Then she turns to Ethan.
“Mr. Holt? Perhaps you should join us. I have a feeling this might have something to do with you.”
Ethan tenses his jaw and unfurls himself from his chair. As he slings his backpack onto his shoulder and walks over, goose bumps prickle my skin.
“Now,” Erika says when he’s standing as far from me as he can without making me look like a plague carrier, “why exactly can’t you work in the group to which you’ve been assigned, Miss Taylor?”
She knows, yet she wants me to say it. In front of him. Sometimes, I think she enjoys watching us squirm.
“I just don’t think me and…” I can’t say his name. If I say it, both he and Erika will see how not over him I am. “I don’t think having both of us in a group would be very fair to other members. There would be … tension.”
Erika looks between us. I don’t look at Holt, but I sense his frown.
“Mr. Holt? Do you agree?”
“Yes. There would definitely be tension.”
“So, you both expect me to give you preferential treatment because working together would be uncomfortable?”
Neither of us answers. That’s exactly what we expect, but saying so would make us seem like selfish assholes.
Erika sighs. “I want to make it clear that during your careers, you’ll have to work with many people you don’t like. People you’d rather avoid. But you can’t run away every time things become difficult. Plus, you’re asking me to give you special treatment simply because you’re no longer dating. If I do this for you, I’ll be setting a precedent that will quickly become a major pain in my ass.”
I know what she’s saying is true, but I still want her to do it.
Ethan and I say nothing. Our silent pleading speaks volumes.
Erika sighs again. “Because of the mix of characters I’ve assigned within each group, the only person I could swap Mr. Holt with would be Mr. Bain.” Ethan tenses. “Would that be acceptable to both of you?”
Ethan asks, “What kind of scenes are we doing?”
Erika’s onto him. “Does it matter? Either you want to stay in Miss Taylor’s group or swap with Connor. What will it be?”
I say, “Swap,” at exactly the same time Ethan says, “Stay.” Then to make sure we truly embarrassed ourselves, we do it again, louder.
Ethan and I stare each other down. It’s the first time we’ve really looked at each other in the past eight and a half weeks. My face and body flush with fierce heat.
It doesn’t escape my attention that Ethan’s ears have also gone bright pink.
“Fine. Whatever,” he says, waving his hand. “Swap me with Connor. Do whatever she wants.”
“Oh, no, by all means, keep Holt in my group. What he wants is far more important.”
“I don’t want this,” he says as he steps closer, “but we both know it’s for the best.”
“Are we still talking about the acting groups? Because if not, I know no such thing.”
Erika rolls her eyes and grabs her folder off the desk. “I don’t have time for this. Give me your decision by the end of today, or the groups stand, unchanged.”
Ethan and I are too busy fuming to even notice her leaving.
He’s too close. My body’s involuntary craving to touch him makes me even angrier.
“Just take the swap, Ethan. You know we can’t work together.”
“Yeah, and it’s real convenient you get to work with Connor instead.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Like you have no clue. Tell me, how long did he wait to hit on you after he found out we’d broken up? Every time I see him, he’s all over you.”
“Connor’s a friend. That’s all. Unlike other people, he actually cares about me.”
“Bullshit. He cares about the possibility of you riding his cock. You’re just too naive to see it.”
“Whatever he cares about is none of your business! You broke up with me, remember? Just because you don’t want me doesn’t mean other men don’t.”
His expression clouds over, and his voice drops to a harsh whisper. “My breaking up with you had nothing to do with how much I wanted you. You know that.”
“You said that you loved me, then you dumped me. Even to a crazy person, that seems nuts.”
I guess this is the part where we fight about our breakup. I’d predicted it would have happened sooner, but I’m ready to come out, guns a-blazing.
“Just admit you broke up with me to protect yourself, Ethan. End of story.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it. If we’d stayed together, I would’ve hurt you—”
“News flash! You hurt me anyway!”
“I would have hurt you more!”
“So you broke up in the hopes that we could have a chance at being friends, and yet this is the first time we’ve said two words to each other in over two months.”
He lets out a bitter laugh. “We can’t handle being friends.”
“There you go again, making assumptions about what I can and can’t handle.”
“Oh, really? You think you could deal with us getting close again? Fine. Let’s workshop that.”