the water. It was cool heaven sliding down her throat. “Thank you.”
“I came because you said that you wanted me. Only me. And that it was an emergency.”
Ellery’s eyes widened. “I said what?”
Gage pulled his phone from his back pocket. He wore faded pale jeans that molded to his body, black motorcycle boots, and a tight Kinks concert T-shirt. “Please come get me, Gage. It’s an emergency. I need you. Only you. This is Ellery, BTW.” He waggled the phone.
“I was drunk.”
“No shit, Sherlock. I kinda figured that out.”
“But you came anyway.” She swallowed hard and shook her head. “I don’t know why I did that. Why I asked you to come and scared you that way. I felt so alone . . . and . . . I think . . . ugh.”
Gage watched her as she grappled with the situation. The strange cat crept out and leaped onto the bed. Ellery turned to look at the ugly beast. He was rangy, mottled, and ugly as sin, but he purred sweet, and his green eyes fastened on hers with something eager in their depths.
Love me.
The cat bumped her knee, then ducked his head under her elbow. She was almost certain he was covered in fleas, but she still gave him a pat anyway.
Gage sank onto her bed. “You know, I think the best thing to do in moments like these is have something to eat.”
Ellery gave him a small smile. “That sounds better than me waffling around in embarrassment, trying to figure out . . . my entire life.”
“Mmm . . . waffles. Those sound good. Let’s have that.” He petted the purring cat. “This cat has fleas.”
“I know.”
“I’ll put the cat out, and you get dressed.”
“No,” Ellery said, sliding from the bed. She crossed her arms in front of her breasts, even though she knew Gage had already seen her in her glory. Or rather not in her glory at all. Ugh, she’d probably looked sweaty and close to death. “I mean, I’d like to give him some tuna or something. He looks hungry.”
Gage lifted an eyebrow. “I knew underneath all that glitter and bluster beat the heart of a softie. I’ll find him something.” With that, he scooped up the agreeable tomcat and shut her door. Ellery eased back onto the mattress and grabbed the cell phone Gage had placed on her bedside table, trying to ignore the thump, thump of her head. A quick glance showed she had a few Snapchats and a text from her mom with a cut-and-dried directive about procuring the date at Evan’s daughter’s school. Evan. Gage’s uncle. Gage.
He’d driven an hour and a half to come to her.
What did that mean? Something? Nothing? She wasn’t sure. What she was sure about was she needed to get the heck up and wash the sticky shampoo from her hair . . . then she could try to salvage her image with sexy bartender guy.
Fifteen minutes later, with the stray cat fed and put on the patio, Ellery sipped ice-cold water at a Waffle House. Gage sat across, nursing black coffee and studying her.
“You’re not going to puke, are you?” he asked.
“I don’t think so.” Though she wasn’t sure. Her stomach had rolled during the motorcycle ride to the restaurant. Of course that could have been because she was wrapped around Gage, the wind ripping at her still-wet ponytail, as she prayed not to die or vomit on Gage’s back.
“Food will help.”
At that moment the waitress slapped down a plate with eggs, bacon, and grits followed by another plate containing a waffle. Gage had the same, except he’d gone for hash browns instead of grits. “Here you are. Get you anything else?”
Ellery shook her head before picking up her fork and diving in. She ate half her plate before she looked back up at Gage. “I feel better.”
“Nothing like Waffle House after a night of drinking.”
Ellery had never been to a Waffle House before. Josh wouldn’t be caught dead here. He preferred an overpriced, trendy brunch spot over on Line Avenue that featured remoulade and hollandaise sauces, but the basic food here was pretty good, and the cheerful banter between guys in work boots driving big, white trucks and the sassy waitresses made her smile. Clattering dishes, cooks yelling “Order up,” and the friendly sunshine streaming through the glass window front were comforting. “I’ll try to remember that. Or perhaps I should try to not do what I did last night ever again.”