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This moment is what I care about.
I nearly squeal with glee when he slides a plate of scrambled eggs and a halved avocado in front of me.
"Rock god, sex god, avocado god." I stare into Ethan's gorgeous blue eyes. "That's a dangerous combination."
He grabs the hot sauce and slides into the seat across from mine. "Shouldn't it be an avocado goddess? They're an awfully feminine fruit." He traces the outline of a halved avocado. "It's got a shape to it."
"Pervert!"
He laughs. "Not in a sexual way. In an all life springs from the womb kind of way."
I stick out my tongue in distaste. "Did you become a hippie when I wasn't looking?"
"No. Still a rock star."
"You really are." I scoop avocado onto my eggs. Then hot sauce. "Don't you get recognized at the gym?"
"There's a fancy gym at the mall next to main street now. I get is that him stares, but people know better than to interrupt."
"Rich people would never want to seem uncouth."
"Or admit to liking the commoners' music." He digs into his eggs. "These are good."
"You made them."
"Still, didn't expect them to turn out this good."
I reach over to run my fingers through his hair. "You're good at lots of things."
He looks me in the eyes. "Do I make you happy?"
"Yeah, you do."
"Then I'm good at the two things that matter to me."
"Making eggs and making me happy?" I tease.
"Music and you." He takes another bite. This time, he chews slowly. His voice gets soft, cautious. "We have to leave in a few hours. The show tonight is in Albany. They're three hours ahead of us."
"Sure." I take a few bites. The eggs really are good. And I really do appreciate Ethan cooking and making tea. He's really taking care of me.
Right now, life really is perfect.
The next few days with Ethan are a blur of afternoons on the bus, evenings at shows, and nights in his room.
Joel is no longer arranging his own transport but he isn't talking to Mal either. The two of them seem content to give each other the cold shoulder indefinitely.
Between studying and job applications, I stay busy enough to stay out of the fray. One of the genetics labs in Orange County wants to hire me, based entirely on my published articles, resume, and cover letter. Ethan will be home all summer. He'll be home whenever he's not on tour.
We could be together.
It's a great lab too. On paper, it's perfect.
I should wait to hear back from the labs in other parts of the country. They might offer better salaries or more responsibilities. They might be better for my future career.
None of that seems as important as being someplace that feels like home. My parents' place has plenty of room to grow on that front, but being with Ethan, that feels like home.
I force myself to arrange a Skype interview, to make sure it's a good fit, but deep down, I know I want to take the job.
