Page 104 of Every Beautiful Mile

I squint at the bright morning light as I point my toes to stretch my legs with a groan. I’m on the couch.

Ethan stayed here.

I scramble to stand, and my eyes dart around the living room.

“Ethan?” I call.

His name echoes through the quiet house.

I jog to every room, pushing open doors and calling his name.

In the middle of the kitchen, I know I’m alone.

The dappling light that trickles between outside branches and through the windows is the only movement in the house.

He left.

Without saying goodbye.

Again.

The realization hollows me out. I close my eyes and try to piece it all together. We sat on the couch for hours.

“Is your dad any closer to localizing the menu at the Crow’s Nest?” he asked.

I laughed. “My dad gets these ideas sometimes. Who knows?”

“Who takes care of the bar while you’re gone all summer?” he asked.

“Nobody gets behind my bar unless I teach them.” I shrugged. “The bartenders can handle it.”

“That confident, huh?”

I nodded. “I like making drinks, but I love teaching others how to do it.” I paused. “I might even be decent at it.”

“You taught me to make one—you’re better than decent,” he said with a smile.

Then we turned on the TV, the cooking channel, and Ethan criticized every chef on there.

When he yelled, "What the hell are you doing with all that vinegar?" I couldn’t contain my laugh.

I was already in my sleepshirt when he yawned.

“Stay,” I said.

Then I climbed on him and kissed him as I ran my fingers through his thick, dark hair.

“I thought you said no funny business.” He was smug.

“I’m not being funny,” I said into his mouth.

But it didn’t go any further. I laid my head on his lap, where I must have fallen asleep.

Did he leave then?

No.

I woke up in the middle of the night with his arms around me and thought how right it felt. I watched him sleep, listening to the rhythm of his breath, and felt the cadence of his heart before falling back to sleep.

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