Page 48 of Room for Us
I went back to watching Friends reruns, and a month later he served me divorce papers at work.
“You disappeared.”
My coffee sloshes as I turn fast toward the front door. Ethan’s smile begins hesitantly, but widens when I smile back. The past evaporates at the sight of him, sleepy-eyed and tousled, like he rolled out of bed and immediately went searching for me. I could stare at him for hours, counting tiny freckles, tracing muscle and sinew, memorizing the shape of his lips with mine… From the heat shimmering in his eyes, I think he’d let me. He might even give me a glimpse inside that bright, messy mind.
When his grin turns salacious, I summon my manners. “Good morning to you, too. How did you sleep?”
“Really good.” He yawns and stretches his arms overhead, spine bowing back. I ogle the several inches of taut stomach displayed when his shirt rises.
“You sound surprised,” I tease.
Bright eyes shift my way. “I am. I haven’t slept this well in years. Must be the mountain air.”
I nod sagely. “Must be.”
Gravel churns and we look toward the driveway, where a pickup truck makes its way toward us. A sea of green waves from the bed.
“That’s a lot of plants,” Ethan remarks.
“Sure is. Good thing I have a lot of dirt.”
I stand and hand him my coffee. He accepts it and sniffs it experimentally, then takes a sip. Like we aren’t near-strangers. Like we’ve been sharing mugs for years.
Chris didn’t like sharing his food or drinks with me. I can count on one hand how many times we shared a glass—usually by accident.
Ducking my head to hide my hot cheeks, I head down the steps to greet the driver. Celeste waves and throws the truck in park. She’s unfairly fresh and perky for the hour, like one of those commercials for Neutrogena where the women look ecstatic while dousing their faces with water. Who smiles with water in their eyes and up their nose?
Damien sits in the passenger seat, looking like he just woke up and would rather be doing anything else. Being that it’s eight on a Saturday morning, I don’t blame him.
“Hey, Zoey! I know I’m early, but I forgot about Damien’s soccer game this afternoon. I popped by your mom’s on the way over, too, so Zander is rounding up the troops. And I hope you don’t mind, but I invited a few more helpers. We’ll get this done in no time!”
Ah, small towns. Why call someone to let them know plans have changed when you can simply swing by with the news? And why ask before inviting one or ten more people?
I laugh, oddly comforted. “That’s great, thank you. It’s not a problem. Have you guys eaten breakfast? I was going to make pancakes.”
“Oh, don’t worry about feeding us. We brought some granola bars.”
Damien perks up. “Pancakes? Do you have chocolate chips?”
I grin at him. “Of course. Who doesn’t?”
He rips off his seat belt and jumps from the car. Celeste laughs and follows, and we walk together toward the house.
“You said the magic words,” she tells me. “Pancakes and chocolate.”
“It’s universal.”
“Are you sure your guest won’t mind us invading?”
That’s a damn good question. I look toward the front door, but Ethan is gone.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine with it,” I say, even as I realize how unsure I am.
When we near the kitchen, though, I have my answer in the form of a smell. Bacon. He must have run upstairs and changed, because he’s in jeans and a different shirt. He turns from the stove with a grin.
“Can’t have pancakes without bacon, right?”
“Right,” agrees Damien enthusiastically.
