Let's Be Just Friends

by Camilla Isley

  Ethan had picked her up in his black Mercedes thirty minutes after calling her. She’d barely had time to take a quick shower and get dressed before he’d arrived.

  “Are you sure this is within my budget?” she asked, eying the luxurious building.

  “The owner’s a good friend of mine, and he’s agreed to lower the price for a reliable, tidy tenant who won’t trash the place,” Ethan explained shrugging. “A lot of rich, spoiled frat boys want to live here, but they’re trying to keep them out of the building and make it more of an adult community.”

  “How do you know I’m not a crazy party girl?”

  “Are you?” Ethan called her bluff.

  “No,” she admitted, unsettled by the x-raying of his light blue eyes.

  “Shall we?” he asked, holding the door open for her.

  The apartment was perfect, just perfect. It was a spacious one-bedroom with one wall made entirely of floor-to-ceiling windows. The kitchen was ultra-modern, brand new, and had a huge island that overlooked the dining table and part of the living room. The bedroom was bigger than the one Rose was occupying now and had a walk-in closet. Even the bathroom was cozy with all-new counters and sinks, and furnished in a minimal style that suited the place. Both the furniture and walls were painted white with splashes of warm gray and wood accents.

  Compared to what was on Craigslist, this place was a palace. Rose could hardly believe her luck.

  “Do I take it we have a date?” Ethan asked when she was finished examining every inch of the apartment.

  “When can I move in?” she asked, beaming.

  “Next weekend. I’ll have you sign some papers, and it’s a done deal.”

  “You don’t need to check with the owner?”

  “Nah, I had you pre-approved.”

  “Confident, are we?”

  He smiled dashingly.

  “When do you want to go out?” Ethan asked once the paperwork was taken care of.

  “You’re the winner, you call the shots.”

  “Next Friday?”

  Something dangerous fluttered in Rose’s belly. “Next Friday it is,” she said.

  Fifteen

  Rose

  In the following days, Rose changed her mind about how she felt about going out with Ethan every other hour. At first, she’d be happy for the distraction. Then she’d get worried about getting into even bigger trouble. Ethan was another bad boy, possibly even worse than Tyler. Why couldn’t she find one of the good ones?

  Because you find them boring as hell, a nasty little voice replied in Rose’s head.

  When she was done worrying about how much Ethan might hurt her, guilt towards Tyler crept in, even though she knew she shouldn’t feel anything but anger about the situation. After all, Tyler was in Paris with his girlfriend. But her heart was stupid, and it kept telling Rose she was being disloyal. Once the guilt trip was over, Rose switched almost immediately to vindictiveness—of all the guys she could have gone out with, Ethan would definitely annoy Tyler the most.

  Not that he’d find out considering they barely talked these days. She’d emailed him once to say she was moving out, and that she’d check on his house every now and then, and pay the bills while he was in France. But Tyler hadn’t emailed her back, probably because he almost never checked his non-Harvard email account. And she was perfectly happy with him not knowing, at least for a while, until she had enough time to settle into her new place—and life, hopefully.

  Ethan was due to pick her up at 7:00 pm. It was 6:30, and Rose was already dressed. She had chosen her clothes for tonight well in advance as everything else was packed away in two huge suitcases for her big move tomorrow. She’d opted for a casual-chic style: a white neoprene quilted sweater over lightly faded ultra-skinny jeans and a pair of high-heeled nude pumps. In front of the mirror, Rose let her hair down and styled it in soft waves. As for makeup, she kept it simple: foundation, bronze blush, a double coat of mascara, and lip balm. Rose didn’t like to wear lipstick or lip-gloss at restaurants. She didn’t see the point when it would just end up on a napkin by the end of the night.

  At 6:55, the doorbell rang. Rose unhooked her black fur jacket from its hanger and hurried out of the house to meet Ethan.

  He drove to a fancy steak house for their first official date—he’d remembered meat was her favorite. She added one point for him in her mental scoreboard.

