Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
MATT
Ellie’s face loses some of the humor, but her smile remains.
“I’m not sure yet,” she says with a shrug.
“No criteria in mind?” I ask her. I want to know what she’s looking for and if I’m really only going to be a passing ship here.
She grabs her water glass and takes a sip before setting it back down. She hums as she glances around her apartment for a few moments. She’s not smiling anymore—she looks thoughtful. I sit up straighter in my seat.
“I guess I want a real partner,” she says a little shyly, like she’s not sure it’s a good answer.
I sober at what she said, my shoulders falling forward.
That’s somehow both a simple and complex answer at the same time.
“Like someone who prioritizes you?” I ask.
That type of thing is not really a big ask for most people.
Professional athletes though? It can be.
And it sums up why most of my previous relationships didn’t work out.
“Kind of? I would prioritize them too, though. Obviously there is a lot that goes into it, but I want someone who builds a life with me. Not around me or for me. If that makes sense.”
“What kind of plans was this ex making without you?” I hedge. Now I’m curious as shit. I try to be patient as I watch Ellie think, tilting her head from side to side.
“It’s kind of a long story.” She sighs. “Anyway, this isn’t really the proper thing to talk about on a first da—”
Was she going to say first date? I feel a new smile grow on my face as I watch a blush creep onto hers. “On a what, exactly?” I don’t think I could school my cheesy grin if I tried. Her use of the word proper again is killing me. I work hard to keep a laugh from slipping out. So fucking cute.
Her mouth pops open before she abruptly shuts it. She covers her face with her hands and tilts it up to the ceiling. “This night is so embarrassing,” she mutters.
I can’t stop my laugh this time. Ellie propositioned me for sex and yet calling this impromptu meeting a “first date” is what’s embarrassing her.
The blush still peeking out from where her hands are on her face reminds me of the way she asked earlier.
I cannot believe someone this fun to be around is stressed about having sex.
About being bad at sex. She’s stunning and cute and obviously smart and funny.
She could do absolutely nothing and I’m one hundred percent sure it wouldn’t be bad.
Man, the thought of her propositioning someone else for practice sex is making some baser caveman instincts surface. Everyone else can fuck right off. This one’s mine.
“Ellie?”
She removes her hands and gives me a skeptical look.
“I wouldn’t have asked about your ex if I didn’t want to know. So, proper or not”—I can’t help my smile as I use her word choice—“I would’ve been happy to talk about it. But maybe we can save that for our second date.”
I watch her now predictable blush deepen, satisfied that I already have a tiny part of her figured out. I have a feeling it’s only going to get worse with this next part.
“How about you convince me why I wouldn’t hate your two favorite beaches tonight and then we rip the Band-Aid on a night when I haven’t just come from a workout followed by a crowded bar. That way I can shower first and—”
Ellie’s expression changes from embarrassment to something else I can’t quite figure out.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask with mild caution, not wanting to guess at what she’s thinking.
“What if you took a shower here?” Ellie asks. “With me. Tonight.”
Now my mouth pops open. Oh fuck. I did not see that coming. Why did I mention the shower? How am I supposed to say no to her?
Do I want to see a wet, naked Ellie? Fuck yes. But I also don’t want to be just a one-night stand.
Worse, a practice one-night stand.
Maybe if I can make this the best shower sex she’s ever had, she’ll consider a regular “practice” schedule?
The more chances I have to convince her I’m worth more than rip-the-Band-Aid sex, the better.
All right, Matt. Don’t fuck this up. Guess you’ll just have to woo her.
In the shower.
Thank fuck for hockey-trained leg strength and stamina…