Page 89 of Sliding Into Love
“I’d rather have your real name, too,” Ivy muttered absently, belatedly hearing the implication of her words, and wondering if Ethan had too.
He blinked down at her from his absurd height, and she dimpled up at him before sticking her finger in the sauce and bringing it to her mouth to taste it.
“Have you talked to Harkness about changing it? Do your teammates know?”
“Just Derek, Isaac, and Jen.” Ethan gently flattened the dough on the pizza stone, smoothing the bumpy edges and pressing out air bubbles.
“Do you think Harkness would let you change it?” She broke a piece off the ball of artisanal mozzarella and popped it in her mouth.
“Probably,” Ethan replied, “but do you think it’s a good idea in the middle of the season?” Ethan handed her another bite of the cheese before moving it to the opposite side of the stove so there would besomeleft for the pizza.
“Do you think anyone will care?” Ethan cocked an eyebrow at her. “I don’t mean it in a bad way. Just…you’ve earned your place, and you put up with all the shit from Marshall for so long. Do you think anyone will begrudge you the right to your name?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s something I hadn’t thought about until recently.” He finished arranging the third and final circle of dough on a stone. “Ready to build these?”
“Yes! I’ve never done this before.” She slid off the counter. He dropped an apron over her head, tying it at her waist. “What do I do?”
Together, they built their pizzas, and while they baked, Ethan and Ivy sat on his couch, flipping through his Netflix queue. It occurred to Ivy that in their time together, they’d never hung out and watched tv, and she watched him as she slid the remote from his hand, clicking through his recently watched videos.
“You can learn a lot about a person from their watching habits,” Ivy said mock-seriously.
Ethan scoffed.
“Not from mine.” He sighed, not looking at her. “I never had time to do the things I enjoyed. And I guess I was so tired and… it got to the point of never enjoying anything, so it felt pointless to do…anything.” He offered that truth so succinctly that Ivy didn’t catch his meaning at first.
Ivy looked at him for a moment, an ache forming in her chest at how broken he must have been.
“Well, that’s completely idiotic. I am an expert on Netflix. What do you like? Comedy? Drama? Horror? Anime?”
“I don’t know?” He offered the words as if in question. “It’s been a long time.”
Ivy took it as a personal challenge.
“Good. We’re going to watcheverything.”
“Everything?” Ethan sounded skeptical.
“Yes, everything.”
“Sounds like it’ll take a while.” Then, he sounded hopeful, if uncertain.
“Yep. Let’s start with this one.” She clicked over to the bright yellow icon of The Good Place. “Pure comedic brilliance, with a moral to boot.” Looking over her shoulder to the kitchen, she called, “We need nachos.”
“We’re making pizza.” Ethan chuckled.
“Oh, I know.” Ivy pointed the remote at him. “But we need nachos.”
“We didn’t buy tortilla chips.”
Ivy sighed long-sufferingly.
“We just had sex, now we need nachos. Trust me, it’s the best. Make a list. After pizza, we’re going shopping again. This time, I’m taking the lead.”
“Didn’t you take the lead last time?”
“Yeah, but we didn’t getsnacks. It’sdifferent.”
Ivy’s methodof wandering aimlessly was fun until it grew exhausting, but Ethan patiently wandered back and forth with her as their cart grew ever heavier. He enjoyed her enthusiasm at picking out junk food, even if she did wander around like a lost little kid on a sugar high.
