Three months together had flown by in a rush.
It was good-morning and good-night texts, bleacher seats for home games and pancakes on Sundays. It was listening to Ethan grumble about grading narrative comments one night and recounting why bee shortages were so disastrous the next. Of him slowly working out when Indy would welcome the distraction of his talented fingers and when to leave her in her bubble and not talk to her, please.
Where Indy fumbled on blanket days, leaving Ethan on read until she could type something and not delete it for fear of bothering him. Of learning he really would answer her call at any time, and no matter how often she checked, he always looked at her with the same warm, fond smile.
Three months where he didn’t get sick of her, even when they disagreed over a foul or when Indy fell asleep with the start screen on. Three months of Indy never tiring of Ethan at all, despite his refusal to change basketball teams or remember where the bottle opener was.
Kisses. Curling up on his right side to read because it was more comfortable than his left. Learning that his ribs were ticklish but not his feet, and he always smelled better after a climb, when the mix of sun and earth and sweat made him come alive.
Someone to listen when she panicked at nine p.m. that she wouldn’t get another book deal and celebrate with her two days later when the contract came through.
Even after dating for three months, Indy could barely stand to be near him without kissing him. Yesterday, he’d had the audacity to roll up his sleeves. His. Sleeves. The sight of his forearms had rendered her mute for a solid minute before she’d crossed the floor and fallen to her knees.
Ethan had only been a little late that morning.
Evidence of her mingled with Ethan’s things. Notebooks he’d gifted her that were too pretty to use, despite how much he teased her about it. A stack of hardback novels on his coffee table, colored tabs that she’d borrowed from his collection poking out of their pages. A Rebels cap she had left on purpose to remind him of her superior taste in teams.
And her apartment was the same, littered with reminders of Ethan.
They were there now, curled up on her couch together, Ethan’s brow furrowed as he read over a recent report from the school board. Preoccupied, giving her the chance to just look. His hair was messy from sleep and his glasses were slightly askew, a shadow taking up residence across his jaw.
He was still the sexiest damn thing Indy had ever seen.
These were her favorite moments. Sasha had run off to deal with an emergency that morning (which could honestly be anything fromI am not wearing that, tothe playhouse is on fire, so I should go), so it was just the two of them, quietly coexisting with nowhere to be except where they were.
A replay of last night’s game passed by on mute, forgotten as they each worked. There was nothing particularly special about the moment except that it was perfectly mundane.
Beside her, Ethan yawned and adjusted his glasses, and Indy couldn’t hold the words back if she tried.
“I love you,” she said, waiting for his reaction.
He blinked, hummed. Nothing.
“I love you,” she tried again.
“Sounds good,” Ethan said, distracted, and Indy was filled with so much joy she had to pull his sweatshirt over her mouth. “Get two.”
Oh Christ, she loved him so much.
In seconds, it became too much. Her chest shook with laughter, the movement finally jostling his attention away from his report.
“Indy?”
She pounced, capturing his mouth, not caring when she heard her phone hit the floor. If he wasn’t going to listen, she would show him how she felt instead.
“Interesting report?” she asked when she finally pulled back to breathe, enjoying his wet lips and dazed look. She did that. “You’ve been very distracted.”
Ethan sighed and removed his glasses. “Sorry, did I miss anything? Did you sort out the plot hole in the second act?”
“Let’s see…” Her giddiness lit her up inside. “What was I saying…?” She kissed the corner of his mouth, the mark his glasses left on the bridge of his nose, the curve of his jaw, taking her time. Below her, Ethan sank back into the couch, the tension easing out of him the way it always seemed to when her attention was focused on him.
“Oh yes, I remember.” Indy leaned back, looking at him straight on, sure that her feelings were evident on her face. “I love you.”
Nothing would ever look so good to her as watching the words play over Ethan’s expression.
He smiled slowly. Like he knew.
Like he had been waiting for it.