Gabe:Ellie?
Ellie:Yeah?
Gabe:I can’t stop thinking about you.
19
MONSTER FEELINGS
Ellie
I’ve been texting Gabe as I walk to Maddox’s home, but we finish chatting right when I reach my friend’s place. I’m still giddy from the conversation. Probably glowing too.
When Maddox opens the door to his home a few seconds later, my friend sizes me up quickly. “Let me guess. You either just saw the bad boy, talked to him, or you were texting with him.”
Yup. Giddy and glowing.
“Stop being so good at reading me,” I say, then tuck my phone into my bag, and sweep into his house.
“I’m good at readingallpeople,” he says, then shuts the door behind us. “I have to be. It’s why I’m good at my job.”
From someone else, that comment might come across as conceited. But Maddox says it matter-of-factly. It’s just the truth of who he is and how he operates.
“Itisyour special skill. And Gabe and I were just texting as I walked here.”
“Called it.”
“I know,” I say, then I squeeze his arm. “Thanks for inviting me over.” I pat my messenger bag and the canvas bag alongside it. “I’ve got my laptop and my bathing suit.”
“What else does anyone ever need?” He smiles softly. “Thanks for coming.”
He lives nearby so we decided to work together today. He’ll be writing contracts, and I’ll be tweaking the script for episode one ofThe Dating Games. After we head through his sleek, minimalist home, we settle in poolside, where he serves me iced tea at a table under an umbrella. I take a drink and point at the glass approvingly. “You are an iced tea wizard,” I say.
“Thanks. But enough about me. What’s the deal with the bad boy? Gabe, you said?”
My stomach swoops as I think of the man who’s captured my nights and mornings. “Here’s the thing. Gabe kind of seems like a bad boy, but he’s really a great guy. Gabe Clements,” I add, sharing his full name since there’s no reason to be coy. Gabe and I have been going out in public, after all. “He takes my dog out for walks in the morning while I’m sleeping. He brings me the lattes I like. He listens when I talk. He asks questions about my friends and my job, and he pays attention, and he’s thoughtful,” I say, my heart fluttering ridiculously.
“So, that’s…good?” Maddox asks carefully. Then, he adds more decisively, “Because it sounds great to me.”
Huh.
That does all sound great. Surprisingly so. I suppose I didn’t expect this one-week deal to be so…goodoutside of the bedroom. I figured we’d indulge in sex, but I didn’t anticipate liking Gabe’s company so much. “Yeah, it is great,” I say, a little wary, because…hello. We made a deal. One that ends tomorrow night at Aunt Tilly’s party. “But it’s early days. That’s just how it goes. Honeymoon phase and all.” I wave a hand airily, trying to dismiss these pesky feelings.
Maddox chuckles. But says nothing.
I huff. “All right, friend. What are younotsaying?”
Another laugh, then he turns serious. “I’m saying that I think first impressions matter. I think the spark, the connection, the intensity—that’s meaningful. I think, too, that everything you said about him—walking your dog, listening, caring—that’s not honeymoon-level stuff. That’sreal.”
Oh, shit.
He’s right.
I sang Gabe’s praises like those things he did were nothing. They’renotnothing. They’re wonderful. But there’s no room to linger on how wonderful since Gabe and I have an end date.
“Maybe,” I say, then run my finger along the rim of the iced tea glass, trying to sort through the ping-pong game my feelings are playing.
“Ellie,” Maddox chides, seeing right through me. “This guy sounds like more than a maybe.”