Page 86 of Mountain Grump
“Usually.” Ethan says it so blandly that I have to smile. “But what precisely are you referring to?”
“My standards.” I shrug, keeping my eyes on the mountains. “Pretty sure my expectations aren’t just low. They’re lying on the floor.”
It stings a little to admit it, but it’s the truth.
Ethan doesn’t reply. And when I glance over, I think I see his jaw tick.
Then I realize that might’ve come off as insulting.
“Oh, um, not you. I don’t just mean our… Well… You know.” I struggle to find the right words.
I like Ethan as a whole. But now my cheeks are getting hot as I think about the last time I saw him, when he made me come just by grinding on me.
That wasn’t below average.
That was an A-plus experience.
“Do you have an ex-boyfriend I need to kill?” Ethan’s tone is angry.
“Huh?” I’m back to looking at him. “Why would you…?”
“Your expectations on the floor. Did someone hurt you?”
My face scrunches up. “What? No. It’s not—” I try to think of the best way to explain myself. “I wasn’t referring to any of my exes. Of which there are few. It’s my family that sucks. Not likehitting mesucks. They just… suck.”
Nerves, ones that have nothing to do with flying, crawl across my skin as I think about the people waiting for me on the other end of this flight.
I try to slide my hand free from Ethan’s, but he tightens his grip.
“The first time we met, you asked me if I was going to shoot you. You asked if your cousin sent me.”
I grimace. “That may have been an overreaction.”
“Most people don’t assume a relative is trying to kill them for no reason.”
I let the warmth of his hand comfort me against the unpleasant memories. “He’s all bark.”
“But…” Ethan prompts, knowing there’s more.
I shrug. “But… he also told me he was going to kill me the last time I saw him. So when you show up, out of the freaking woods, with a gun, on the day I move in… I may have overacted.”
“What were his exact words?” Ethan ignores the part about him coming out of the forest.
I’ve never told anyone this story.
Telling my mom or anyone else in my family would be pointless.
I had some friends, but they were all people I knew through work, and I didn’t want to involve them in my emotionally abusive trauma.
But with Ethan… “Honestly, I couldn’t tell you why I was even at this family event. I hated going to them. It was just… easier to go than deal with the harassment of not going.”
It’s an uncomfortable truth. And all the more reason to be grateful to Uncle Jack for my new house. My escape.
Ethan’s thumb rubs a calming line against my hand. “I get it. But now you never have to choose between the two.”
I swallow against his understanding, glad that I’m finally sharing this. “We were at his mom’s place, my Aunt Gunnie’s. In early April for our grandma’s birthday. She’s Uncle Jack’s sister. Orwas, I guess. But they didn’t get along. I don’t think Uncle Jack liked anyone but me. And I don’t mean that in a bragging sort of way. He and I… we aren’t filled with spite and entitlement like the rest of them. Really, I don’t know why they’re all so nasty.”
A weight shaped like disappointment settles on my chest.
