Page 135 of Giddy Up, Daddy

“You done crying?” he asks.

I nod, and sniffle. I’m no longer sobbing, but my eyes are still burning, and my nose is runny from all the tears I cried for no reason.

“You want to talk about it?”

I pause. Do I? I shrug my shoulders. “I’ll talk if you want to, but I don’t think I need to or anything.” I think I’m still processing.

“Alright.” I feel Bo nod, though I can’t see it, because he’s behind me. “I think I want to.”

“Okay, Daddy.” I tilt my head back to look up at him and offer a smile.

He catches my eyes and smiles back. “I know it sounds crazy baby, but I can’t stop thinking about Elle. I just know she was made for us, and I don’t think I’m ready to give up on that yet.”

The statement doesn’t surprise me. I think through all my tears and muddled thoughts during my shower spanking therapy session, I’d reached the same conclusion. Her walking out hadn’t felt right. And letting her go without at least knowing we tried feels even worse.

“Okay, Daddy,” I agree. “We will do whatever we can to make her come back to us.”

Chapter Sixteen

Elle

I don’t leave the house for nearly a week after the perfect yet disastrous date with Bo and Nate. I don’t answer any of Sadie’s calls or texts, and I skip my job interview, because what’s the point? I wasn’t cut out to be a working girl.

Will I lose my apartment and stipend because of it? It’s possible. I don’t really know. But I don’t think it matters. Everything considered, I still like it here and still don’t want to go back to New York, but I also don’t think I can stay.

I remember what Bo said about most of the beefcakes being together, and Blue River turning into a community for throuples, at least in part. That pretty much cinches that my future is not here, because if I could be with two men, I wouldn’t be in bed crying with a week's worth of junk food wrappers around me.

There’s nothing on the few cable channels I get that I haven’t already seen three thousand times by this point, so I shut off the television and throw myself back against the pillows. I grab the one from beside me, throw it over my face and scream into it.

I’ve barely finished when the doorbell rings. Sitting up, I freeze, listening for the sound. Was it even my doorbell? Asidefrom whoever assigns apartments, and Sadie, Bo and Nate are the only ones who would know where I live. Could it be them? I check the clock. It’s the middle of the afternoon. Sadie would still be at work. Shit.

Quickly, I gather up all the wrappers and run to throw them in the bathroom garbage. In the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of myself and shrink back. I look like hell. When was the last time I even showered. Or washed my face? Fuck.

The doorbell rings again, and I let out a frazzled scream in response. I grab my hairbrush, and run it through my snarled locks, then wet a washcloth and scrub my face before patting it dry. I’m not sure it's an improvement at all, but I quickly brush my teeth, pinch my cheeks to bring color back into them, and douse myself with expensive perfume—far more than I usually wear. Hopefully it will hide the stink.

Is it really them? Could it be? I don’t see any other options and the reality both thrills and terrifies me. Ripping off the old t-shirt I’ve been living in, I throw on a cashmere sweater and a pair of jeans, but add slippers instead of shoes to hopefully help give the idea that I’ve just been chilling in my apartment in my fancy casual. When I’m assured I’ve done all I can with the current time crunch, I huff out a breath.

“Coming!” I call out. My stomach is in knots as I tiptoe toward my front door. I’m about to look out the peephole when the pounding starts.

“Elle, dammit, I know you’re in there! Open the door, the neighbors are starting to stare!”

Sadie. It’s Sadie. Ignoring the heavy disappointment weighing me down, I smile and pull the door open.

“Geesh girly, impatient much?”

She ignores me, pushing past me and bulldozing her way into my apartment. “Well maybe if you’d bothered answering your phone, I wouldn’t have had to consider calling out a searchparty,” she huffs, slamming the door and plopping onto my oversized thrift- store couch.

“My phone’s dead.” It’s not a lie. It died last night and I didn't bother to plug it in. “But as you can see, I’m fine. So no search party needed. And you can go.” I sink down on the couch beside her and try to appear normal. But suddenly I can smell myself and I really need a shower.

“Bullshit.” Sadie scoffs, then leans over and lifts a string of my hair. “No offense sweetie, but I’ve never seen you looking this bad. Your hair is greeeeasy. You’re not wearing makeup, not even mascara, which is unheard of…”

Dammit. She’s right. I should have at least put on mascara and lip gloss. Ugh. How had I let myself get this bad? And over a man?

No, not a man, I correct silently. Two men. As if somehow that makes it better.

Sadie continues. “I’m pretty sure your teeth probably have stuff growing on them. I know you pulled those clothes on like five minutes ago while I was laying on your doorbell, and Elle, I love you dearly, but you kind of stink.”

How. Rude. “What? Ugh! That’s so mean!”

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