  “I wish I’d given in to Georgiana sooner,” Ethan said after they’d drunk their first glass of wine.

  “Meaning?” Rose asked, uneasy at the mention of Georgiana. She tried to store the notion of her being Ethan’s sister in a remote corner of her brain.

  “She’s been bugging me to go out with you for ages,” Ethan explained.

  “How nice of her to worry about me,” Rose said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. Anger at Georgiana’s scheming resurfaced immediately.

  “I don’t think she was being utterly altruistic,” Ethan said. He was direct; Rose liked it. “I guess she was jealous of you and Tyler living together.”

  Tyler’s name made Rose blush. She hoped the reaction wasn’t too obvious, even if Ethan’s attentive stare told her otherwise.

  “So what made you change your mind?” Rose asked, steering the conversation away from Tyler. She didn’t want to think about him tonight.

  “I met you,” Ethan said simply, holding her gaze.

  He meant it to be a charming statement, but suspicion flared in Rose’s chest at once. “So what is this?” She wiggled a finger between them. “A favor you’re doing your sister?”

  “Ah, no. Miss Atwood, your accusations wound me.”

  “Please be square with me.” Rose broke the courting act. She was tired of guys playing games. “Are you here only because Georgiana asked you?”

  Ethan’s ever-present lopsided smile disappeared. “I would never do that,” he said. “I’m here because I want to be. I’m here because the night I met you was the first night I’d had fun in forever. And because I hope that by the end of the night you’ll let me kiss you again.”

  “Okay.” Rose swallowed. When Ethan Smithson switched on the charm, he was impossible to resist. Maybe she really was jumping head first into bigger trouble. “Let’s not talk about other people then.”

  Ethan nodded just as the server was arriving to take their orders.

  The rest of the night passed in a blur of general getting-to-know-you talk. Rose found she was able to relax with Ethan; he had an easy way about things, quite the opposite of his snotty sister, and he made her laugh—a lot! He didn’t mention Tyler again during the dinner, much to Rose’s relief. Besides her asking, Rose suspected Ethan was avoiding the topic so as not to spoil their first date. Deep down, Rose feared the moment she’d have to come clean about her relationship with Tyler. If she wanted to keep seeing Ethan, she’d have to tell him the ugly truth eventually. How would Ethan react? Would he hate her for hurting his sister? Think of her as the other woman?

  When Ethan pulled up in front of Tyler’s house, Rose was surprised to see the clock of his car read 1:00 a.m.

  “Do you need any help with the big move tomorrow?” Ethan asked.

  “Yeah, sure, I’ll stick my humongous luggage in your spacious trunk,” she joked, wondering if his sports car even had a trunk.

  “I’ll have you know I’m also equipped with a pickup, Miss Atwood. It should be more than capable of hauling your humongous luggage.”

  She’d planned to call a cab, but the possibility of Ethan helping her was far more enticing.

  “Okay then. But only if you’ll let me buy you breakfast afterwards.”

  “Deal,” he said.

  “Should we shake on it?”

  “I have a better idea,” he said, and leaned in to kiss her.

  ***

  “You seem undecided,” Ethan said.

  They’d just finished moving Rose’s luggage into her new apartment, and Rose
was famished.

  “Well,” Rose said, shifting her gaze between the two sides of the road. “I love Starbucks’ coffee, but I prefer donuts from Dunkin’ Donuts.”

  All night she’d thought about Ethan. About their date the night before, the conversations they’d had, the occasional fluttering in her belly, and the kiss! Yesterday had been the first night Tyler had not haunted her dreams.

  “You get the coffee, and I’ll get the donuts,” Ethan proposed.

  “But breakfast was supposed to be on me!” Rose protested.

  He laughed. “So pay me back the two dollars the donuts will cost.”

  Rose smiled and gave in. “Okay. Let’s meet back here and we can eat in my new kitchen.”

