Chapter 17 Trouble
Trouble.
I could get used to waking up to this.
The scent of butter and eggs filled the air, mixing with the faint traces of El’s cologne. His side of the bed was still warm, even though he had left it. I laid still, taking in his warmth for as long as I could until the heat ran out. Then, I ventured out to find the source.
I found him standing at the stove, glasses on, and shirtless with his sweatpants slung low on his hips, looking like he hadn’t caused a scene at a restaurant less than twenty-four hours ago.
Or like he didn’t study my complete anatomy just hours after that.
I was beginning to think nothing fazed this man.
“Good morning, Peanut,” he said without turning around.
I slid onto one of the barstools at his kitchen island. “Good morning.”
El glanced over his shoulder. “I’m not the best cook, so I just made some eggs.”
I eyed him warily. “Oh God, are you one of those people who seasons eggs like it’s meat?”
“Absolutely not. Too much sodium,” he scoffed.
I nodded approvingly. “Good. Eggs should not taste like pork chops.”
He laughed, shaking his head as he plated the food.
I watched him closely, leaning on my elbows. “How are you from New Orleans and can’t cook?”
He scoffed. “It’s not like I could have a lot of the stuff anyway.”
“Why?” I asked.
He pointed towards his insulin pod. “Too much sodium.”
I bit my lip for being oblivious to the obvious. “Right, my bad.”
He smiled. “It’s okay. I can make some toast if you want.”
“I’m fine.” I took a deep breath, bracing myself before I continued. “El…”
“Yes?”
I hesitated before asking, “Can we talk about the restaurant?”
He set the pan into the sink and turned to face me. “Sure. What about it?”
I straightened in my seat, meeting his eyes. “It was wrong. You overstepped. Tracking my phone and showing up unannounced was completely uncalled for.”
He leaned back against the counter, arms folding slowly over his chest. My eyes caught on the way his bicep flexed, the way his veined, inked, and solid forearms shifted as he crossed them. So damn distracting I almost forgot why I was upset in the first place.
Almost.
“Was it?” His calm voice cut through my wandering thoughts. “Because I distinctly remember telling you I didn’t want you to go on that date.”
My spine straightened at the shift in his tone, and my jaw clenched.
“Elliot, we are friends. That’s it. So thinking you have a say in what I do outside of our friendship is ridiculous.”
That made him move.
He pushed off the counter without a word, took the plate he’d just finished preparing, and walked over to me.
Then, he placed the plate down in front of me but didn’t step back.
Instead, he stayed there, looming over me, tall and solid and unrelenting.
I could feel the heat of his body in the space between us.
Too close.
My breath caught. I shifted in my seat, suddenly hyperaware of all the lingering tension between us.
“You think it’s right for you to tell me you don’t want to date,” he started quietly, his voice low and steady, “but then turn around and go on a double date?”
I blinked, my mouth opening without a clear thought behind it. “That’s different, El. And you know it.”
“No.” His jaw flexed. “All I know is you shut us down before it was even a possibility, and now you’re out with men you aren’t even attracted to.”
Us.
My stomach turned at the word. It echoed louder than the rest.
I rolled my eyes to hide the sting. “It was a favor.”
He exhaled sharply through his nose, frustration etched in the lines of his face. “I don’t give a damn what it was. I would never do that to you, Elliot. It’s about respect.” His eyes bore into mine. “This ‘friendship’ doesn’t work if we don’t respect each other.”
I tried to look away, to shield myself from how pointed those words felt. But just like at the shelter, he wasn’t having it.
He reached out—gently, but firmly—and tilted my chin up with a finger, forcing me to meet his gaze. His touch was soft, but it made my heart slam against my ribs like it was trying to escape.
“Understand?”
My throat was tight. My pride was louder than my feelings about him, but it couldn’t find a foothold at this moment, so I swallowed.
“Yes,” I answered, dry and barely audible.
His finger lingered for a second longer than necessary. Then he let go and stepped back, his eyes still on me.
“Good,” he said. “Now eat something..”
I picked up my fork, trying to mask the tremble in my hands with a scoff.
“Fine.”
But the food sat untouched for a while. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t quite shake the feel of his fingers on my skin… or the sound of that one word: Us.
It echoed in my chest, stirring something tender and terrifying.
Time to redirect.
I cleared my throat. “El?”
He looked up from his plate. “Yes, Peanut?”
