. Claiming. Overwhelming.

Afterward, as they lay sweaty and spent, Lila finally spoke.

"Eli… I looked up Seattle."

He tensed beside her. "You did?"

"Another text came last night. Said you almost killed someone. I found the article. It sounds like you were protecting a woman, but… why didn't you tell me the full story?"

Eli sat up, running a hand through his hair. The vulnerability on his face made her heart ache. "Because it's ugly. The guy was drunk, violent. He had a knife. I lost control a little—kept hitting him even after he went down. The woman was terrified. She thanked me, but the whole thing followed me. Got me blacklisted from a couple jobs. I was ashamed. Didn't want you seeing that side of me."

Lila reached for him, cupping his face. "I see all of you. The protector and the man who feels too much. I just need honesty."

He kissed her palm. "No more secrets. I promise."

They fell asleep entwined, but Lila lay awake long after Eli's breathing evened out. The texts kept coming. Someone wanted them apart. And she was starting to wonder if her mother knew more than she was saying.

The next morning brought new trouble. Sofia showed up at Eli's door unannounced while Lila was still there, wearing one of Eli's t-shirts.

Sofia's eyes widened, then a grin split her face. "Oh my God. Finally! I knew it!"

But the joy was short-lived. She had come with news: Marco had mentioned an old debt collector sniffing around again. Someone from the past who Eli thought was gone.

Eli's face hardened. "I'll handle it."

Lila felt the ground shifting beneath them. Their love was beautiful, passionate, consuming.

But the past was rising like the tide in Port Haven, threatening to pull them under.