Page 5 of Sheets & Giggles
“You know, there’s a book called that.” I release a chuckle as I pull my shirt over my head and quickly straighten myself up.
“So, I hear,” she deadpans, stepping back and letting her eyes take in the appropriately dressed me.
“Better?” I ask.
She smirks. “I think I prefer you shirtless, but let’s just pretend I didn’t say that, while also pretending I didn’t burst in here yelling at you for banging against my walls.” She slaps her hand against her fist to mime the action before she realizes what she’s doing and goes bright red again. “Oh, my god. Pretend I didn’t do that either. I had a margarita at lunch today so I can’t be held accountable for my actions.”
I can’t help but laugh at this gorgeous breath of fresh air that breezed into my apartment as more of a tornado, but you get the sentiment.
“Was there any food with that margarita?” I ask as we exit the bathroom and make our way to the living area.
“I ate the lime wedge. It counts,” she says over her shoulder, waving it off. “Although it smells like you’re having lasagna.”
“How about you stay for dinner? Leona always cooks far too much for one.”
“Is this because I complimented your abs?”
I move into the kitchen and slide the lasagne tray out of the oven. “You complimented my abs?”
“They are quite lovely.”
She sits on the stool across the counter from me as I pull two plates from the shelf. “I’ll be sure to display them more often in that case. Pants buttoned up, of course.”
“I didn’t hate that part either, you have that nice V the ladies go crazy for.”
A chuckle bounces my shoulders as I slice the lasagna in half and divide it between two plates. “Salad?”
“Please.”
“Wine? Or did that margarita do a number on you?”
“Wine would be great. Red if you have it.”
“I do.” I place a tub of salad in between the two plates, along with two stemless glasses that I fill a third of the way. “To the super fixing those pipes,” I say, lifting my glass in toast.
She smiles at me as she taps her glass against mine. “Cheers.”
We eat in silence for a while with me standing in the kitchen while she sits on the stool. It’s quiet and companionable, and after the long week I’ve had, needed. It’s hard being in a new city without anyone to turn to.
Suddenly Ellie laughs and shakes her head.
“What’s so funny?”
“This is.” She gestures between us. “How did we get from me bursting in here to yell at you to sitting here eating dinner together?”
“You complimented my abs, if I recall.” I smirk, and she laughs before we continue eating.
“I really am sorry about the yelling. It’s just that I’ve been trying to work, and the banging is making me crazy. Then I got told today that the project I wanted to hand in isn’t good enough, so now I’m back to the drawing board.”
“What do you do for a living?”
“Oh.” She frowns and then adjusts herself in her seat. “I write, um…articles for, erm, women who are interested in things that women like.”
“That sounds oddly vague and specific all at once.”
“It’s complicated. Get to know me well enough, and I’ll explain.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to get to know you,” I say, not missing the blush that blooms on her cheeks as she spears a piece of radish with her fork and lifts it to her lips.