“Last night was so crazy we didn’t really get to talk about it but, you said your company was interested in helping the shelter.”
“They are,” he said with a nod. “We even talked about setting up a donation bin in the break room. I’d be the one overseeing the sponsorship side of it, so if you need anything, just tell me.”
I hesitated. “Are you sure? I mean, I know you’re busy with your own work…”
“Not at all,” he said easily. “And I want to keep volunteering. I get weekends off anyway. Might as well use them for something good.”
“You really don’t have to,” I said, pushing eggs around my plate. “I can manage with my team. I don’t want to put too much on you.”
He set his fork down and looked at me. “It’s not a problem, Ellie. I’ll always make time to help you.”
?
“Next thing I know, El’s ass was walking up to the table with Ellie, talking about how he paid for the dinner and now he’s taking her home.”
The girls gathered around the salon’s reception desk as Esther recounted this weekend’s events. On Mondays, we had a staff meeting before the salon opened to discuss the schedules and plans for the week.
At this staff meeting, I wanted to announce my ideas for the Hair Expo, but apparently, my team was more interested in my personal life.
Johanna’s eyes widened at Esther’s words. “Damn. Just like that?”
“Just like that,” Esther confirmed, shaking her head with approval.
When I got home from El’s, she bombarded me with questions, letting me know that avoiding her after the restaurant was the right choice.
Still though, she was not convinced that nothing happened between Elliot and me. I couldn’t say I blamed her, I wouldn’t believe me either.
London let out a low whistle. “Wow, Ellie, he don’t play about you.”
I rolled my eyes, shifting in my seat. “He was just upset about the date. We talked about it, and it’s fine now.”
Chelsea cocked her head, clearly amused at this whole conversation. “Why was he upset if you’re not dating?”
I hesitated. “He’s… protective. He doesn’t think I should be going on dates I don’t want to.”
“Oh, please,” Hope snorted, still engrossed in her phone as always. “Is he your daddy?”
Esther leaned in, completely ignoring Hope’s comments. “Elliot, level with me now. You had to have given him some to have him acting that way.”
I scoffed. “No, I haven’t. The answer isn’t going to change no matter how much you ask it.”
London raised an eyebrow. “Not even close?”
“No, not even.”
Chelsea wasn’t convinced. “So what did you two do all night when you went over?”
I shrugged. “Nothing. I just took a shower, and we went to bed.”
Johanna smirked. “Not even any finger action?”
I shot her a look. “Girl.”
Esther wiggled her eyebrows. “You rubbed that big ole country booty up against him?”
“No.” I rubbed my temple. All this speculating was giving me a headache. “Why are y’all so invested in this anyway? It’s not this deep.”
“Girl, it is this deep!” Esther exclaimed with a bit too much excitement. “From the time I’ve met you, you’ve never been interested in any man. In fact, you slept in my bed so much, I thought you swung both ways with your clingy ass.”
I narrowed my eyes at her for telling my business.
“Now you laid up with a man, going on coffee dates and spending the nights over at his place? I’m very invested in this,” Esther grinned.
“It’s nothing to invest in,” I sighed. “I don’t know why he’s interested in me this much. I wish I knew so that I could turn it off.”
Hope, sounding bored, leaned back in her chair. “It’s a simple answer.”
Esther turned to her, already annoyed with her presence. “And what is that?”
Hope blinked, unimpressed. “Are you slow? Elliot hasn’t given it up yet, so he’s playing nice until she does.”
London’s face twisted. “Absolutely not.”
Johanna scoffed. “No way. You remember all those bottles he sent over at the club? He’s so into her.”
Hope just shrugged, uninterested. “Let’s be real.
What man in his late thirties wants to be hanging around a twenty-something all damn day?
You think you two have so much in common or that you’re so interesting he’s just stimulated by conversation alone?
Please. You’re young, dumb, and willing to spend the night at his house without going on a real date.
The minute you give in, he’s gonna use you up or disappear. Watch.”
Huh.
It felt like a stone had been thrown into my chest, sinking deep and making its home in my stomach. My lips quivered at her words, so I bit them to stop. I’ve thought of it as a possibility, but to hear it out loud was…discouraging.
“Wow,” I muttered.
Chelsea bristled. “You are so—” She groaned when she couldn’t even find the words.
Johanna finished for her. “Fucking mean.”
“Hey,” Hope shrugged again. “Just giving her a reality check. Why else would he be hanging around her like a puppy? He wants to hit.”