“Okay. You’ve had enough time to think about it. Whattaya got?”
Ethan took a long moment before he answered. He moved his arm from around her shoulders down to her waist, pressing her closer against him. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, nuzzling her face deep into the crook of his shoulder. Though the gesture aroused him, naturally, it made him feel something else, too. Brave.
“When I was growing up, things were…not great. At home. I spent a lot of time at…at Sam’s. With his family. There were times when I basically lived at his house. For months.”
He hesitated. Grey gave a little murmur of sympathy, her lips brushing his neck. He gave her thigh a firm squeeze before continuing.
“One summer—I think I was twelve? Thirteen? Some cousin let his family use their beach house in Cape May, and I went with them. We were there for two weeks. Sam and I would take our bikes out every morning and be gone all day, out on the beach, on the boardwalk. We’d come back to the house and his dad would be grilling. We’d watch movies, make fires on the beach, look at the stars. It was just…peaceful. I knew everything was going to be okay. Everything at home…it didn’t matter. Nothing else felt real.”
He felt Grey smile against his neck.
“How wholesome.”
“Did I mention I also got to second base for the first time? Under the boardwalk.”
“That’s very Grease of you. Don’t tell me you also stayed out till ten o’clock.”
Laughing, Ethan flipped Grey off his lap and onto her back, pinning her underneath him. She giggled and fidgeted a little, but didn’t fight him.
“So that’s what I get for trusting you with my most intimate, personal memories. I see how it is.”
She looked up at him innocently. “What do I get?”
He dipped his head down to kiss her, sliding his tongue past her lips, which yielded to him instantly. She sighed a little in the back of her throat, and tangled her hands in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper. That tiny noise was enough to drive him crazy. He slipped his hands inside her robe, running his hands over her satin skin.
Something pulled at the back of his mind, and he lifted his head again. Grey whimpered a little in protest.
“We’re not done yet. You said it was a two-part question.”
Grey threw her head back and half laughed, half groaned in frustration. She scooted out from under him and propped herself up against the headboard. He rested his head in her lap, her fingers automatically moving to caress his hair, her nails tracing gentle circles on his scalp.
“What’s part two?” he prodded, trying not to let himself get distracted by the pleasurable tingles her fingers were sending down his spine.
She looked down at him, her mouth twisted. “What do you think?” she asked softly.
He closed his eyes.
“Worst memory.”
She didn’t respond for a moment, just kept at him with those hypnotizing circles.
“We don’t have to. We can just leave it.”
He shook his head.
“No. I want to. But…you go first.”
She sighed. He kept his eyes closed.
“Probably finding out about my…about Callum. It wasn’t just the cheating. It was that everyone knew before I did. Then the tabloids picked it up…the whole thing was so humiliating.”
He reached up and squeezed her thigh in sympathy.
“How long were you together?”
“Four years.”
“What a fucking asshole. And everything was fine before then? Blissfully in love? Birds appearing every time he was near?” He kept his tone light, trying to mask how curious he was to hear the answer.
She hesitated. When she spoke again, her voice was dreamy and contemplative. “I don’t know. I thought so at the time. The betrayal was worse than the heartbreak, honestly. Looking back, I don’t think either of us was ever that emotionally invested in it. Working together…it was just so convenient. It felt like the kind of relationship I was supposed to want to be in, the kind of person I was supposed to want to be with. But we never really talked about anything important. Sometimes he would say these things out of nowhere where I’d be like…what? Who are you? Do we even know each other at all? But I always just…ignored it. I think we were both happier keeping things surface level.”
“Like what kind of things would he say?”
“Oh, I don’t know. There were a few offhand comments here and there that made me think that he might possibly be…” She paused before lowering her voice. He could tell she was trying not to laugh. “…a flat earther.”
Ethan burst out laughing. “You dated a guy who thought the Earth was flat, for four years?”
“For four years. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. We were even talking about getting engaged for half of it. I should’ve known it was never going to happen if we needed to spend that much time discussing it.”
“You dodged a bullet, though. Nora and I got engaged after a month. We probably could’ve used a little more talking first.”
She laughed, his head vibrating on her lap.
“Would you ever do it again? Get married, I mean.” She paused. “You know. Just in case she asks. For the article.”
He surprised himself with how easily the answer came to him. “Yeah. I would. I loved being married. Can’t say I recommend divorce, though. I’d like to only do that once, if possible.”
He’d barely even admitted that to himself before. His thoughts about his romantic future were typically limited to ensuring no one else would be put through the gauntlet of being with him. But now, after the seamless intimacy of these past few days with her—maybe this was something he would want again. One day. In theory.
She was silent. She stopped making circles with her fingers and moved on to stroking his hair.
“It’s funny,” he said. He felt her shift, tense.
“What?”
“Your best memory is about work, and your worst memory is about love. That explains a lot about you.”
“Well, I turned down a movie to have the privilege of finding out I was being cheated on, so it’s still sort of work related. And also…” She hesitated. “The Sister Switch wasn’t all good, either.”
He opened his eyes, looking up at her.
“What happened?”
She shook her head a little. “Never mind. It’s stupid.”
“Tell me.”
She exhaled. “They flew me out to L.A. for the premiere. I was so fucking excited I couldn’t sleep the night before. But when the movie started…I don’t know if I can explain it. I mean, I knew I wouldn’t actually be in it. But it felt like everything I had worked on, everything I was so proud of, had been erased. Or never even existed in the first place. I don’t know. It feels silly saying it out loud. I was just a kid; I couldn’t really wrap my head around it. I had to go into the lobby and cry.”
Ethan took her hand out of his hair and kissed her palm. His heart broke for tiny Grey—or rather, tiny Emily—for her hard work, for her big dreams that would never come to pass.
“It’s not silly. It makes total sense.”
“It all ended up being okay. Carol, the director—you know Carol Hayes?—she came out to comfort me. She got it right away. She told me that even though my face wasn’t on-screen, I was there in Morgan’s performance, in her reactions. Her physicality. Some of her line readings, even. We created those characters together. She told me they could never have done it without me.” She bit her lip. “It was exactly what I needed to hear.”
He didn’t say anything, just kept holding her hand. She shifted, suddenly a little uncomfortable.
“That’s enough about me.” She looked down at him, her eyes seeming to bore straight through him. “Do you want to tell me about Sam?”
Her directness shook him, but not as much as the realization that he did, in fact, want to tell her. He’d barely talked about it with anyone, now that he thought about it. Nora had begged him at first; to talk to her, to anyone, but he had stonewalled her. Eventually she’d given up. After that, there had been no one left to beg him.