The hidden curves of her body fill my head, and it makes me think back to some of the other times I’ve watched her at The Brew. She is one of those stealthily attractive people. You wouldn’t think much at first glance, especially with her hiding behind the machines and her apron and those baggy clothes, but if you pay close enough attention, it is obvious that she is naturally beautiful.
Drifting off to thoughts of Ellie, I close my eyes. My brain paints pictures of what she looks like underneath it all. Not just physically, but how she thinks. There’s a deep lingering desire to know more about her. Even though she’s been an integral part of my morning routine since I can remember, I really don’t know anything about her.
Chapter 4
Patrick
Whenmythoughtsstartto shift to dreams, I hear the soothing, flirtatious tone of Ellie’s voice.“I work tomorrow morning, but I really was hoping we could spend some time together.”
Practically shooting out of bed, I need a second to reacclimate to my surroundings. Just a moment ago, I was in The Brew. Visuals of her rosy cheeks and long eyelashes, almost an exact replica of this morning, flicker through my head.
Ellie is going to be working tomorrow.
Well, if she was telling the truth, she is.
After spending the whole night freaking out about the ‘what-ifs’, it might kill me if I put it off any longer. First thing tomorrow, I’m going to go to The Brew to see if Ellie is there. While this might be a time sensitive issue if Greg is a weekend customer, I can only hope that if she runs into him, she will keep up the lie for her own sake.
As I’m falling asleep, every possible scenario plays out in my head. The worst she can say is no, right?
When I take a second to think about it a little harder, it’s apparent that ‘no’ is definitely not the worst thing she can say.Unfortunately for me, there are no other good options, so the best I can do is hope that everything will be okay.
Chapter 5
Ellie
TheElliewhotookthis shift did not have our best interests in mind.
Apparently working five days this week, attending my Tuesday/Thursday lectures, and having dinner at my parent’s house last night was not enough torture. I shouldn’t be surprised. If screwing myself over by not giving myself enough time to relax was an Olympic sport, I’d have the fucking gold medal.
Literally, the whole point of only taking one class this summer was to give myself a break, but trying to avoid stress and agreeing to dinner with my parents feels like one big oxymoronic conundrum.
Whenever I go over there, I expect things to be different, but it always ends up the same. They invited me over since it had been a while, and every second felt like I was being crushed beneath my mother’s pressure.
She always wants to catch up and make sure that I am doing okay, but it never seems like she or my dad care about how I feel or what’s going on in my life. While they don't outwardly critique me, the questions they ask always make me feel like I’m not doing enough.
‘When are you going to work somewhere that fits with your degree?’ ‘Do you want us to go shopping? I can buy you some nicer clothes.’ ‘Have you signed up for a new gym membership? You would be happier if you lost a few pounds.’ ‘Why aren’t you seeing anyone? You were so happy when you were with your last boyfriend.’ ‘I just hate to see you so lonely. You only hang out with Nick, and he doesn’t want to date you.’ ‘Why don’t you take another class over the summer? I thought you said you wanted to finish soon.’
It just keeps going and going and going until I feel like I want to cry—and sometimes I do cry.
I understand that they are only looking out for what they think is best, but with every question and comment comes a criticism. After a while it feels like they are jabbing at my open wounds, and there’s only so much that I can take.
I love them so much—don’t get me wrong—but they don’t understand.
It’s partially my fault because I don’t open up to them anymore. They used to listen, but even then, they’ve never supported what I wanted to do. That’s why I don’t tell them why I haven’t tried to get an internship or why my ex and I actually broke up or why I’m trying to save money this summer. They can’t be trusted not to chastise me any more than they already do, so I stay quiet and do my best to fake a smile.
My body and mind are already trashed, but after Patrick dropped by, I’m even more of an anxious mess.
What could Patrick want to talk with me about? Is it about yesterday? Did he finally come to his senses about how ridiculous and unprofessional Iwas?
Ugh, I’m such an idiot!
At least I don’t have to wait too long. The Saturday morning shift just needed some extra coverage, so I’m only working four hours this morning. That being said, time is still moving at a snail’s pace.
I’ve always been an anxious person, and what I’ve learned is that time never moves how you want it to. When you need time to move slow, it moves so ridiculously fast, and when you need time to move fast, the minutes feel like hours. There’s also the added suspense of waiting a whole forty-five minutes so Patrick can reveal all the ways I screwed up yesterday.
More than anything, it was odd seeing him on a Saturday.
There have been countless times that I’ve picked up a weekend shift, but Patrick has never come in outside of his Monday through Friday coffee schedule. At least, I don’t remember him doing so.
