Page 28 of Not a Perfect Save

I close the door behind him and lean back against it.Now what?

Chapter Sixteen

CONNOR

I wentover to Ella’s place the next day. And the day after. And the day after that. It’s been a week now.

I want her. That’s clear. And she wants me, too. But it’s more than mere attraction. Those moments in my rush to her place, when I couldn’t reach her, only cemented that fact for me, and denial is pointless—a complete waste of time. I don’t know what this is, only that it’s more than she’s making it out to be. But for some reason, she isn’t admitting it to herself, keeping me at arm’s length.

I’m tempted to push, take things further, but there is still wariness in Ella’s eyes. We haven’t kissed since that first night, but I know she thinks about it. As do I.

Patience. I’m known for it. I can go at her pace. Even though I’ve pictured her naked so many times at this point that my hand is chapped from beating off in the shower.

Tonight, I bound up her stairs two at a time with the plastic take-out bag swaying with my steps. Ella’s apartment door swings open before I can knock. But the scowl on her face makes me pause. Crazy eyes flash and I make myself approach slowly. “I come in peace.” I hold out the bag of Mexican food from Rosalita’s.

She rolls her eyes and waves me in, but I’m gratified when a hint of a smile flirts on her lips.

“Hannah came over earlier. She rescheduled her cake tasting for today. I missed the one wedding appointment I was actually looking forward to!” Ella glares at the mannequin as if she wants to stick a knife through its back. “You’d think that she’d bring me some samples, but nooo. Instead, she has me alteringthat.”

Thatis a pink, poofy dress with enough material to clothe a village and have enough left over for a circus tent.

Ella continues muttering, “You’d think she’d care that I was in a robbery, but no, that’s not Hannah. The rest of the time she was over, all she did was pump me for information about you.” Now her scowl is directed at me.

“Me?” My eyes widen.

“Yep. The way she tells it, Hank’s your number one fan.” She snorts derisively. Definitely not impressed by my football status.

“Would you like me to get him tickets to a game?” I offer. If it will make her life easier…

“Oh no. Let’s not encourage that.” She shudders.

I’m strangely hurt that she won’t accept even that, but I’m not going to interfere.

She looks back at the sewing machine and lets out a resigned sigh. “She’s so in love with Hank, she’ll do anything he says. Sometimes it’s embarrassing.” Ella makes a face. “I never want to be like that.” She puts on a high falsetto, “Yes, dear. No, dear. Fuck me in the butt? Come right over, dear.”

I laugh, so, so hard that my abs cramp.

A grin quirks on her lips for the first time today, and it’s like my world cracks open.

But her smile is fleeting, and she sighs again. “And, I have to deal with all my other paying clients on top of everything.”

“Then why didn’t you say no to Hannah?”

“I can’t say no. She’s my sister. And her wedding events are starting soon—welcome dinner all the way through the pre-honeymoon brunch.” Ella lapses into silence, brooding at the dress.

Reaching over, I stroke the line that’s formed between her brows. Her lips quirk as she turns to me, her expression softening as she relaxes.

I encourage her to eat. Ella deems the food ‘acceptable’ even though I can tell she likes it. Fine, I’ll go along with her little games. Win her over. I like a challenge, though she’s more to me than that. How much more? I don’t know, but I’ll put in the time to figure it out.

“Only acceptable? I’m not the one who left us without leftovers,” I tease.

I get a harrumph I know she doesn’t mean and hide my grin.

Post-dinner, we are in our usual positions in front of the TV, feet propped on the coffee table. I marvel at how much farther mine reaches in comparison to hers.

Ella is in short-shorts and a blue tank top that dips low between her breasts. Her legs are smooth. She still has her splint on even though she gave up her crutch a few days ago. It is propped by the sewing machine, more clothes slung over the handgrip.

I watch her out of the corner of my eye as she flips through the channels. Her expression is pensive.

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