Page 39 of It Has To Be You

Ethan placed their empty dishes in the sink. “And what do I get in return?”

Indy gulped. “What do you want?”

Her toes curled when he smiled a wicked smile. “I think you know what I want, Indy.”

Her heart was on a trip wire. “Oh?”

Ethan’s muscles flexed as he settled beside her. That shirt should win a medal for not ripping. “How did you put it? I show you mine…” As a hot flush rose to her face, he softened. “I’ll answer honestly if you do. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten how you dodged it the last time I asked.”

She tucked herself a little deeper into his sweatshirt, breathing in the faint smell of chalk and his woodsy cologne. Ethan was safe. He’d already seen her post-meltdown; he wouldn’t judge her for a few irrational pet peeves.

“I don’t like choose-your-own-adventure books because I prefer linear storytelling. People who stare. Lions fans—”

Ethan tossed his head back and laughed.

“People who bash video games, toxic positivity, people who don’t say what they mean, ads that are too loud, rooms that are too quiet, people who whisper, the smell of yogurt. And those puzzle games that have a ball rattling around inside, because they sound like they’re broken, and it bothers me that you can’t get the ball out.” Her leg had started bouncing somewhere in the middle. Indy willed it to stop and slid deeper into the comfort of Ethan’s clothes. “Now you.”

“Okay,” he said, counting them off on his fingers. “Parents who are too hard on their kids, parents who don’t listen, parents who don’t care, self-serving people, the amount of waste that is generated by packaging, scissors that don’t cut, permanent markers that look like whiteboard markers, whiteboard markers that smudge easily, detergents that lie about getting stains out, how hard it is to find a decent pair of jeans, the shit show that is school funding, capitalism disguised as kids programs… Satisfied? Or should I keep going?”

“I’m satisfied.” Lies. She was starting to suspect she’d never get her fill of him.

* * *

“I need you,” he said, returning to the couch, his voice low. “But you have to make a choice.”

Indy fought off a shiver and cursed the late-night fantasy that played in her mind. In an attempt to speak, she let out a kind of squeak.

It was mortifying, but Ethan only smiled wider.

He raised his hands.

“Scissors or glue?”

Oh.

“Glue.” There was no way she was steady enough to handle a sharp object right now. “What are we making?”

“Dinosaurs. We’re studying fossils, so I want to give them a reference point. Plus, it’s fun,” he said with a wink.

“Only sometimes. I tried readingThe Lost Worldand couldn’t sleep for a week. I kept picturing a T-Rex at the end of my bed.”

He laughed. “Raptor under the bed for me.”

“Okay, you win. That’s worse.”

His shoulder met hers as he leaned in. “Oh, do I win a prize?”

It was a miracle the couch wasn’t on fire, because Indy was aflame.

Suddenly, there was nothing more interesting than the purple glue stick in her hands. Nontoxic, of course. Very important. “Yes, you get the pleasure of my company.”

“I think you’ll find the pleasure is all mine,” he said.

Indy was grateful the sweatshirt hid her goose bumps.

* * *

They fell into a comfortable silence, Ethan cutting shapes and passing them to her, Indy gluing them where he pointed. All the while, she found her attention locked almost solely on him.

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