  ***

  “Do you ever miss Texas?” Ethan asked her as they ate breakfast seated at Rose’s new table next to the wall-wide windows. Sunlight filtered through the glass, making her new apartment appear even brighter than when she’d seen it the first time.

  “Sometimes, but we moved here seven years ago, so now Boston feels like home too,” Rose said.

  “You keep saying we.”

  “Ah,” Rose said, embarrassed. “Bad habit.”

  “Any other bad habits I should know of?”

  Ethan’s question was vague enough, but the is-there-something-going-on-between-you-and-Tyler subtext was all too clear.

  “Who am I talking to?” Rose asked. “Georgiana’s brother or just Ethan?”

  “Just Ethan,” he replied, and somehow Rose trusted him.

  “Tyler is my best friend; we managed to stay just friends for a long time.”

  “Past tense?”

  “Past tense,” she confirmed.

  Ethan didn’t press her; he waited for her to tell him more, or not tell him anything. This made her even more confident she could open up to him, and she did. Rose told him everything; she started with Marcus and ended with the disaster the last couple of months had been.

  “…and now you probably hate me because Georgiana is your sister and I’ve been horrible to her.”

  “I don’t hate you,” Ethan said, though he’d gone rigid in his chair. “I know my sister’s not an angel, but she doesn’t deserve to be cheated on. Still, I’m not angry at you—how could I be? You weren’t the one cheating on Georgiana. Tyler’s the bastard who was playing both of you like that. He’s lucky he’s on another continent!”

  Rose’s cheeks were beyond red at this point. “Do you think she knows?” she asked, not daring to look him in the eye.

  “From what Gigi told me, she’s almost certain.”

  “And she doesn’t care?”

  “My sister’s peculiar like that,” Ethan said noncommittally. “Georgiana has decided she wants to be with Tyler, and as long as she gets what she wants, she doesn’t seem to care if he wants to be with her or not.”

  “So you don’t hate me for hurting her? Are you sure?”

  “As I said, you aren’t the one who’s in the wrong here. That Tyler dude, though—him, I hate. I could snap his neck. Do you love him?”

  “I do,” Rose said sincerely. “But I’m not sure if I’m in love with him. Our relationship is too complicated to trace a line where the friendship ends and the love starts. But what we did was a huge mistake, and I hope we can find our way back to being just friends. What about you? Anyone I should know about?”

  “Not really…”

  “What about that blonde girl at Georgiana’s birthday?” The one glaring at me, Rose silently added. “What was her name?”

  “Alice.”

  “Alice, right. Are you still seeing her?”

  Ethan shrugged.

  Meaning, yes.

  “The night we met, did you go see her after you dropped me off?” Rose pressed.

  Ethan’s eyebrows flew upward; he was clearly taken aback by the question. “I did,” he admitted.

  “Did you sleep together?”

  Ethan replied with a curt nod, his jaw tense.

  “And after that?”

  Another small nod.

  “When was the last time?”

  “Two nights before our date.”

  “Will there be a next?” Rose asked, not sure she wanted to know.

  “I don’t know,” Ethan answered honestly.

  “Listen.” Rose took a sip of her coffee, which had gone cold. “I genuinely like you…”

  “I sense a ‘but’ coming,” Ethan said with a skeptical smile.

  “But… I don’t want to be mixed up in another love triangle. My life is already too complicated as is. I don’t want to fool around. And let’s not kid ourselves—you’re Georgiana’s brother. That’s not irrelevant.”

  “You’re right,” Ethan said. He stood up and pulled on his black leather jacket. “I should sort myself out first.” He moved toward the door.

  “If you ever do, well, you know where I live.” Rose followed him to the door and held it open for him.

  “Goodbye, Miss Atwood.” Ethan kissed her on the forehead.

  Rose liked that he acted like a gentleman out of a Jane Austen novel whenever he was flirting. “Goodbye, Mr. Smithson,” she said, playing along.

