He couldn't let Ellie get to him like that.
He couldn’t let himself lose control.
So, he kissed her? So, he liked it? That didn’t mean he was falling in love. It didn’t have to mean anything close to that. He was a man and she was a woman and their chemistry clicked. The end.
No harm there.
Ellie was beautiful and—surprisingly enough—had a body he liked to get his hands on. She was funny and smart and not afraid to say exactly what was on her mind. And he liked to be around her. So what?
No harm there, either.
James soaped up and rinsed off, then got dressed and stepped outside into a glorious sunset. Palm trees lined the walk leading to the parking lot, the thick fronds swinging in a light breeze off the ocean. He was supposed to meet Ethan and Oliver at The Pit to spar and given how tired he was, it was going to suck. Though it sure as hell beat the alternative, which was spending another night alone in that big, empty house. He wasn’t drunk enough for that. He stopped for a snack on his way to The Pit and showed up a good ten minutes late, meeting Ethan and Oliver coming out of the locker room on his way in.
“Thought you were gonna stand us up,” Ethan said.
“Nah, just got hung up at the gym.”
Oliver widened his eyes. “You hit the gym first? You’re asking to get the shit knocked out of you.”
Ethan snickered and clasped James’ shoulder. “Don’t worry, buddy. I’ll take it easy on you tonight.”
“You're just saying that now, so you won’t look as bad when I take you to the mat.” James smirked and cracked his neck before disappearing into the locker room.
His body burned.
His knuckles ached.
His muscles complained when he moved and no matter how many times he shifted on the couch, he couldn’t get comfortable.
He’d put up a good fight, landing strike after strike on Ethan, popping right back up if his friend took him down. No doubt, James had won the match. But he dug too deep into his reserves to pull it off and by the time he took on Ollie, he had nothing left. Oliver landed a string of powerful hits until James finally went down. And stayed down.
It was good, though. Even losing, he learned a lot about digging past exhaustion and making fast decisions while his brain was thick with fatigue. James chalked the day up as a win, regardless of the scorecard. Of course, that was only because it had been practice. He’d have an entirely different attitude about losing when he finally entered a real fight.
James wanted a drink. Hell, he needed a drink. But his promise to Ellie walked him back from the liquor cabinet every time he caved. In the end, he poured a big glass of water and occupied himself by rummaging through the trash piled around his living room, tossing stuff into bags and separating good from garbage. As he worked, the state of the place really hit home. Had Ellie really been in his house while it looked like that? Twice? The fact that she hadn’t run screaming said something.
Just what that something was, James wasn’t sure.
It didn’t take long, digging through the remnants of his life with Erin, for the ache in his heart to swell back to life.
It wasn’t so much that he missed her. Not any longer. What he missed was the idea of her. The fantasy of what their life together could have been. The trash and missing furniture in his living room only reminded him how futile the fantasy had been.
After spending an hour filling multiple trash bags, he finally caved and poured himself a drink.
And then another.
And then another.
And then he didn’t care about everything he lost anymore. The trash bags sat where he left them, propped up against each other near the door, and James dragged himself upstairs and fell into bed.
The weirdest thought swirled to the top of his consciousness as he teetered on the edge of sleep. He wanted to text Ellie goodnight and tell her how excited he was for Saturday. But realizing that was foolish, he batted it back down before he succumbed to darkness.
Chapter Thirteen
Ellie
The few days leading up to Ellie’s date with James were the longest in the entirety of her life. They dragged by, each one an eternity in and of itself. No matter what she did, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Half the time, she wanted to call the whole thing off. The kiss they shared before he left her apartment? That spelled trouble. With a capital T. The more distance she put between them, the safer they’d be.
The other half of the time, she couldn’t wait to see him again. Couldn’t wait for more chances to touch him. For him to touch her. And for more kisses which would leave her breathless for days.
Saturday morning arrived and Ellie still wasn’t any clearer on what she actually wanted. Though, clarity or not, the date was happening, so it was time to pick an outfit. Yawning, she flicked through the clothes in her closet with one hand while sipping from her coffee with the other. Each screech of a hangar against the rack brought her closer to the conclusion that she wouldn’t be happy with anything she had.
It was all too old…
…or too small…
…or too baggy…
…or it clung to her stomach…
…or it was the wrong color…
…or, or, or…
Or maybe she was too hard on herself and needed to ease back on the self-loathing. The truth of the matter was that every time she held up a shirt, she heard Parasite Steve’s voice in her head.
You look like a bloated sausage in that shirt.
That color makes your skin look awful.
Your boobs are too big for fabric that thin.
You know what, she thought. Fuck Steve.
Flipping her ex a mental middle finger,
