The Last Thing She Wants (Chestnut Hills #1)

3

theo

I had now bumped into Ellie Branson four times.

Our first encounter was a passing moment.

A pink silk skirt clung to her thighs and cinched at the waist. She was a vision. The silk flowed down her legs, draped like an angel in a marble carving. Her face with her long brown wavy hair that perfectly matched her deep chocolate eyes made it hard to breathe. I couldn’t think of anything else except wanting to touch the smooth material deliciously coating her curves.

As I walked into the leasing office, I felt flustered and desperately searched for the community printer in the business services center after mine broke last minute. The stress of preparing for a test and being observed by the Dean for my yearly review consumed most of my attention. Then there she was, walking out of Celine’s office.

Like a dream, she disappeared just as quickly, sliding past me and out the front entrance before I could introduce himself. Needing to know who she was, I tried sneaking bits of information from Celine. I learned then that her name was Ellie, and she was checking on a package for her boyfriend, Shane. As quickly as my hopes inflated, they deflated and returned to flatline at the mention of a boyfriend.

Despite this, I thanked the universe for the existence of the community printer that I never thought I would have to use. Both for saving my ass and for bringing me and Ellie to cross paths.

The second time I saw her, I was mindlessly shifting through junk letters in front of my mailbox when a banging came from the front door. Just before I could reach her, the door swung open heavily, banging against the wall. I watched her in admiration and awe as she haphazardly balanced several large, bulky packages in her arms. Her mouth spewed a stream of expletives, worthy of a sailor’s pride. The sight of her overwhelming frame contrasted by her brash words made me laugh.

Realizing I was utterly failing at being gentlemanly, I rushed to her, offering to help. Dismissing me with a quick smile, she let out a rush of breath, relieved to see the elevator doors open. The doors closed on her while I listened to her curses towards her boyfriend and something about computer parts.

The third time, I took a trip to town to pick up a new pair of prescription glasses. The leaves were beginning to change color, and I decided to enjoy the scenery, like an adult. Just outside the apartments, a sidewalk lined a small street that led straight into downtown. Nearly home, I passed Ellie and Shane walking side by side.

By then, I’d become familiar with Shane. My regular visits to the leasing office to get to know Celine were usually marked with also making small talk with him.

Celine had clearly been expressing an interest in me. The woman didn’t have a shy bone in her body when it came to flirting, and I enjoyed that a woman was chasing me. Yes, I realized that’s kind of messed up, but selfishly, it boosted my ego. Further amplified by the fact that Celine was also a woman that other men wanted.

I’m not a total pig, though. I wanted to get to know her better first. And yet, almost every time I was there, so was Shane.

Only recently, I completed my master’s degree and became a professor at the local community college. I spent most of my time with my nose in books. So much time that it kept me somewhat secluded from the world, hidden away and hard to notice. Being a full-fledged adult now, though, I decided it was time to seek a serious relationship.

No more (very sporadic) one-night stands. No more games with uninterested, or uninteresting, women.

I wanted a relationship made of long late-night conversations between bites of pizza rolls at two in the morning after a midnight roll in the sheets. I wanted to be with someone who would let me show my emotions and rub my head while I rested it in their lap. I wanted to share my secrets with someone I trusted as much as I lusted after them.

Yeah, I knew I was a big softie. That’s why I tried to make sure my body screamed “masculinity,” spending hours in the gym building muscles and hours in the chair coating my arms with tattoos.

Celine wasn’t someone I’d typically go for, superficially, but she was nice and made it clear she was interested in me, so I thought why not? It only took one date to realize there wasn’t any substance to our dynamic. She used her body to flirt. She rarely contributed to the conversations, always agreeing with him, and never challenged me or even shared her own opinion.

During this time, spending at least a half hour in the leasing office a day, I found it strange how often Shane was around. It felt like he was always following me, showing up whenever Celine and I were together. Somehow, it always felt like we were in some secret competition for Celine’s attention. Had I not known Shane was with Ellie, I would have reckoned he and Celine were an item.

Funnily enough, that wasn’t completely wrong.

My heart raced with worry when Mrs. Hudson came reeling into the apartment gym, looking like she was going to have a heart attack and drop dead on the spot. Her rambling didn’t make sense, but I knew enough that a missing woman and a loud bang warranted investigation. Imagine my surprise when the package room door opened the moment we stepped into the room and Shane and Celine popped out.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out they had just, in my best Bill Clinton voice, had sexual relations.

As I watched them walk out of the closet in shame, it solidified my disinterest in Celine. I was indifferent to her involvement; but sadness pierced my heart, thinking of Ellie being betrayed.

Her care for him was undeniable. I had witnessed her struggle with his packages, rush around to attend to his needs, and hold him close as they strolled together. Knowing this made me want to tackle Shane into the stack of cardboard packages behind him when he stepped out.

Shortly after, I overheard the Speedwalking Gang talking in not so hushed tones about someone seeing Shane moving out. I hoped she’d decided to stick around, and I was holding out for another glimpse of her. Now I had. How I never realized we lived on the same floor, I didn’t know.

Now she was in front of me, flustered, her cheeks flushed with cherry pink and her lips parted with an excited breath. The way she stumbled forward to catch her phone gave me a perfect view of how round her ass was. I watched her rake her gaze over me, and I may or may not have flexed a little. If I couldn’t find the words to say, I could give her a show.

“Ellie, right?” I knew her name, and I felt like an idiot pretending not to.

“Ellie Branson.” She said with a sweet smile. My brain fired directions to my hand to hold it up and wave as the doors closed on me. Watching her smile, I decided I wanted to see that again.