Page 34 of Not a Perfect Save

“The same thing.” My TV is tuned to some classic movie on Turner.

“Really?” Connor’s voice is disbelieving.

“Yep.”

“Hmm…” He doesn’t question me further. I lean back on my couch, watching a black and white movie to the background sound of sports commentators and guys being hit until I finally fall asleep. We never even got to the phone sex.

Chapter Twenty-One

CONNOR

My friends sayI’m generally a creature of habit, and I make no apologies for it. And my ‘fling’—I scoff at the word, is proceeding right on schedule.

It’s no torrid affair. Ella and I have an established routine. Dinner, TV (Thank fuck it’s not all reality shit), and bed. Somewhere between Hangry Ella and Sleepy Ella, I get horny Ella. We’ll make out on the couch like horny teenagers, and that will inevitably lead to sex of the very adult kind.

And then she kicks me out. Every single time. I’m generally not opposed to being an occasional booty call, but this is getting ridiculous.

The guys would say I have the ideal situation—sex on the regular, without any of the strings, all in the care and keeping of Ella Dixon.

The problem is Iwantstrings.

Multiple times now I’ve hinted I’d be happy to spend the night. But I’m not sure if she’s willfully blind or not. Still, I’m determined to move our relationship forward. I’d just been waiting for a sign. And that night on the phone, watching TV together three thousand miles apart? That was it.

On the way home from JFK airport, I grab my phone.

Connor: Hey U. Plans for dinner?

Ella: Ur back?

Connor: Yep. Flight just landed. Dinner?

Ella: Thai?

I grin. My plan is falling into place.

Connor: Sure. 7? U have my address, right?

Ella: ???

Connor: ?

Ella: Ur not coming over?

Ella: New episode of Real Housewives…

And now for the clincher.

Connor: New Thai cookbook

Now I wait.

And wait.

And—

Ella: k.

I smirk. Touchdown.

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