Page 31 of Arden and the Girl Downstairs

I didn’t want to make it harder for them, so I fell into the routine Arden had asked Ralph to prepare for me. I didn’t fight it because I was exhausted, and I had a feeling there would be plenty of fights with Arden when he returned. Instead, I “prepared” myself for battle, so to speak.

I also didn’t spend Arden’s money, even though a shiny black card with my name on it arrived two days after he left. Without the need to pay rent and utilities, I had a little breathing room, and I wanted to keep my independence. I did cut back my shifts at Grumpy’s, though. I now only work four shifts a week instead of my usual seven or eight.

Having my nights free has been a little strange. I’ve been making an effort to spend more time with everyone in the main house. They all miss Arden—it’s been nice getting to know them more, though.

One rule of Arden’s admission was that he wasn’t allowed to have contact with anyone for the first two weeks and then after that, it could only be immediate family, like his dad and Julia. Given today is two weeks, I’m sure he’ll be reaching out to his sister so he can speak to everyone.

I pull the hot tray of cookies out of the oven and place them on the bench in my apartment. Steve looks over at me from the couch, his nose sniffing around in an adorable way. I’ve been baking more and more cookies. Ralph may have let it drop one day about how much he loved them, and demands were made for me to immediately whip up a batch in Arden’s kitchen so everyone could try them out. Martha even joined the group, and that worried me because everyone raved about her cooking, especially her blueberry muffins.

I didn’t need to worry, though. She took one bite and whisked me away to demand I tell her my secret. There is no secret. Last I’d heard, she was trying to recreate the cookies with little success. So, everyone is still requesting that I keep the jar in the kitchen well stocked.

I’m all too happy to oblige. Studying and baking are about as much as I can manage at the moment, and both are keeping me distracted.

My phone vibrates on the kitchen bench, alerting me to a new message. It’s probably Chad messaging this week’s roster. Isaac, one of Mady’s men, has been helping him with them—from what I’ve heard, Isaac loves routine and rosters. Ever since Chad moved in with Mady and her "not a harem," after some encouragement from me, we’ve all been trying to find a work-life balance. Well, everyone except Logan. He’s working through some stuff, so has pretty much thrown himself into working at the bar. As irritating as he is sometimes, he is one of the most genuine people I’ve met. He’s just misunderstood.

I pick up my phone, waking up the screen, and am surprised to see it’s a message from Arden.

Arden: How’s my girl?

Really? He’s going straight in with the “my girl” stuff? We’ve never even been on a date.

Ella: You know I’m not actually your girl, right?

I play into his message. I should be nice, but I’m already pretending to the world. I shouldn’t have to pretend in my own apartment.

Arden: Technically you are. I have the piece of paper that says so.

Ella: On paper. Yes. But otherwise. No. You don’t even know me.

Arden: That’s where you are wrong.

Ella: What do you mean, wrong?

Arden: For me to know and you to find out when I get home in a few weeks.

Arden’s thrown me off again. I warm up my heat pack and crawl into bed with my phone. I switch tactics. Chase told me that when Arden goes all secretive, there’s no way you’re getting the information from him. Remembering that has me smiling. Am I seeing a glimpse of the old Arden?

Ella: How are you feeling?

His reply is almost instant.

Arden: Better. Still working through some stuff. But getting there. Did you know, apparently your mother leaving when you are a baby can actually fuck you up?

Arden’s response shocks me. I was not expecting the honesty of his answer.

Ella: I can imagine, but I’m happy to hear you’re doing okay. Everyone here has been worried about you.

Arden: Have you been worried about me?

How do I respond to that? I have, but I don’t want him to get the wrong idea. I decide to have a little fun, since I don’t know this side of Arden yet.

Ella: Of course, you are my husband after all.

Right when I think he isn’t going to respond, my phone vibrates in my hand with an incoming call. Arden’s name flashes on the screen, and I answer before the third ring.

“Yellow.” I use my favourite quirky greeting.

“Blue?” he says back.

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