I can’t even fashion a smart comeback. Instead, I mutter, “Thanks for the tips.” I head to the purple ball, which is next to Ellie. She smells like cherry blossoms. That sucks too.
She smells too wonderful. Too much like my future.
But she’s not mine. Hell, she never was. And tonight she’s simply my…fake date?
Fuck. I don’t even know what she is anymore, except…she’s moving on.
That I know for sure. She’s made that abundantly clear in the last twenty-four hours. She is an independent woman, and she needs no man.
Just as I was gearing up to maybe ask if she wanted to make a go of things after training camp, to date for real when I return…Boom.
She drops the mic on her whole boss-lady-moving-on soliloquy.
More power to her and blah, blah, blah. But there’s no room for romance in her work-all-day/be-single-all-night plans.
That song she blasted was an exclamation point punctuating her speech about business and new life stages and moving the fuck on.
“Ooh! Look at that one!” Tilly hoots. I blink, then reconnect with the game in time to see her green ball roll through an arch as she makes her shot.
“You go, Aunt Tilly!” Ellie shouts, then she nudges me, giving me a bright smile. “Good one, right?”
“Yeah, great,” I mutter.
She tilts her head, looks at me, clearly worried. “Are you okay?” she whispers. She sounds just like a girlfriend when her boyfriend’s being a moody jerk at a party.
Well, the last partistrue.
“I’m fine,” I mumble, but I can’t shake my attitude.
“You don’t seem like yourself,” she says, trying again in a low voice.
“I’m fine,” I repeat.
She tugs gently on my forearm, guiding me away from the game, toward the side of the yard. I follow her because of course I follow her. I’d fucking follow her anywhere. And that’s the goddamn problem.
I’d chase her, I’d beg her, I’d go wherever she went.
I’m crazy for her, but she’s already gone, belting outI don’t need anyonesongs and celebrating her romance-free life.
And I can’t, I just fucking can’t, ruin shit for her by telling her I fell for her inonlyfour nights.
I can’t stand to hear her say,Oh Gabe, that’s nice and all, but I came to Los Angeles to be free.
So here at the edge of the lawn, I just stare past her.
She tries to catch my eye, angling her chin just so, to get me to look at her. “Are you sure? Because you don’t seem okay.”
Gritting my teeth, I shovel a hand through my hair. I feel like a bomb’s ticking in my chest.
No, Ellie, I’m not okay. I’m not okay at all because I want to break our deal in spectacular fashion. I want to take you into my arms and smother you in kisses and keep you for all the nights.
But you want to just…move on.
And if I stay outside at the party with her, I’ll blurt out all these painful feelings that are clawing at me.
Feelings that she doesn’t have the time or space for.
I thrust my mallet at her, and she takes it automatically. “Sorry, sweetheart. My agent called earlier, and I’ve got some stuff on my mind about the football season. It’s nothing. But I’m going to take a walk and clear my head.”