“You know, I’m glad Cassie cheated on me.”
I nearly choke on my Cheesy Gordita Crunch.
Unphased by my near death experience Archer continues, “If she didn’t cheat on me, I would never have had a shitty start of the season and you never would have reached out to me and I wouldn’t be enjoying Taco Bell on the floor of my apartment right now.” He says as he leans against the couch. “I’m really fucking happy she cheated on me Elle, because it meant I got to re-meet you. I love you.”
I’m pretty sure my heart just grew three sizes. “I love you too.” I say as I kiss him softly.
Chapter 45
Archer
You know how in romance novels where everything is going great but there is like one hundred pages left and you’re sitting there thinking. “This is going too well, something bad is going to happen.” Like this would be the part in one of my pirate books where the duchess agrees to marry the commodore to save her beloved pirate.
Well, I’m not marrying any commodore but I did drunk post. Not only did I drunk post, but I drunk-posted a picture of Ellie. It’s not a bad picture at all, in fact it might be one of my favorite pictures of her ever. The Christmas tree is giving off soft lighting, she’s in sweatpants and one of my Wolves sweatshirts, and she’s slugging her Baja Blast. The problem is, I posted Ellie’s face and tagged her and then promptly fell asleep. This clearly had to have happened after she fell asleep as well because neither of us caught it until it was too late.
She’s not mad per say, but I can tell she’s flustered.
“I gained over twenty-three thousand followers, why do people want to follow me?!” Ellie exclaims. She’s curled up on the couch, her favorite blanket enveloping her, biting her lip. A nervous tick she has I noticed.
“Maybe they’re hoping you’ll post thirst traps of me?” I try to joke.
She shoots me a look that I know has had her students scrambling back to their seats.
“It’s going to be fine right? Like women aren’t going to try to Single White Female me, right?”
“I’m surprised you know that movie, you hate scary movies.”
“Just because I know the premise doesn’t mean I’ve watched it.”
“That’s fair.” I hand her a cup of coffee and sit next to her. “I really am sorry; you just looked so perfect I clearly had to show you off to the world.”
She offers a small smile as she pulls up the photo, “I do look pretty good.” She acquiesces.
“Although…” I begin. She shoots me a look. “I do think you’re one of the popular kids now.” Laughter escapes me as I dodge the pillow she tries to hit me with.
“It was going to happen eventually.” Elle says, sipping her coffee. “Everyone important in our lives already knew we were together so it’s not like a shock to our immediate friends and families.” I can’t tell if she’s trying to reassure herself or me. “I don’t think I’m that interesting, people aren’t going to be all that interested in me and my life. The coolest thing about me I guess is that I’m dating you. Hell, I’m not even a fashion icon, I stillwear skinny jeans.”
I beg to differ, she’s the most amazing and interesting person to me, but I keep my mouth shut because she’s clearly trying to reassure herself that this isn’t a big deal.
“Plus, like everything aside from my Instagram is private, so they can’t get major details about me.”
I nod, this is true, it’s like teaching 101, make everything private. Her Instagram was originally private too, but she turned it public at the gender reveal so her sister-in-law’s family could snag all the pictures she took and posted. She forgot to turn it back to private apparently.
“Are you going to be okay with everything?” I ask, my heart racing, anxiety finally taking hold that she might decide that the baggage of dating an NFL player is too much and end things.
“I’m going to have to be.” She smiles reassuringly at me. “I love you, and if this Instagram famous thing is a price to pay for being with you, I’ll gladly pay it.”
Relief floods through me and I kiss her cheek. “In that case, should we buy you some non-skinny jeans so you can fit in with the cool kids?”
She elbows me in the ribs, sloshing her coffee on her sweatpants. “SHIT! HOT!” she yells, I quickly grab her mug before she can spill more and help her clean up the rest.
She’s changing in our bedroom when I hear her yell, “Just for the jeans comment I will be posting thirst traps of you now.”
“My mom follows you!” I shout back.
“I don’t care!”
I chuckle and finish cleaning up the coffee mess.
