My Ellie (The Perfectly Paired #1)

Chapter 11

Ellie

“You see that, right there.” My mother points to the TV, tapping the screen with the remote. “Your timing is off, at least half a second or so.” She grips her chin with her free hand, completely focused on the slow-motion replay of yesterday’s practice. She’s been in my room for the past four hours reviewing the same tape. It’s got to be at least nine PM, I don’t dare check my phone during these intense one-on-ones, but I know I’ve most definitely missed dinner. Hopefully Sanya saved me something and stashed it away in the fridge.

“That’s... adequate, I suppose.” She says quietly as Remi and I execute what I think might be a perfect piaffe. “These pirouettes are worrying me, Eleanor.” She’s still not looking at me, words laced with concern.

“There are seven weeks left of training camp, mother,” I try my best to keep my exasperation in check. How has it only been nine days since we arrived at the estate?

I feel like I haven’t slept in a month. A rigorous practice schedule coupled with medication-fueled insomnia is not a recipe for good rest. When I do sleep, I dream of kind eyes and the low, honeyed voice that accompanies them.

It’s like my mind has been hijacked by the cowboy I’ve only known for a handful of days, and I really don’t know how to feel about it.

On the one hand, I know I don’t have time to waste on something like this. Allowing it to take up valuable head space is already a mistake.

I have been working so hard for so many years, and everything is about to come to a head. All the blood sweat and tears will be worth it if I get that spot on the Olympic team, I just know it will.

But, on the other hand, I can’t deny that it’s thrilling to catch glimpses of him around the estate, even when he doesn’t see me. I’ve watched him instruct Edmund and George with the kind of patience that leaves me in awe. I find myself walking ever-so-slowly to my next sessions and meetings, checking around corners and down quiet stable walkways.

I’ve never had much of a social life outside of horses and riding-related activities, I think I’m only able to keep such a solid friendship with Sanya because we live together and have been friends since we were eight. Dressage takes up almost one hundred percent of my time, and outside of that there really isn’t much of me left to ration out into other parts of my life. I do think it would be nice, though, to be able to give whatever is left of me to a friendship that could make this summer a little less strenuous.

“Did you hear me, Eleanor?” I snap my attention to her with a jolt. I’m almost fearful that my distracting thoughts are written on my forehead, that I’ve said them aloud as she narrows her eyes at me.

“Sorry, I’m just a little tired—”

“Tired?” She barks, taking a step towards me. She holds the remote in the same way she holds the riding crop in the arena. “This is not the time for weak constitutions, Eleanor, this is the time to push yourself to your limit.” She thumps the remote into her palm. “If you’d been listening, you would have heard me say that there’s an Olympic scout coming to the estate in the next two weeks. No exact date is confirmed as of this minute, but I have it on good authority that they will show up unannounced to spectate random practice sessions.”

I’m too tired to hide the surprise on my face, hopefully it masks the wave of anxiety that courses through my entire body.

At last year’s training camp, there were no Olympic scout visits. This year is different, with the Olympics being held next year, Coach has had us preparing since the end of the winter season. Some teammates had expressed their disappointment last year when we were told that no scouts would be coming to the estate, but I was not one of them. My anxiety makes it hard for me to cope in extremely high-stakes situations, even with my medication I find it difficult to perform to the best of my abilities when I’m most expected to.

“Of course, this information stays in this room. I don’t think Coach Wareham even knows yet.” A smug smile tugs at the corner of her lips. She’s always delighted in using her contacts within the equine world to stay one step ahead of everybody.

I give her a nod just as an ungodly yawn escapes me. “Mother, do you think we could continue this analysis in the morning, it’s just I—”

“Do you think other Olympic prospects around the world are sleeping, Eleanor?” I bite the inside of my lip to stop myself from making a stupid comment about time differences. “Do you think your teammates are sleeping right now ? They’re thinking of all the ways they can come out on top when that scout shows up. Lottie and Pippa watch each of your practice sessions without so much as a blink. You need to wake up and see the bigger picture.”

She always knows how to push my buttons, get me in line, and comparing me to the twins irks me more than it should.

“You’re right,” I concede, “But can I go and grab a coffee or something? I’ll only be gone a moment.”

