Ever since that night at her parent’s house, all that’s been on my mind is how she needs more people on her side. She has opened herself up to me and been vulnerable, and it physically pains me to see her upset. It almost broke my heart to see how Ellie was treated by her parents, and by what she has told me about some people in her past, she needs more people who have her best interests in mind.
Fake relationship or not, I consider her my friend, and I truly hope that she thinks the same of me at this point. We’ve gone through a lot together because of our weird situation, but I can’t imagine not having Ellie in my life.
There’s only so much I can do myself, so when I asked Ellie if I could share her number with Natalie, she seemed hesitant but excited. They really hit it off at the company weekend, and it was obvious that they meshed well. The one thing that I love about Natalie is that she is very particular about who she likes and doesn’t like, but once you are her friend, she sticks with you. She is the embodiment ride or die.
Within the hour, Ellie texts me to let me know that they have plans on Sunday to go shopping.
Moseying out of my office, I walk over to Natalie’s desk and prop myself on the corner. She is aggressively typing up an email, and I know enough not to interrupt until she is ready to talk to me. If you are the cause of Natalie losing her train of thought, you will have to deal with the consequences for three to five business days. Only once have I made that mistake, and it will never happen again.
She hits send and gives me a look that tells me I may proceed. Offering her a smile, I lean in closer to her. “Can you please try not to embarrass me in front of Ellie?”
“You know that I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” She gives me a sly grin, and it doesn’t make me feel any better. “Maybe you should stop doing things that make you feel embarrassed.”
Her computer dings, and I slink back to my office now that her attention is taken up by another email.
I’ve always valued Natalie’s work ethic. When she was first added to the team, I admired that she worked just as hard as I did.
Well, I don’t know if I can say that now.
Since trying to juggle all of this fake relationship stuff, my productivity is nowhere near where it used to be. Don’t get me wrong, I am still getting the job done, but I might not be utilizing my time as well as I was before.
Honestly, it’s been a while since I’ve cared about someone like this. I’ve had a few relationships here and there, but as of the last few years, there hasn’t been anyone who made mewant to take that leap. No one that’s been worth the time or energy—until now.
Leaning back in my office chair, a sigh comes out of me. With my eyes closed, I think of all of the ways this thing with Ellie has turned upside down. This was only supposed to be a transactional relationship. The main purpose was supposed to be deterring creeps from hitting on Ellie, and then she would help me not look like a liar to my new boss. But, we’ve come too far, and I can’t lie anymore.
I have feelings for Ellie Brooks—real, scary feelings.
No matter how hard I try to push it down and say that it’s just physical, I am past the point of no return. I like Ellie. I like spending time with her and being there to support her. I like being the person she can lean on without judgment. I like holding her and making her come and hearing her moan my name.
Fuck, I think I might even be falling for her. Those three little words dangle in front of me, but I push them away for now.
She is taking up most of the space in my head, and I am more than happy with that.
Sometimes, I think she feels the same way, but other times, I am not so sure. So for now, keeping these thoughts to myself seems like the safe bet. I’d rather have her as a friend than lose her by trying to force her into a relationship that she is not ready for.
I settle at the mostly unused desk and stare at my computer.
My home office is located in a tiny room that was supposed to be a guest room, but I’ve made it into my own work space. Taking the time to make the space practical and productive felt smart when I first moved in, but I never actually found myself doing much work at home. But, over the past few days, I’ve managed to utilize the space more, working on a special project.
When I open up my laptop, a list of book editor internships fill the screen, and I scour through them, trying to find something local and part time. I am fully aware it is not my place, but ever since Ellie admitted that she wanted to be an editor, I have been trying to do some research here and there. Not quite sure how much information to gather for her, I collect what I can, not knowing if she will even use it. Despite all of that, the idea of her not having the resources doesn’t sit well with me.
It hurts me to think about her not pursuing something just because of the money—and her mom’s terrible opinions.
We live close enough to D.C. that there are quite a few options in the city that might work for Ellie, so I add them into the folder. I’ve been keeping in mind that she still has another year of grad school to get through, but there are some good choices for part time, paid internships that she could start now and switch to full time when she graduates. There is also an interesting option where this company trains you over the course of a few weeks to show you the ropes and gives you the information first before you commit to the job.
Feeling good about the research I’ve done, I turn off my monitor and make my way into my room. I’m fairly confident that Ellie will be happy having some options.
As I walk into my bedroom, there are hints of Ellie everywhere. The sweatshirt she borrowed on top of my dresser. The pair of earrings she left on my side table. The glass of water with a small mark from her pink lipstick. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of washing my sheets, so now when I lay in bed, there is no longer the lingering scent of orange and honeysuckle to comfort me.
My mind wanders back to the other night, and all it does is make me miss her. I pull on the sweatshirt that smells faintly of Ellie, but I need more.
Taking a risk, I pull out my phone.
Patrick:Hey. What are you up to?
Ellie:I have been working on this paper for the last 4 hours, and I think my brain is melting.
Patrick:That doesn’t sound very fun…
