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Instead, I press my lips together, and I nod yes.
Chapter 5
Violet
I hug my seatbelt. Otherwise, my hands might get ideas about Ethan's arm. It's awfully inviting by his side, his fingers trailing over the gearshift the same way they glide over his guitar strings.
I want to trace all the lines of his new tattoos. I want to learn every shape, every color, every hidden meaning behind the ink. Ethan always wore his heart on his sleeve. Now it's literal.
Hugging the seatbelt isn't working. Better play with the radio instead. That's safe enough. I tune it to KROQ 106.7, the Los Angeles alternative rock station. I still remember the first time Ethan's band was played on KROQ—his eyes were lit up like he had just won a trip to the moon. He scooped me into his arms and spun me around and promised that we'd have the world together, that this was great for us.
It was supposed to be that we were a team. Ethan was the only person I ever trusted, the only person I ever let into my heart.
My chest tightens. What's it matter now? Ethan is going to drop me off at my car, I'm going to drive home, the last twelve hours are going to become a distant memory.
That's how things should be.
"You want to get a coffee?" He slides his fingers over the steering wheel like he's fretting his guitar. "Or tea."
This is the part where I say no, that's a bad idea. I should get back to my car and drive home. You broke my heart once, I already begged you to sleep with me, do I really need any more pain or humiliation?
I say none of that.
I nod. "I guess."
He smiles. I swear to God, every inch of my body can feel Ethan's smile. His smile is the sun breaking through the clouds on a dreary New York day.
His smile makes me feel as good as it did when we were together.
"The usual place?" he asks.
"Huh?"
"The Peet's at UCI?"
Our old hangout spot. "It's twenty minutes out of the way." And it's full of memories of when everything was perfect between us. I can't go thinking about the old version of Ethan. I can't get confused.
"You have something better
to do?" he asks.
I don't have much to do in the next twelve days besides getting ahead on school work and keeping up with my karate training—strong body, strong mind, strong ability to resist Ethan's smile and his expert guitarist hands.
My body is still buzzing from the proximity. I'm not sure if I'll be able to resist him if he makes me laugh, then leans in for a soft, slow kiss. He always took his time making sure I was ready, getting me off before he even stripped out of his boxers.
The radio station goes from a Trader Joe's commercial to a Red Hot Chili Peppers song. Everything about it feels like home.
I have to laugh.
Ethan laughs too. "Miss KROQ?"
"Always."
"What are you listening to these days?"
"Same riot girl stuff as always." I smooth my dress in the hopes of pulling it farther down my legs. No luck. "I caught the new album when it came out last year. It's good."
"I know."
