about three aliens.”
Ethan shoots me a quizzical look. Apparently, he hasn’t taken a stroll down the romance aisle of his local bookstore lately. I’m not the only one reading this stuff.
“They’re not gay,” I add for some reason.
Stop talking.
“Well, I mean they’re not totally straight either. There’s obviously some… touching…”
Stop talking. Now.
“But there’s a woman, too. She crash-landed on their planet, and they’re more interested in impregnating her than touching each other’s…”
Don’t say dicks. For the love of all that is holy, do not talk about alien dicks in front of your boss.
“… dicks.”
My cheeks flame and my pulse races under my skin. If the sinkhole thing doesn’t work out, maybe I’ll just burrow my way under Ethan’s sofa cushions and hide there for… well, the rest of eternity.
Ethan looks like he’s genuinely pondering the plot for a moment then simply says, “Huh.” The single syllable lacks any amount of judgement. “I always figured you were reading Jane Austen or Shakespeare or something.”
Nope, just big-dicked blue alien breeding smut.
“Well, I mean, I’ve read Jane Austen too. But my taste in books is usually a little more…” What’s the word I’m looking for? Modern? Whimsical?
“Pervy?” Ethan jokes.
My mouth snaps shut. I give Ethan an incredulous look, even though it takes every ounce of self-control to pretend like I’m not dying of shame on the inside.
“I’m going to have to quit,” I announce.
“What?” he laughs abruptly. “You can’t quit.”
“No, I’m going to have to,” I say it like a joke, but I’m half-serious. This is too mortifying.
“Over alien porn?”
The nervous laugh that escapes my throat sounds like a leprechaun on cocaine. “Yes, because my boss is now aware that I spend my free time reading romance books about big-dicked aliens and their faulty loincloths. I can’t work for you anymore.”
Ethan smiles at me, shaking his head. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and taps the screen a few times before handing it to me. “Here.”
Tentatively, I reach for the phone and look down at the screen. The word MILF jumps out at me, making my eyebrows leap up to my hairline.
“What’s this?” I ask, glancing over at him.
“My recent porn history. Now we’re even.”
My gaze drops back down to the screen. A search bar at the top reveals his recent searches. All of them involve the wordMILF. Obscured thumbnails of big boobs loom in the background.
“This isn’t nearly as embarrassing,” I say, handing the phone back to him. “If anything, this is sort of—I don’t know—endearing.”
A laugh punches from his chest as his brows draw together in confusion. “How is my affinity for MILF porn endearing?”
“It means you like age-appropriate women, imperfections and all. This isn’t nearly as bad as what you just saw on my Kindle. I’m still going to have to quit.”
Ethan ponders this for a minute as he slides his phone back into his pocket. He lets the back of the sofa catch his head as he blows out a big, dramatic breath.
“Alright, here it goes,” he says solemnly. When his hazel eyes meet mine, I sit up a little straighter and listen intently. “No one else knows this about me, but… I have a third nipple.”