Page 13 of Rumor Has It

Though, when I texted Garrett about it, things got weird.

If you’re looking for me this week, I’ll be at Ellie’s.

GARRETT

DUDE! That’s quite the step.

Step?

GARRETT

In your relationship.

What relationship?

GARRETT

Um, the one you’re in with Ellie? It was pretty obvious after last night.

We aren’t in a relationship

GARRETT

Are you sure? You’re staying at her house ALL WEEK.

After that, I gave up and put my phone away. I needed to pack a bag and water my plants before going back over to Ellie’s anyway. But now that I’m on my way back over, my thoughts float back to what he said.It was pretty obvious after last night.How can something that isn’t true be obvious? I mean, maybe I was holding her a little tighter than normal because she was upset. And she was burrowed into my chest pretty closely. Maybe caring for my friend just gave a certain appearance to everyone.

The entire time we were dancing, all I could think about was how that dorky fuck started talking to literally the thinnest woman in the bar. Her pants were so tight you could see her goddamn religion, but that didn’t stop him. I tried my best to hide that from Ellie’s view. I wanted to smack him openhandedly, which somehow feels more emasculating than being punched.

Before you come at me, I believe every man and woman has a right to be attracted to whatever type of person they want. Tall, thin, short, curvy, whatever. But you don’t tell a woman right in the middle of a crowded bar, when drinks have been flowing, that she’s too fat for you. You just don’t. They’re coworkers. He could’ve lied and said he doesn’t date people he works with. He could’ve just said he didn’t see her that way. It could’ve been anything else but the one thing she’s insecure about. But no. He had to ruin her entire night.

I digress. Every time I think about the chain of events, I want to drop-kick a nun. Then I remember when I was dancing with Ellie, she smelled like vanilla and coffee because she uses this homemade sugar coffee scrub on her skin, and she adds vanilla to it. It smells so good, it literally makes me want to bite her.

I pull into her driveway a few minutes later, grab my bag from the passenger seat, and walk in. If I’m staying here all week, I’m sure as hell not knocking, so hopefully she’s clothed.

“I’m back here. Come look,” she says.

She always knows when it’s me, even when she isn’t looking. I asked her how once, and she said she can hear it in my walk. I don’t know what that means, but it sounds like some woman voodoo magic shit.

Inside her room and in the corner near her closet, she’s set up a small table, the little cage on top, and the heating lamp above. As I walk over and look in, she puts her hands together. This is what she does when something is so cute she wants to reach out and touch it but is stopping herself.

“It’s kind of cute, I guess.” I cocking my head to the side. Of course, I’m just messing with her. The thing is actually fucking adorable, but I’m never going to tell her that. She’d use it to convince me to help her sneakily keep it forever, and that’s a terrible idea.

“She’s the most adorable creature on the face of the planet,” she says.

“Hey, I thought I was the most adorable creature on the face of the planet?” I smirk as she rolls her eyes at me. Ellie ushers me toward the door.

“What do you want for dinner, doofus?” she asks from behind me.

“I’m easy,” I say, turning and leaning against the doorframe.

Ellie pauses, staring up at me. Her expression turns strange for a moment, and then, in a blink, it’s gone again. She passes by me, headed toward the kitchen.

“How about you slice up some veggies for me,” she says, “and I’ll handle the meat.”

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to make a dirty joke, but I hold it in. Instead, I nod and pull out the cutting board and a knife.

She hands me broccoli, an onion, some mushrooms, and a red pepper, instructing me on how to slice them before she turns her attention to her phone and wireless speaker. The familiar sound of her “Cooking Playlist” fills the air as she starts rice in the cooker. I’m guessing we’re having some type of stir fry, which is fine by me. I’ve never had a complaint about anything she’s cooked me.

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