“Do you think he’d be down for moving back home?”
“I think it’s definitely worth asking, yeah. Asfar as I know, his roommates are moving out as soon as their lease is up, so he’ll be ready to relocate at the very least.”
Well, that’s convenient.
“Sweet. Well, I’ll definitely give him a call then.”
“Talk to Mellie lately?” Evan changes the subject. “We haven’t talked in a few weeks. She’s always so busy.”
“Yeah, we talked yesterday. She had some workshop training all day today or else I would be at home talking to her instead of settling for your dumb ass.”
“You know what? I think this charcuterie board is too nice for you.” Evan makes to pull the platter toward him and I pin it down.
“Hey now, Cat would be personally offended if I didn’t help eat this. You don’t want to disappoint your future wife, do you?”
Evan’s jaw falls open. “Playing the wife card… Not cool, bro.” He lets go of the platter with a grin.
“I still can’t believe your wedding is a month away,” I comment, shaking my head as I pull a few slices of meat and cheese over to me. “This year has flown by.”
“You’re fucking telling me. I just got engaged like yesterday. How is it already October?”
The evening winds down, and I leave Evan’s house feeling a little bit lighter than I did when I’d arrived. Once home, I get ready for bed, and prepare myself for more of the same tomorrow. And the day after that, and the day after that.
One day at a time.
Chapter Forty-Three
MELLIE
“Bye, Mellie!”
I wave to our receptionist as I leave the office, heading into the hallway in the direction of the elevators. My feet drag along the carpeted corridor, my exhaustion from the week catching up to me at long last.
The team has been going hard in the writing room, and it’s utterly draining. I had no idea before arriving here how mentally tired I’d be at the end of every day. It’s a constant flow of energy being put forth in there, bouncing ideas off of one another and—oh yeah—re-write after re-write after re-write.
All I can allow myself to think about right now is the pair of fluffy slippers waiting for my tired feet at home and calling Ronin to see how his week went. A shot of adrenaline shoots up my spine at the thought of seeing him. It’s been over a week since our last video call, and I miss my boyfriend’s face so much I could weep.
It’s not the only thing I miss, either. Three whole months of distance has me ready and rearing to go like I’ve never been before. We really need to plan a visit as soon as possible before I spontaneously combust and wind up burning down my apartment building.
The elevator dings and I step in, smiling blandly at the few people already inside. We ride down in silence, emptying out into the lobby and then I’m swept up in the foot traffic of downtown Los Angeles—the one thing I definitely didn’t miss about LA. It’s an hour of travel time between the Metro ride to the station closest to my apartment and the taxi ride home.
When I finally arrive, I kick off my shoes the moment I unlock the door, and drop my bag on the couch on the way to my bedroom. Minutes later I emerge in my coziest set of pajamas and my fluffy slippers, and head into the kitchen to whip up something for dinner.
I miss my mom’s cooking. I missRonin’scooking.
Settled onto the couch with my microwaved dinner, I open my laptop sitting on the coffee table. Right on cue, my video chat app rings and I hurriedly click to answer.
Ronin’s face fills my computer screen and I immediately relax, the tension from my work week seeping into the sofa as I grin at my boyfriend.
“Hi, baby!” I practically squeal the greeting, and Ronin’s deep blue eyes crinkle as he smiles back at me.
“Hey, beautiful,” he replies. A chair creaks as he sits down, and I realize he’s in his office and not at home, cozy like me.
“Couldn’t get the night off, huh?” I ask as I begin to spoon scorching hot macaroni and cheese into my mouth. I definitely think I’ve burned some of my tastebuds off in my rush.
Ronin sighs. “No, we had a last minute call-out from our already minimal staff, so here I am. I’ve been here all day.” He looks about as tired as I feel. “Think anyone will notice if I close up early?”
“Hmm, that depends. Has Sal already stopped in for his Friday night tea party?” That man rivals Imogen for the role of town gossip. Ronin and I have a running joke about Sal’s “tea parties” at the diner, which is basically him filling Ronin in on all the latest town dramatics while he hangs around the bar. Then, of course, Ronin tells me all about it during our daily, or sometimes weekly, talks.
