For all the time I’ve spent wishing for peace and quiet, for an empty house, just for a day or even a few hours in my room alone without my siblings knocking on my door to pester me, I’ve missed them since I've been away.
Turning the oven on to pre-heat, I place the chipped potatoes into a pot to par-boil before showing Ethan how to season the steaks with plenty of salt, pepper, and rosemary.
“What inspired your road trip then?” Ethan asks once the potatoes are in the oven.
“My mum, actually. She made this same trip pretty much when she was my age, and I think I had some grand idea that it would make me feel more connected to her or somethin'.”
“I get that. Has it?” he asks. No judgement lacing his voice, only curiosity. I guess someone who lost his dad and now runs the business he left behind probably understands better than most.
“In some ways. I’ve had times where I’ve felt like I got to share moments with her. But I think I could travel the whole world to try and fill my soul with experiences, and the hole she left behind would still be there. I think I’m comin' to terms with it, though. It’s one of those wounds you learn to live with.”
Ethan doesn’t reply; he just nods his head and gives me a sad smile that tells me he knows exactly what I’m talking about.
“This is amazing,” he says when we sit down and tuck into dinner.
“That would be more of a compliment if you hadn’t already told me your diet mostly consists of packet ramen,” I reply, eyebrow raised.
“Do you like compliments?” he asks, his piercing stare not breaking eye contact. I squirm slightly in my seat and feel the blush spreading across my cheeks.
“Who doesn’t like compliments?”
He laughs at that, and the sound fills my chest with warmth. This beautiful man is so far out of my league, yet he’s definitely flirting with me. His eyes dance like he’s genuinely happy. Like a simple meal withme, somehow made his day.
After we finish eating, Ethan insists on helping me with the washing up. It’s all very domestic. When he flicks some soap bubbles onto my face, I wind the dish towel up and whip him on the arse with it, making him yelp.
“Damn, you have a mean streak,” he says, laughing.
“I have a little brother who I’m not allowed to hurt, so I learned to choose my weapons wisely,” I tell him, returning to drying a plate with the towel.
It’s late now, and we’re both on our last beers, sitting on the settee and chatting. At some point in the conversation, he rested his legs over mine, and eventually, I plucked up the courage to rest my hand on his shin. I brave running my hand lower, my fingertips slipping under the hem of his jeans so we're skin to skin, and I stroke my thumb over his fluffy blonde hairs every now and again. I’m very conscious of every single point of contact where his skin is touching mine, and the weight of his legs on my lap feels good. Like I’m getting a little preview of what my life with a partner could be like in the future.
“I should get going,” Ethan finally says. “I have a group of kids for a lesson early tomorrow.” He sounds almost regretful, and that makes me happier than it probably ought to.
Getting up off the settee, he stretches his arms out, causing his shirt to ride up and reveal a sliver of golden skin across his toned stomach. He catches me looking but doesn’t say anything, merely smirking knowingly. I follow him to the door, where he puts his shoes on and turns to face me.
“I had a really great time tonight. Thank you for showing me how to cook a meal.” He smiles.
“You’re welcome. Thank you for teachin' me how to surf.” My heart is beating fiercely in my chest, and I’m not sure why. Anticipation maybe? But I’m not sure for what. I might never see Ethan again.
Ethan's gaze flicks from my eyes to my mouth and back again a few times, making my stomach swoop. I lean forward slightly without even thinking, and that seems to be all the confirmation he was looking for. Reaching up, he palms my cheek with one hand and pulls my face down to his.
When his lips press against mine, it’s like an out-of-body experience. I close my eyes and reach for him, a hand on his neck, my thumb under his chin to tilt his face just right. A small whimper escapes his lips, and suddenly, I’m a blazing hot forest fire. His lips part as my tongue seeks his out, and my skin tingles all over.
I’ve never had a kiss like this before. The kind of kiss that feels like fireworks going off in your head, the bangs and pops so loud you can’t even think.
Without realising, I’ve backed him into the door and my body is pressed against his. He’s hard. And I’mveryhard. We kiss until we’re both panting and gasping for breath. When I pull away, his lips are rosey, swollen and spit-slick.
“Fuck. I really do need to go,” he says, and I just nod dumbly. “How much longer are you here for?”
“In Oregon? A couple more days.”
“You left your number on the waiver form. I’m gonna text you tomorrow. Alright?”
“Very, very, alright.” He smiles and reaches to kiss me again, quickly this time, before shaking his head and opening the door.
“Bye, Ethan,” I say quietly as I watch him walk down the hall. When I close the door, I lean against it and breathe deeply, pressing my fingertips to my tingling lips and smile.
I wake up to a text from Ethan.
