Ellie.
Watching her talk—watching her flirt—with Carson right in the middle of the restaurant drove me out of my mind with jealousy. That she would act that way right in front of me after what we did the night before?
Fucking unbelievable. Didn’t know Ellie had it in her. That she actually had it in her to drive me out of my mind with lust.
I’d felt like such a dick when I woke up, realizing I was late to get her from the restaurant. Seeing all those texts and missed calls had sent me into overdrive, speeding like a maniac to get to her as fast as I could.
Only to find she’d called Carson when I didn’t respond. She’d lost all faith in me, just like that, though I guess I can’t blame her. I disappointed her.
Yet again.
I’d followed Carson to her apartment, deranged. Angry. Ready to beat some skinny freshman ass. Ellie confronting me threw me for a loop. What threw me even further?
How badly I wanted to fuck her. Seeing her angry, yelling at me, the little argument we had outside had turned me on and made me hard.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I went home and jerked off to thoughts of Ellie just as I described her: naked and sprawled out on the hood of my car, my mouth on her pussy, driving her wild with my tongue, just before I plunged my dick into her tight, wet heat. I came in an instant, as if I had no control over myself.
I fell asleep with her on my mind. Woke up with her there too. Before I went to class, I called the mechanic, who informed me the part came in and they were working on her car this morning. It would be available to pick up later this afternoon.
“I have to be somewhere by four and so does Ellie,” I told the guy, not one hundred percent sure when Ellie starts work but close enough. “Can we pick it up before then?”
“I will make sure it’s ready by three,” the mechanic promised me.
I ended the call and contemplated how to approach her. Calling her is out of the question. Pretty sure she has class. She’s more of an early bird than I am. I decide to text her instead.
Texting is safe. It’s our normal mode of communication. Always has been.
Me: Your car will be ready today by three.
She doesn’t immediately respond. I go about my business, getting dressed. Gathering up my shit. Making myself a bowl of cereal in the kitchen and eating slowly, staring at my phone as I scroll through Instagram.
Still no response from Ellie.
Shit.
I dump the leftover milk out into the sink, the spoon falling with an extra loud clatter and I turn on the water, rinsing everything before I snap the faucet off with a low growl.
“What the hell is up your ass this morning?”
I turn to see Eli standing there glowering at me. He’s the one who’s been in a bad mood lately, missing his girl like the pussy-whipped fucker he is.
“Didn’t sleep well,” I lie. I slept fine. I don’t want to admit my feelings for Ellie are leaving me on edge.
As in, I don’t quite understand what I’m currently feeling, but I know I don’t like it.
“Grumpy fucker,” he mutters, shaking his head as he shuffles deeper into the kitchen.
“You’re the one who’s been grumpy for a solid month,” I remind him, leaning against the counter and watching as he grabs a mug out of the cabinet, goes to the Keurig he brought with him when we moved in together, and loads it with a coffee pod.
“Yeah, because I miss Ava. Knowing I’m gonna get laid this weekend is making me feel a lot better,” he admits truthfully. He sends me a look. “Is that your problem? Maybe you just need to get laid.”
That is definitely my problem, but the only person I want to have sex with at the moment is Ellie. No one else will do.
No one.
“Probably,” I bite out, glaring at him, even though I’m not mad at him. I’m just mad in general. “I should get to class.”