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“You don’t smell disgusting.” I don’t miss the way her eyes flick to my lips from where she now stands. “I’m supposed to meet Ryan and Noah for dinner, anyway.” I reach over to pet Simon before standing up to walk her out.
Ellis grabs her bag by the door. “How would you know?” she challenges. “Your nostrils are filled with the scent of hair dye. You’re probably still high off the fumes. That’s why you started kissing strangers and stuff.”
“You’re not a stranger, Ellie.” I’m standing next to her by the door, not quite ready for her to leave and leaning against the door frame. “Not anymore, at least.” I lean against the wall, folding my arms across my chest. “And I promise you I was stone-cold sober when I kissed that beautiful mouth of yours.”
Ellis stares at me, her bag in her hands, and her expression unreadable until I catch the soft smirk pull at her lips.
“Go on another adventure with me?”
Her eyes widen, and she seems surprised, but quickly recovers. “Okay,” the bag sways in her hand, her eyes looking toward the ground as her cheeks grow pink. Is she embarrassed that I called her mouth beautiful? Was that too much?
“When?” she asks.
“Tuesday. Your actual birthday. Take the day off, and we can hang out.”
Her eyes flick to mine, narrowing in suspicion. “I can’t just take the day off.”
“Yes, you can. People call off work on their birthday all the time.”
“What would we even do?”
I think back to her bucket list, now memorized and firmly tattooed inside my brain–just like the crescent moon at my back. “How about Broadway?”
Ellis chuckles. “We can’t go to New York, Finn.”
“No,” I confirm, “But I’ll figure something out. Who knows, mabe New York will work out. You own a multi-million dollar cricket bar company. You probably have a private jet.”
“I do not.” She says the words with a laugh.
I chew on my cheek, promising her the same thing I’m promising myself. “We could go to Wyoming. I’d like to watch you ride a bull.” I catch my mistake before she can even react. “Wholesomely. In a way I wouldn’t be ashamed to tell my mother about.”
She laughs then, and I want to bottle the sound. “Okay,” she whispers. Her eyes linger on my lips, and I think for a moment she might kiss me again, but something in the air shifts, and she steps back. “Thank you, Griffin.”
I clear my throat, shoving my hands in my pocket nervously and stepping away from the door. Maybe I fucked it up. I’m afraid I’ve fucked it up. Noah would tell me I’ve fucked it up. “Not Finn?” I ask.
Ellis’s soft smile has me relaxing a bit when she answers. “I think I’d like to go bull riding.” My worries ease. “And nobody calls you that.”
There’s a pause–a moment of silence stretching between us as I let her words sink in and hold her gaze, hoping she knows I like the new nickname. I like it a lot.
“You do,” I say, and I swear her breath catches in her throat. “I’ll see you on Tuesday?”
Ellis opens the door. “Absolutely.”
Sixteen
Ellis
Staring at the ceiling of the small cape cod house I bought with all my stable job money, I contemplate running to the store to buy more popsicles.
Those seem to be my go to pity party food.
Sometime in the middle of reminiscing over the last two days, I forgot to skip ahead to the part where Finn parted my lips with his own, and got stuck somewhere in the middle of the scene in his apartment where he reminded me of the truth that I’ve refused to admit.
I hate my damn job.
When I graduated from college with my marketing degree, I did my best to find a position quickly. The hope was that I would fall into something stable, and I did. It’s the same job I have now, and it’s exactly that–stable.
You aren’t passionate about marketing.
