Every Part of You: Resists Me Read Online Free PDF Page B

“Don’t talk like that.”
    She opened her eyes, pinning him with a sharp, birdlike gaze. “No woman likes to be lied to by a man, Elliott.”
    It was something she’d said to him in the past, but did she remember that? Or was she simply speaking from the heart, forgetting her past lectures the way she sometimes forgot who he was. Or where she was. Or what had happened to her in the first place that had led her on this twisting path.
    “But she’ll put up with it for a man she loves,” Elliott said, voice stone cold, without emotion.
    He’d only been repeating what she’d said to him more than once, but at the words, Molly sat upright. Pointing. Face in furious lines.
    “No. No woman should put up with a man who lies to her. Especially not when she loves him!”
    It was the first time she’d ever said that, and it moved him enough to lean across the bed to hug her. Tightly, but careful not to crunch her bones. She felt so much more fragile now.
    “He lied to me, over and over. To your mother. Probably to every other woman he ever was with,” Molly whispered harshly into his ear. She clutched at his back, fingers scrabbling loosely before she let him go. “Don’t you be that man, Elliott.”
    “I don’t want to be.” He clung to her for a moment longer, then let her go.
    “Then don’t.” She nodded firmly, as though that solved the matter. Maybe to her it did. “And if you did, go to her right now and apologize.”
    “I didn’t lie to her.” Elliott sat back. “I don’t even really know her.”
    “But you like her.” He said nothing at first, and Molly shook her finger at him again. “Is that what you lied to her about?”
    When he didn’t answer her, Molly gave him another of those vivid, piercing looks. “Or maybe it was yourself you lied to, honey. Yes?”
    Yes, Elliott thought, but didn’t say it out loud. He reached for her hand and held it between both of his. He sat with her until her eyes closed and she fell asleep.
    Then he sat there for a little while longer.
    *   *   *
    Only Aidan would call her so fucking early, and only he would keep calling until she answered. Simone had been dumb enough to leave her phone off the charging dock, which meant that the calls came through instead of being kept on silent. Muttering a string of curses, she pressed her pillow to her head, but even though it muffled the sound at least a little, there was no more sleep for her.
    “What?” She barked into the phone at last.
    “Simone?”
    Shit . Not Aidan. Elliott? She sat up in bed, the blankets twisted around her tight enough to keep her from being able to prop herself up all the way. She fought against them, finally untangling herself from the blankets enough to sit cross-legged, the phone tucked against her ear.
    “You’re an early riser,” she said.
    “Simone. It’s ten-thirty.”
    “On a Sunday,” she told him. “What kind of person gets up at ten-thirty on a freaking Sunday?”
    “I’ve been up since six-thirty,” Elliott said.
    “Ugh.” Simone fell back onto the pillows. “Why?”
    Another pause. “Because I always do.”
    “Well. You should get out of that habit. It’s disgusting.” She grinned, snuggling deeper into the covers.
    “I like getting up early. Gives me so much more time to do stuff.”
    “On a Sunday. Like what. Go to church?”
    “I don’t go to church. Do you?” He asked.
    Simone laughed. “Do I impress you as the sort of girl who goes to church?”
    “You impress me as the sort of girl who does whatever she wants.”
    “Well, anyway, I’m Jewish,” she told him. “Bet you didn’t guess that.”
    “No.”
    There came a soft huff, maybe laughter. Maybe a sigh. Simone listened carefully and couldn’t figure out which. It didn’t really matter.
    “Does that matter?” She asked him. Sometimes, it did.
    Another sound, this time sounding surprised. “No! Does it matter to you?”
    “Nope.”
    Silence, though it wasn’t awkward. At least not