Page 107 of New Growth
I exhaled slowly, biting back the reaction his voice stirred in me. God, he knew what he was doing.
Still, I refused to let him win.
“You’re a smart man,” I murmured, glancing at him from the side of my lashes. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
He let out a quiet laugh, amused I hadn’t fallen for the bait.
“Goodnight, Peanut.”
I looked at him one last time, soaking in the smile on his lips, the fondness in his beautiful eyes I tried so hard not to acknowledge.
“Night.”
Then I stepped inside and closed the door behind me before I could change my mind.
The house was still.
The soft green glow of the stove clock read 11:39 p.m.
It was early enough that Esther was probably still out—maybe with her football player, maybe with the girls from the salon. Either way, she wasn’t home. A pity, really. The one night I chose to come back, and the house still felt empty. Maybe I could wait up for her. Hopefully, she’d let me crash in her bed.
I poured myself a glass of wine, letting the silence settle around me, but it didn’t bring the comfort I expected. The space felt unfamiliar, like I was standing in someone else’s home. I turned on the TV, or tried to. I couldn’t even remember where we kept the damn remote. After a minute of aimless searching, I gave up and slumped onto the couch with a sigh, cradling my wine glass like a lifeline.
And, of course, my mind wandered to Elliot.
Tonight was the first time in months that anything between us felt awkward. It didn’t suit us. We were easy. So easy that when Hope shot her shot, I should’ve told him. I should’ve teased him about it until heblushed or rolled his eyes. But I didn’t. I held it in because I was scared he might be interested.
Because I relied on him.
I relied on him to make coffee in the morning, call me rides when I was running late for work, cover dinners without flinching, and hold me at night so I could sleep. And that terrified me.
Not just the dependency—but the way Ifeltabout it. The way I needed him. The thought of losing that terrified me, but the idea that I was terrified over losing him terrified me the most.
We were too comfortable.Iwas too comfortable.
But God, it felt so good. He made me feel safe. So safe.
I exhaled hard, tipping my head back against the cushions as I eyed my phone on the coffee table.
What was wrong with me?
Why was this so hard?
Just call him.Tell him what you feel. Let him tell you you’re being irrational, and then we could go back to pretending none of this happened.
I hesitated—then finally reached forward and tapped his name. The phone rang once.
Just once.
“Fifteen minutes before changing your mind?” His voice was sleepy. “A new record.”
I smiled, biting my lip as I sank further into the couch. “What makes you think I changed my mind?”
“Why else would you be calling?”
I stared at my wine, tracing the rim of the glass with my fingertip. “I don’t even know anymore.”
“Ellie…” he said gently.
