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I went into my room and changed into my home uniform of a tank top and underwear. I could wear pants, but something told me it would be useless.
It was, after all, just one more item of clothing Ethan would have to take off me.
That’s right. My shift today had been quiet, and I’d been able to think everything over. Too many times, one might say, but whatever.
If Ethan and I were going to go for this and make it work, we were going to go for it. We didn’t need to get to know each other because we already knew one another. We’d known each other for as long as I could remember, essentially my entire life, and maybe it was just me, but I didn’t feel like going slow.
Emotionally, I’d been in this relationship for a while now.
I snorted at myself. I was ridiculous.
I changed my underwear before I went back out, shirking the comfortable cotton panties for some that were a little lacier and a whole lot sexier.
I even took off my bra, too.
Hey. It’d worked last time.
I pulled my hair into a bun on top of my head and cleaned my glasses, then went back to the kitchen. I hadn’t noticed before, but Ethan was wearing gray sweatpants.
It looked like I wasn’t the only one who’d dressed for the occasion.
“You sit down and—” He stopped when he saw me. “That’s unfair.”
I looked pointedly at his sweats. “Says the guy in gray sweats.”
“All right. It looks like dinner is a battle of wills.”
I grinned, sitting at the island. “So, how was your day?”
“Long. Dirty. Full of handiwork.” He picked up a glass of water.
“Exactly what I’m hoping this evening will be, then.”
He choked on his water, almost dropping the glass to the floor. “Jesus. I wasn’t expecting to hear you say that.”
I caught my tongue between my teeth and smiled playfully, propping my chin up on my hand. “I’m full of surprises.”
“Are you now?” He peered over at me. “Can you do magic, though?”
“I dunno. Does turning you on in two seconds count as magic?”
“It’s an impressive feat, but no.” He dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a shiny silver square. “Voila.”
“It’d be more interesting if you’d pulled it out from behind my ear.”
“I can’t do that. I don’t know how to.” He shrugged, tossing the condom on the island near me. “Also, it wasn’t that corny in my head.”
Wrinkling my face, I nodded. “It was pretty corny.”
“Worth a shot.” He shrugged, sending a small half-smile my way. “I guess my bad, corny lines are going to be as normal as you sending me to the store for lady bits.”
“Damn. I know I said you couldn’t rethink this, but can I?”
“No. No refunds. Sorry. You can’t just send a dick back because you don’t like the mouth that comes with it, Ava.”
I dropped my forehead to the counter and laughed, my entire body shaking. “Where the hell do you think these things up?”
“Same place you think up the shit that comes out of your mouth, honey.”
I sat back up, still laughing my ass off. “You talk out your ass, Hawkins.”
“From you, that’s quite the compliment. I don’t think you’ve spoken out of anything but your ass for at least five years.” He grabbed the handle of the saucepan that had the spaghetti in. “Why are you laughing like that?”
“Because,” I sputtered, holding up my hand so I could get ahold of myself. “I wondered earlier if everything would change now. I’m so used to bitching at you.”
“Are you glad that we just bitched at each other?” Ethan’s eyebrows shot up, and he looked at me over his shoulder as he drained the spaghetti.
“Yeah. It means not everything has changed.”
“Change isn’t a bad thing.”
“I know that, but I don’t want it to change too much. I kinda like bitching at you. It’s comfortable. A bit like the fact your insoles are still in my trunk.”
Ethan paused. “Huh. Shit. So they are.”
I smiled. “See? It’s fun.”
He returned my smile and got to mixing the spaghetti with the sauce. Two minutes later, he put the plate in front of me with a flourish. “Dinner is served.”
“It looks great.”
“Reserve judgment until you’ve tasted it. There’s every chance I messed it up.” He laughed and sat on the other stool with his own plate.
I twisted the fork in the spaghetti and took my first bite of Ethan’s cooking. I groaned as flavor exploded in my mouth, a rich mixture of basil and garlic, and oh, my God, all the things!
“Please don’t do that,” Ethan muttered.
I choked, clapping my hand over my mouth. “Sorry,” I whispered, taking the water he offered me. My bad.
“Thank you.” He side-eyed me and got back to eating, and I did the same.
Without moaning.
It was delicious, and we ate without talking. It was simultaneously comfortable and awkward, but if this was a new normal, it wouldn’t be the worst.
