She makes a noise in protest but I pull back before she can actually say something. I smile at her and take a bite of one of my tacos, holding back a groan.So good.
“How was work this week?” I ask her. It’s Wednesday and, despite my intentions otherwise, this was the soonest we could make plans after Friday. I had a game in Denver this weekend and it turns out Ellie works an unusual schedule. I’m still surprised—and impressed—by her long shifts.
Ellie sets her half-finished second taco down and grabs her water. After a few sips, she puts it back on the coffee table and then angles herself toward me on the couch, her crossed legs facing me now.
“It was actually great. Obviously I went to school already and did my training in Boston, but this hospital is really good about continuing education. So yesterday I got to sit in on a training for this new burn treatment and it’s a freakingspray. It’s so cool,” she gushes. “I won’t go into too much detail, but it will save time and it works better to help keep wounds clean. Science blows my mind.”
Ellie lets out a little bomb noise as her hand makes an exploding gesture. I smile back at her infectious enthusiasm and marvel at her passion for her job. My job is fun and easy to love—but Ellie’s job is important and hard, and her loving it feels so much cooler. Bigger.
“Did you always know you wanted to be a nurse?”
She tilts her head back and forth while she finishes chewing. “Hmm, I guess yes? But it’s not for the noble reason you might think. I was like seven or eight and me and my mom were out at the store. This woman was next to us and I loved her outfit so much.” She giggles. “Spoiler alert—it was scrubs. I asked my mom what she did for work and she said ‘a nurse, maybe.’ So I committed then and there. Thankfully the actual job appealed to me once I learned more and got intoGrey’s Anatomy, but that’s how it started.”
Imagining a little Ellie infatuated with scrubs is pretty fucking cute. “And do you still love scrubs?”
“Heck yes, I do. I love not thinking about what I have to wear, and I still think they’re pretty cute to be honest.” Ellie smiles at me and takes a drink of water. “How’s your week been?”
She picks up her taco and starts eating again, chewing and focusing on me. I mimic her previous movements and set mine down on my plate. I wipe my mouth with the napkin next to my water and angle myself toward her, resting my arm on the back of the couch.
“My week’s been fine, got back from Denver last night. I don’t love travel nights, but we didn’t have to practice until three today, so there’s that at least.”
“What’s so bad about travel?” Ellie asks around a mouthful of food.
“In general, nothing really. Although we have been performing worse on the road,” I grumble. “But anyway, my main annoyance with travel games is that we usually leave right after. So we are flying at like ten, eleven, or twelve-ish at night and don’t get home until the early hours of the morning. It makes sense, but they suck. And the next day can be rough depending on our practice and game schedule,” I explain with a shrug.
“You don’t get the next day off?” Ellie’s nose scrunches when she asks, and I want to kiss the little wrinkle it creates.
I clear my throat and focus on her question. “Sometimes we do. But we have a game tomorrow, so we had a short practice today even though we flew back last night,” I tell her.
“That blows,” she says.
I laugh at that and nod, picking my taco back up. I look at her empty plate and feel a bit of pride swell in my chest. She obviously liked the food I brought and it’s one of my favorite restaurants. And she atefivetacos. Only one less than me. I take the last bite of mine and stand, grabbing her plate and bringing it to the kitchen.
“Ice cream now or later?” I ask her as I put the plates in the sink.
Ellie hums. I look up and see she’s grabbed the remote and is scrolling movie options. “Now is good.”
I grab the ice cream from the freezer and then scan the kitchen for where the utensils might be. I guess the drawer correctly on the first try and just barely stop myself from giving a fist pump. No need to highlight my ever-present competitive nature when I’m trying to impress. Not that Ellie is watching me locate spoons.
I think tonight is my unofficial chance to win Ellie over. I know we talked about it last week, but she seemed hesitant to commit to even a casual arrangement. I’m not sure if she’s fully onboard even now. So the ice cream? Me sucking up, one hundred percent.
I was a little nervous to talk about hockey at all, given how she seems to feel about my job, but I wanted to be honest when she asked about my week. And it makes up my entire life, truthfully, so it would be hard to avoid.
I’m also hoping the dinner portion of our night makes this less of a hangout and more of a date. At least on some subconscious level.Fingers crossed.
Ellie looks over to me as I walk back to the couch and holds a hand out, curling her fingers toward herself a few times as she silently asks for the ice cream. “This is dangerous, you know,” she warns me. “You’re setting an awfully high standard for yourself. I don’t think you know yet how much I care about food. And tacos and ice cream? Hard to beat.”
I hand her a spoon and sit close to her, my thigh bumping her crossed legs that are still facing me. Opening the carton and passing it, I clink my spoon to hers in cheers.
“I think I can handle it,” I say with a smile. And I can. Food? Definitely my specialty.
I’m mentally running through a list of restaurants to get her takeout from when Ellie puts a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. She leaves the spoon in there, upside down, causing her lips to form an involuntary frown. It reminds me of Saturday’s conversation again and brings a question to my mind that might be better left unasked.
Ellie scoops more ice cream from the carton she’s holding.
“So what made you agree to…this?” I ask, gesturing between our two bodies with a spoon.
She puts the ice cream in her mouth and smiles around the spoon, shrugging. “The sexth wath really good,” she says, mouth still full.
