I cringe and laugh. “Sort of cheesy, but applicable.”
The next kiss lands right below my ear. I shiver as the cold evening air washes away the warmth of his lips. Then his mouth hovers by my ear, breath dancing along my skin.
“Girlfriend.”
My heart slams into my sternum and my breath catches. The word sounds so foreign in Ethan’s voice. It feels like something to be cherished—cozy, warm, and dreamy. Like a childish doodle scribbled straight on my heart. It’s sweeping pleasure and crushing pain all at once, wondering if Ethan is asking or teasing me.
He wouldn’t tease. Not about that…
Ethan North is many things, but he’s not careless with my heart (even if I’ve been a little careless with it myself lately).
Pulling back slightly, he cups my face, staring down at me to examine my reaction. “Margot, if anyone needs to recalibrate their expectations, it’s me. I know I asked for your time and patience, and you’ve given me more of both than I deserve. I just need you to know that I haven’t wasted that time. I’ve spent every second of it thinking of you, realizing that this is so much more than I bargained for. You’re not Juliette. You’re not any of those other women. You’re so much more to me, and I’m sorry that I ever let you doubt that. The truth is that it’s hard to label what we are because you’re everything to me and there isn’t a single word in the English language that encompasses the way I feel about you, but the one that comes closest is love.”
Stunned, I’m frozen in place. “Are you saying…”
Ethan nods. “I’m saying that I’m falling for you. I have been for a while, but I needed some time to figure my own shit out.”
It’s like my entire body just remembered what it was capable of wanting, and it aches deliciously for it. For him. Warmth radiates through my body as a smile spreads across my face.
“I’m falling for you too,” I admit.
Ethan’s smile is sudden, unfiltered. Then he’s picking me up and carrying me inside the house. We only make it to the living room (the first one) before he’s inside me. Tonight, there’s no roleplaying, no pretending to be anyone else. We’re just ourselves—a couple falling in love, and it’s my favorite role so far.
24
Ethan
Iwas an idiot. I realize that now.
I tried to make rules and create boundaries, all to protect Margot’s heart. But in the end, I was the one who couldn’t stick to the rules. Every moment I spent with Margot—every smile, every laugh, every touch—made me fall a little harder. Then one day (Thursday, to be exact), I woke up and realized that I’m falling in love with her. The only thing standing in the way was my own stupidity and selfishness. It wasn’t Margot’s heart that I was protecting; it was my own.
I have no reason to doubt my feelings for her. It’s not like this is some woman I met a week ago on Sip; this is Margot, who I’ve known and admired for two years. Things have always been easy between us. There’s no reason to overcomplicate them now.
Still, there are things we need to discuss. Rachel and Sophia are at the top of that list, along with disclosing our relationship to HR. But right now, we’re easing into our new normal together.
Apparently, this new normal includes looking at apartments for Margot.
Part of me thinks it’s a waste of time. She could just move in with me. We spend every night together anyway.
Another part of me thinks it’s crazy to even consider moving in together right now. We need to take things slow. Going all in from the start is what got me in trouble last time.
The parallels between Margot and Rachel are not lost on me. Both started out as favors. Both were supposed to be fake. But things with Margot feel so different than they did with Rachel. With Margot, I don’t have to force anything. I don’t have to try to make myself feel something that simply isn’t there. With her, it’s easy, comfortable, consuming. I don’t doubt my feelings for Margot, or hers for me.
“Here it is,” the leasing agent says as she unlocks the door and leads us into the empty apartment.
Margot steps inside, and her face falls. The walls are more scuffs than paint, and the carpet looks like it’s twenty years old. Then there’s the smell—musty, faintly sweet, and all too familiar. My stomach lurches while the rest of my body tenses.
The leasing agent begins her well-rehearsed speech. “This is our one bed, one bath model. It has plenty of storage space…”
“And a roach problem,” I interject.
The woman blinks at me, straightening her blazer like she’s putting on armor. “Pest control is a top priority to our management team. A professional service sprays the entire property every two weeks with an environmentally friendly, green-certified pesticide.”
Well, at least she’s not denying it, just talking around the actual point.
“Thank you for your time,” I tell her. “We’ll continue our search elsewhere.”
Confusion flashes over Margot’s face as she glances at me then at the leasing agent. She forces a quick, polite smile and utters an unnecessary apology before following me out of the apartment.I just can’t be in there with that smell, and Margotdefinitelycannot live there.