  She watched Ethan go and closed the door behind him, leaning her forehead against the cold metal. Rose was already feeling a pang of regret. Had she done the right thing? If so, then why the disappointment?

  Because doing the right thing sucked, she answered herself. But she’d done enough wrong for a while, and she wanted her next relationship to start out clean. No secrets, no sneaking around, and most definitely no other women. If the bare mention of an exclusive relationship sent Ethan running for the hills, it’d be even clearer she’d made the right choice.

  Sixteen

  Rose

  Once she was settled into her new home, Rose started settling into her new, independent life as well. Being out of Tyler’s house helped more than she’d expected. Not having to see him or Georgiana was the icing on her recovery cake. Six months was a long break. By the time Tyler came back, her heart would be healed, and she’d be in control of her feelings once again. Really, France was the perfect solution, and the only way to salvage her friendship with Tyler.

  This forced break was the longest they’d ever been apart, but Rose didn’t have time to feel alone. Harvard Law was more than enough to keep her mind busy, and without distractions her grades had become even better than usual. Rose was concentrating on herself and on her studies. She was alone, independent, in control of her life… and it felt good.

  ***

  Rose stretched in bed, half asleep. It was Saturday morning and even if she had to study, she hadn’t set the alarm clock. Unexpectedly, the doorbell rang, cutting her morning treat short.

  Rose stared at the ceiling, confused for a few seconds. It must be the mailman delivering her latest textbook order. She reluctantly shuffled out of bed, adjusted her hair in a messy bun, and went to open the door wearing only her pale gray just-above-the-knee nightdress and a pair of socks. She had a paper to write anyway, so the delivery was as good a wake-up call as any.

  But there wasn’t a mailman waiting for her on her landing. Rather, it was Ethan, holding a tray of coffee cups and a box of donuts.

  “Trick or treat?” he asked.

  “Aren’t you supposed to wear a costume for that?” Rose said groggily, her voice still thick with sleep. She’d forgotten it was Halloween.

  “Not a morning person, huh?” Ethan said with a wicked smile.

  “Guilty.”

  “Don’t you even want to know the plea bargain first?”

  “You have donuts in one hand and coffee in the other. I’m good.” Rose smiled. “Come on in. Let me go put something on.”

  “No, please, it’s the first time I’ve seen your legs. They look too good to be covered up.”

  “Well, sorry, but I’m not comfortable being the only one in the room not wearing pants.”

&nb
sp; “In that case…” In a swift move, Ethan dropped everything on the kitchen table and kicked away his shoes. He was already unbuttoning his pants before Rose realized what he was doing.

  “That’s not what I meant!” she protested, covering her face with her hands. But he was already folding his pants neatly in two. Ethan laid the pants on the back of a chair on which he sat afterwards. Rose had no choice left other than to sit opposite him and try to ignore the fact that there was a half-naked, very attractive guy sitting in her kitchen.

  “So what brings you to this part of town?” Rose sipped her coffee, pleased to notice he’d remembered she loved cappuccinos.

  “Oh, I like to check on tenants I’ve helped find a place for from time to time.”

  “You mean you bring coffee and donuts to all of them?”

  “No, donuts are a special perk I reserve for you.”

  “I’m honored.” She took a bite to show her appreciation.

  “You’ve been all right, then? You have all you need?”

  Rose knew his question wasn’t a casual one, but she gave him a casual answer all the same. “I’m missing something red.”

  “Red?”

  “Yeah, I like the minimalist style, but I need a pop of color.”

  “Don’t tell me you have an artistic side! So un-lawyer-like of you. How’s everything else been?”

  “Same old. You know, I’m having fun with Constitutional Law.” Rose knew she was avoiding his questions, but she wasn’t sure what he was doing here yet. “How about you?”

  “I’ve pretty much been a lone wolf for the last month.”

  He looked a bit like a wolf—one with piercing blue eyes.

  “Not on my account, I hope?” Rose hid her face behind her coffee cup.

  “To be honest, Miss Atwood, it has been on your account.”