“I’d really like us to be friends, Beth,” she says.
My chest tightens.
“Especially since Ethan obviously adores you. You’re like… his favorite protégé.”
She smiles at me. Sweet. Open.
And for some reason it makes my stomach drop.
“It’s okay,” she adds gently. “I’ve caught you looking at him. I get it, right? That’s why I’m with him.”
My heart stops.
“I— what? No,” I rush out. Too fast. Too loud. “No. I’m with Sean. Ethan’s like— he’s like a big brother. He trained me. He hired me. He’s basically my boss. I would never. That’s… you don’t do that. You just don’t.”
The words tumble over each other, desperate and messy.
Please believe me. Please believe me.
She studies my face for a long second.
Then nods slowly.
“Okay,” she says.
Relief washes through me so hard my knees feel weak.
She bought it.
Thank God.
“I’m switching to Grey Goose and tonic,” she says, bright again. “We’re classy now. Can you grab limes?”
“Yes. Absolutely. Limes. I can do limes.”
Escape mission.
I slip into the kitchen, grateful for something normal and stupid to focus on. I rummage through the fridge, find a little mesh bag, grab a knife.
The house is quiet compared to outside. Just the fridge humming. My pulse loud in my ears.
I turn?—
—and nearly collide with someone.
I gasp. “Oh my God—you scared me?—”
Ethan.
Close.
Too close.
Close enough that I smell his cologne. Clean. Warm. Something woodsy.
He looks unfair tonight.
Tan from the sun. Sleeves pushed up. Those stupid glasses that somehow make him hotter instead of nerdier. His hair down for once, brushing his shoulders, curling at the ends.
