Page 30 of One Touch

“Awesome!” I held out a hand. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging!”

The feeling of her small hand slapping mine in a high-five was indescribably satisfying.

Just then, Ida arrived, arms laden with books. “Okay, so it turns out, I am going to need your help because I’ve picked out way more than ten books.”

***

I was nervous about meeting with Ethan again—of course I was. I’d barely recovered from the last time.

But I had to go see him. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Ava all day long.

Seeing her standing in front of me, looking down at her shoes, nervous and ashamed, it all felt so familiar. Then, when I’d told her my story, the relief in her eyes had been wonderful to see. I could have probably gotten Ethan’s number from Elara, but I figured that news like this was best delivered in person.

Plus, there was no harm in seeing him again, right?

It would be easy. I’d say a few words, give him my recommendations, and then leave. I wouldn’t flirt, that was the key.

Ugh, but flirting was so much fun.

After trying on about twenty different outfits, I finally settled on a flowing, white maxi dress with a deep V-neck and loose, billowy sleeves. I cinched in the waist with a tan leather belt with intricate beadwork and wore a stack of colorful bracelets on one wrist and a pair of large gold hoop earrings that I hoped brought out the sparkle in my eyes. On my feet, I wore a pair of brown gladiator sandals, their straps winding elegantly up my calves. Obviously, the point of this outfit wasn’t to look sexy. Oh no, it was to lookinnocent. Like I was the kind of woman whowas coming to Ethan’s door for completely non-devious motives. Which, of course, I was.

Heart pounding, I walked to his house. He lived in a dreamy home on a bluff above the town. It was angular, gray, and serious, but also brooding and wild—oddly romantic in a way that reminded me of Heathcliff fromWuthering Heights. I walked up the path to the steel-gray front door, each step feeling like a mile. Raising my hand, I knocked, the sound echoing in the quiet evening air.

The door swung open, and there he was. To my surprise, he was wearing a full firefighter’s outfit. His dark hair, usually tousled and free, was hidden under the helmet. His muscular frame was encased in a bright yellow jacket. “Lily?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words caught in my throat. My gaze drifted to his lips, memories of our kiss flooding back. The way his mouth had moved against mine, the taste of him, the feel of his stubble beneath my fingertips. . . .

Ethan’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “Is everything okay?”

“You’re dressed as a firefighter,” I blurted out.

He clenched his jaw. “I’m aware. My gear came and Ava insisted on a fashion show.”

“You sure you’re not just wearing it alone for kicks?”

“You here to tease me about my dress sense?”

I shook my head. “Yes. I mean, no. I mean . . .” I took a deep breath. “I need to talk to you about Ava.”

Ethan’s brow furrowed, concern etched across his handsome features. Then, quietly, he said, “I meant what I said the other day—I think it’s for the be—”

“That’s not what this is about. Today, Ava and Ida came into the bookstore. While Ida was hunting down about a gazillion romance novels, I got chatting to Ava. She mentioned a few things to me.”

As I relayed our discussion, Ethan’s expression became more and more grim, until it almost looked as though he was in pain.

“I think Ava might have dyslexia,” I said eventually. “The way she reacts to reading, the reluctance, the avoidance . . . it’s all so similar to what I went through as a kid.”

Ethan took off the helmet and ran a hand through his hair. “How the hell did I miss this?”

“It’s not always easy to spot. Smart kids will do everything they can to hide it. Lord knows I did.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Sorry?”

“Sorry you had to hide it.”

I felt a kick of adrenaline. It felt so strange that he was apologizing to me.

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