She huffs, throwing her hands in the air as she turns back to the TV. I take this as her granting me permission, making my way for the door and slipping into the hallway before she can change her mind.

I let myself breathe as the door closes behind me, pressing my back against the cool wood and closing my eyes as the tension leaves my body. The sound of footsteps and mumbled conversation tears me from my tranquility .

I turn my head, opening my heavy eyelids to find Rory and Colton turning the corner in my direction. Colton smiles as his eyes meet mine and I manage to peel myself from the door and walk a few feet in their direction before Rory says, “Here comes trouble.” He’s grinning at me, but it’s far less charming than the dimpled smile on Colton’s face.

“Shouldn’t you be warming Sanya’s bed?” I ask him, dragging a hand in front of my mouth as another yawn breaks free.

“A gentleman never tells,” He shakes his head, “But I’m no gentleman, I’ll be heading over to her room after I’m done at Colton’s.” He’s grinning like the Cheshire cat now. I turn to Colton with my brows raised.

He saved my arse in the storage room four nights ago, and since then we’ve somehow ended up sharing arenas every day. I usually don’t love to have an audience when I practice, something I had to get over quickly when I joined the team, but I have to admit that watching Lord Chamberlain’s sons trot around a set of barrels and shout “Let’s go boy!” to their ponies has become one of the highlights of my day.

Something I won’t admit, is how distracting it is when Colton catches my eye and lifts a hand to wave at me. I don’t think my mother has noticed, if she has, she hasn’t said anything about it—which is really not her style.

Tonight, the cowboy is wearing a casual outfit consisting of a t-shirt and jeans that might look scruffy on a less-muscled man but... Colton is most definitely not that man. It’s clear that he’s used to working hard, doing manual labor. I haven’t met many of those kinds of men in my life. But tonight, he’s not wearing his usual garb. He’s swapped his cowboy hat for a backwards baseball cap and he’s wearing trainers instead of the boots I had originally thought were glued to his feet.

The backwards cap does something to my insides that I might have to unpack in my next therapy session.

“He’s got a pair of boots that are too small for him,” Rory supplies, “Thinks they might fit me, proper cowboy boots.” That explains the grin and child-like excitement.

“Well, you boys have fun, I’ve got to grab a coffee and get back.” I wave my hand back in the general vicinity of my bedroom door.

“You’re still working?” Colton asks, grabbing his phone out of his pocket and checking the time. The muscles in his forearm tense and I have to fight to tear my eyes away from them. “It’s kinda late for a coffee, did you eat dinner?”

“Just reviewing some tape.” I shrug with a half-smile, avoiding his question as I go to step around them. “I’ll probably see you both around the yard tomorrow.”

“You and San need to come down to the pub tomorrow night.” Rory pipes up, “You didn’t come last week, it wasn’t the same without you girls. Last summer was so much fun. ”

Without the threat of the Olympic scout, last summer had been far more relaxed. Friday night drinks were the highlight of the week, and Sanya would always end up sleeping over in my room afterwards. My heart aches a little as I recall those fond memories.

“I’ve even managed to convince this kid.” Rory smacks the back of his hand against Colton’s chest with a thud. “Come on, El, I miss ya.” His features turn pained.

“You miss your designated driver.” I laugh.

“Oh, how you wound me.” Rory smiles, placing his hands over his heart.

“I’ll think about it.” I probably won’t. There’s too much riding on this summer for me to waste my time at the pub, no matter how much I want to go and unwind with my friends.

“That’s a yes!” Rory hisses, and I just know he’s pumping his fists.

Their conversation fades into the background as I reach the stairs, but after a moment, hurried footsteps follow me and I hear Colton say, “Just go right in, I’ll be back in a second I just have to grab... something.”

I bite the same spot on the inside of my mouth to stop a silly smile from spreading across my face.

“And what, exactly, did you forget?” I say without turning to him as he catches up to me on the stairs.

“I forgot to tell you that I gave chef my Meemaw’s banana bread recipe and she made it today, I think you should try a piece—with your coffee, I mean.”

We reach the bottom of the stairs, there are a few people milling about in the common room but there’s nobody in the expansive kitchen as we enter and flick on the lights.

