I roll my eyes hard enough that I’m pretty sure they orbit the planet. When they return to earth, I shoot him a doubtful glare. “You do not.”
“I do.”
“Fine, then show me.”
He shakes his head, maintaining his serious façade. “It’s on my ass.”
“Well, now I know you’re lying. Half the women in Denver have seen your ass, so it certainly wouldn’t be some big secret. In fact, your third nipple would probably be the runner up for Denver’s Most Eligible Bachelor… if it actually existed, that is.”
“Such a smartass,” he mumbles with a smile.
“Such a liar,” I counter.
Ethan’s eyes linger on mine for another second before he turns back to the television. He turns it on and starts scrolling through movie options. “What do you want to watch, smartass?” Pausing on the icon forE.T., Ethan cocks an eyebrow at me. “Probably best to avoid this one, given your sexual proclivities. Wouldn’t want you getting too worked up over there.”
“Ha-ha,” I deadpan, rolling my eyes again. “Probably best to avoidMurder, She Wroteas well. Wouldn’t want you getting too worked up over Angela Lansbury.”
Ethan’s laugh is a quiet rise and fall of his chest that reverberates through the sofa cushions. He keeps scrolling,eventually landing on The Princess Bride. “This seems like a safe choice. Everybody loves this movie.”
“Agreed,” I nod.
He fires it up, and we both settle into our respective corners of the couch.
A while later, I wake up just in time for the fairy tale kiss and the final scene. I’m curled into the smallest possible version of myself, cocooned in the soft blanket with my head propped up on the arm rest of the sofa. Slowly, I sit up and take in my surroundings. The end credits begin scrolling across the screen, while Ethan is sprawled out on the opposite side of the sofa with his head tilted backwards and his feet propped up on the coffee table.
“Ethan,” I whisper.
He doesn’t move.
I say his name again, at full volume this time. “Ethan, wake up.”
Still nothing.
Shucking the blanket off, I reach over and lay my palm on his shoulder, giving it a gentle shake. His eyelids slowly peel apart. He stares straight ahead at the TV for a second then looks over at me. His eyes are hazy and unfocused. His features are relaxed, and his hair is still infuriatingly perfect.
“What time is it?” he asks in a gravelly voice.
“I don’t know, but the movie’s over. I’m going to bed.”
He nods and slowly pulls himself up into a sitting position. “Yeah, me too.”
“Okay,” I say, standing up and reaching for my e-reader. “Good night then.”
“Good night, Margot. Enjoy your alien porn.”
4
Ethan
Margot sits at the kitchen counter, laughing as I attempt to revive an omelet that clearly wants to be scrambled eggs.
“I can save it,” I say, gently scooting the eggs around in the pan.
Margot takes a bite of her own omelet, which came out perfectly, and rolls her eyes at me.
Finally, I relent, sighing as I drive the spatula into the center of the omelet and start scrambling. It’s not that I mind scrambled eggs; it’s just a matter of pride at this point.
As I’m turning off the stove and plating my food, a text alert chimes on my phone, which my Bluetooth speaker reads aloud in a robotic tone:New house just hit the market. It checks all your boxes, but it’s going to sell quickly. Call me when you get this.