Jake cooking me dinner on a night when I was going to spoon some ramen and ice cream into my mouth and call it a meal meant more than I could put into words. And I tried not to feel embarrassed about the fact that something so small had such a big impact on me.
“Hey.” I look over to see Jake casually leaning against my door frame, a towel thrown over his shoulder. “Dinner should be ready in five. I’m gonna set the table while you wrap up.”
Finishing this paper in five minutes was easy, given that I had a home-cooked meal waiting for me and a hockey player who had made it his mission to ensure I wasn’t burning myself out as motivation. It felt nice to be cared for.
My mouth waters as I take a seat across from him and lay eyes on the vodka sauce pasta, steaming on top of our plates. “Ya’ know Keeley, if this is how you treat your fake girlfriends, I can’t even imagine the stops you pull out for your real ones.”
“You’ll have to keep imagining, given I’ve never really had one.”
“You’ve never had a girlfriend? How is that even possible?”
“This coming from the girl who snuck in the back entrance of the psychology building just so she wouldn’t have to see me?”
“That was under different circumstances. Don’t try to change the conversation.”
“Why do you care so much?” Jake smiles, though it doesn’t quite meet his eyes.
“I just find it surprising given your well-known history…”
“My well-known history….on the hockey team?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Don’t be smart. You know what I’m talking about.”
“Maybe, but I’d like to hear you say it.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“You say the kindest things to me.”
“I’m also starting to believe you have a degradation kink.”
“Oh, so we’re sharing kinks now?”
“Only my real boyfriends get to know my kinks. Sorry to disappoint.”
He rolls his eyes before finally answering my question. “I never really felt like turning any of my hook-ups into something serious. Hockey takes up all my free time and the girls I’ve been with know the deal. If they’re looking for a relationship, they won’t get it with me.”
“Fair enough.” Sub out focusing on hockey with focusing on research, and he basically summed up the reason why I haven’t had a serious relationship in…a while.
“And what about you? Any ex-boyfriends I need to track down and give a talking to?”
“Adding protective to the list of fake-boyfriend traits now, are we? You really commit to a bit.”
“The more you deflect the more I plan on annoying you about this. And for the record if someonedidhurt you, you can tell me. I’d make sure they’d never do it again.” His tone is lighthearted but there’s a sincerity in his eyes that makes me think he would follow through on his words.
“My answers are not that different from yours. I’ve been so focused on my research and doing what I can to help my family out, that I feel like I don’t have much time for anything else. With how busy I am, I’m scared I’d be a bad partner, so I just keep to myself instead...”
My eyebrows draw together as I reveal another one of myinsecurities. Many people have commented on my lack of work-life boundaries. The biggest hurdle I have yet to overcome is acknowledging that I can love my research, nannying, and tutoring while also making time for myself. Helping people genuinely did give me joy, but everyone has their limits. And I have a bad habit of pushing mine too far.
Jake reaches across the table and squeezes my hand, “Well if you treat your real boyfriend as good as you treat me. There’s no chance you’d be a bad partner, Ellie.”
“I could be a good partner…one day. Once I figure out how to take better care of myself. I don’t want to be overly reliant on my partner. Or have them enable my bad habits.”
“I think it’s possible to work on that, while in a relationship. My mom will be the first to admit she was really bad at giving attention to anything that wasn’t research until my dad came along. And even then, I know the start of their relationship had some rockier moments. I think you just need someone who understands how important your work is to you and respects the fact that an academic career is really time-consuming.”
My heart clenches. “Your dad sounds great.”
“He is. Honestly everyone in my family is. They’ve always been supportive of my hockey career, and never once pushed me to do something else. But I still can’t shake the feeling that I’m the black sheep of the family. I took this psych class with the hopes I’d finally be able to understand what my mom and sisters have dedicated their lives to and instead…” He shakes his head. “Let’s just hope I didn’t bomb the exam.”
