Becca: You said you like it there.
Kellie: Take the money. Still work there. Done.
Becca: Kellie is giving bad advice.
Marlee: I don’t want their money. I want my money.
Kellie: :/
Becca: Talk to Eli about it?
Sadie: I don’t think they’re talking yet.
Becca: Still? It’s been like four hours.
Marlee: Six.
Kellie: That’s not very long.
Becca: For Eli and Marlee it is.
Marlee used her key to let herself into Eli’s commercial kitchen to say thanks for bringing her lunch—even if she’d already been at lunch with her mom when he dropped it off. Since it was a slower week, it was just him working right then. He glanced up from whatever he was stirring on the stove.
“Mar,” he said her name on a breath.
After he walked out on her that morning, she’d left the apartment and did something she hadn’t done in forever. She bought herself a latte. Truthfully, it tasted like the best latte she’d ever had—it’d been so long since she treated herself. But she had steady employment and a four-dollar coffee seemed like an appropriate splurge given the details of what had happened with Eli. Then she delivered coffee to Bert and his friends. He’d asked what was wrong and she’d dodged his question. If her life was so messed up that even Bert noticed she was out of sorts, then she was absolutely failing at getting herself together.
She’d already decided not to be pissed at Eli about what had happened. She knew better than to expect anything from him when it came to relationships. He didn’t do them, she’d known this. And still, she’d practically thrown one at his doorstep. Then she’d inserted herself in his bed.
All thoughts of anything more than just being his friend were tucked firmly in a box in the back of her brain.
After coffee, she’d gone back home and spent an hour getting ready—blowing out her hair, picking the perfect dress that would be both practical for work in a flower shop and also give her the little boost of confidence she needed. Pink flutter sleeves totally boosted confidence—which was excellent, because when her mom showed up in person to ask her to lunch, Marlee needed that lift.
“Hi.” She headed toward the sink to wash her hands. Even if she had no plans of touching anything, Eli got all worked up if people came to his kitchen and didn’t scrub in.
“I’m glad you’re here.” He moved to her, grabbing a vase of purple orchids from the counter. “These are for you.”
Huh. Flowers were unexpected. Flowers were very relationship-y. Not super friendship-y.
She finished drying her hands, tossed the paper towel in the trash bin, and took the orchids. “They’re beautiful. Thanks.”
What was she supposed to say now? Jase had said Eli brought her lunch, but she’d already left with her mom. Their lunch had been nice—they kept to safe topics, caught up with each other—but after her mother offered money for Marlee to quit her job? Well, Marlee left the meeting feeling more alone than she had when she agreed to go.
“I’m sorry.” Eli stuffed his hands in the pockets of his chef jacket. “For running out on you this morning.”
The look of terror on his face. The way her heart fell when he dropped her to the bed. All of it flooded her again.
He gave the sauce another stir. “We almost ruined everything.”
They’d already had sex twice, gotten married, and she’d lost her fiancé and her trust fund. What more could they have done to ruin the everything he was talking about? “But we didn’t.”
“We weren’t paying attention.” His voice held a panicked tone she’d never heard from him before.
“We would’ve stopped.” She was pretty sure. They had just gotten caught up in the heat of everything and she had been barely awake. So had Eli. The feelings got too much for them. But they would’ve realized it before any damage was done.
He stepped toward her. His expression unreadable. “It’s the kind of mistake you make when you’ve been with someone for a long time. Not the second time you hook up.”
Her cheeks got hot at the term he chose. “Last night was just a hookup?”