“I’ve never been good at saying no to baked goods.” I set about making my coffee in the machine that looks like it should only be operated by expertly trained baristas.

I turn to find him slicing two rather sizable pieces of banana bread before placing them into deep bowls. He scoops both bowls up and places them into the microwave before heading towards the floor to ceiling fridge-freezer.

“It has to be served warm and with a healthy serving of vanilla bean ice cream.” He shrugs as he retrieves the ice cream, shooting me a smile, “I don’t make the rules. Meemaw would be very upset with me if she found out that you just ate a cold slice with no ice cream.”

“We definitely can’t have that.” I pass him on my way to grab the almond milk from the fridge, smiling when I see a Tupperware with a note attached to the top of it:

? ? ? ? ?

? El ?

Don’t say I never do anything for you, San x x x

? ? ? ? ?

Laughing to myself, I tuck the note away in my pocket and retrieve the Tupperware and almond milk.

“What’s in there?” Colton asks as I make my way back to my freshly brewed coffee.

“Just some food Sanya saved me at dinner, some kind of salad. She does that when my sessions run over or if I’m too busy to come down.”

He nods, dropping a hearty dollop of ice cream into both bowls. “You guys seem to be going really hard, you don’t have like, a nutritionist or something to make sure you’re looking after yourselves?”

“We do, sort of, I mean we used to,” I add the milk into my espresso, “She worked with us a lot last year, gave us personalized plans and stuff, but we had some budget cuts this year and that was one of the first things to go. But the Olympic team has a whole group of nutritionists and physical trainers.”

I press the coffee cup to my lips and delight in the feeling of the hot liquid filling my empty stomach—apparently my stomach shares my sentiments because it rumbles loudly as I lower the cup from my mouth.

Colton points to the bowls on the island, “Cake, then salad.”

“This does smell like heaven.” I concede as I make my way over to the steaming bowls. He’s standing on the opposite side of the island in front of his serving, watching me intently as I place the Tupperware and coffee cup down next to my mountain of dessert.

I make sure to get an even amount of ice cream and cake on my spoon before popping it into my mouth. Words evade me for the next few minutes as I scoop more and more of the warm, melty goodness past my lips. The banana bread is perfectly spiced, and I honestly want to know why they call it banana bread because no bread has the right to taste this good. And the steadily melting ice cream is adding a textural element to this that I didn’t know I needed.

“That good, huh?” He laughs as I mmm for the fifth time.

“Meemaw most definitely knows her way around the kitchen.” I finally manage after I’m halfway through my bowl.

The room devolves into hums of approval and the sounds of spoons scraping against porcelain as we shovel in more bites of what might be the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth. I’m so engrossed in Meemaw’s banana bread that I don’t hear anyone approaching until it’s too late.

“Eleanor, are you grinding the bloody coffee bean by bean or—” My mother storms into the kitchen, coming to a halt when she sees us leaning over our bowls at the island.

“Sorry, mother.” I manage as I scramble to pick up the coffee, bowl of dessert and Tupperware, “I lost track of time.”

She crosses her arms over her chest but doesn’t take her eyes off Colton, who pushes up from the island and slowly approaches her.

“I don’t believe we’ve met, ma’am.” He extends his hand, “My name is Colton Brooks, it’s a real pleasure to meet you.”

She looks down at his hand, then back up at his face, “The American.” She says after a moment, “Rodeo rider.” Statements of fact rather than questions.

“That’s me.” He nods with a smile, hand still extended.

“Charmed, I’m sure. Eleanor has tasks to attend to, Mr. Brooks. You’ll excuse us.” She spins on her heels, arms still firmly crossed against her chest. “ Now , Eleanor.” Are her last words before she strides from the room.

I hurry past Colton, shooting an apologetic look up at him as I pass.

“I think she likes me.” He winks, lowering his hand. There’s still a bright smile on his face.

“I’m sorry,” I hiss in a whisper, “If it makes you feel any better, she’s like that with almost everybody. Thank you for the cake—or thank Meemaw for me.” I angle the bowl upwards with a smile.

“You’re welcome, Ellie.” He raises his hand and waves as I make my way back up towards my room.

And I know I shouldn’t, but I find myself considering if going to the pub with everyone tomorrow night would be such a bad idea.