Page 128 of Holding On

"He'll be eating the chicken. He won't even notice."

"I'll just leave the food at the door and meet him tomorrow."

"You're worrying too much, but if you're that concerned about the chicken smell, then take a shower when you get here. You've got clothes here you can change into."

It's true. Last week, Ethan gave me a drawer. That's right. A drawer. The ultimate sign you're in a serious relationship. And when he gave it to me, I didn't even freak out. It just seemed logical that I should keep some clothes there because I'm at his house so often and am always coming back from work, stinking like cleaning products or chicken. But the drawer was a big deal, even if I tell myself it's not.

"I'll give you a really big tip," he says.

"Are we talking money or something else?"

He chuckles. "Show up and you'll find out. See you soon." And then he hangs up.

Damn him. I told myself I was going to go an entire night without seeing him and now here I am, going over there again. And the thing is, I want to. I'd miss him if I didn't.

---