by Shay Savage
“I’m willing to give it a shot,” Zoey said.
“All right,” Presley said with a sigh. “I’ll try, but if I see a sign that he’s treating you like shit, I’ll need everyone to help me hide the body.”
*****
Ethan was dressed in a nice pair of jeans, no holes, and a button-down shirt. He was still wearing his black Converse shoes, and he was far from dressy, compared to the rest of the group, but at least he didn’t look too out of place. No one could even see his tattoos under the shirt’s long sleeves.
We walked into Marco’s. Only Presley and Zoey were there, but that was something, at least.
“Hello, Ethan,” Presley said. Her tone wasn’t overly friendly, but she at least acknowledged him. She leaned close to him, and for a moment, I thought she was going to kiss his cheek. Instead, she whispered something in his ear, and Ethan’s eyes went wide.
“No!” he said quickly. “I would never.”
“Better not.” Presley took a step away from him, and Zoey walked up. I glanced at Presley, wondering what she had said to him, but she wouldn’t meet my gaze. Zoey elbowed me in the side and smiled with bright red lips.
“Ethan, this is Zoey.”
“Hi, Ethan. Tell me all about these piercings and tats.”
We all sat down, and Ethan relayed the story of what his tattoos and piercings meant to him. Presley looked bored, but Zoey appeared interested in his explanations. She insisted on seeing the tattoo of the roses, and Ethan had to unbutton his shirt a bit to show her.
Zoey give me a wide-eyed smile and fanned her face as she nodded toward Ethan’s partially bare chest. She grinned and licked her lips when he looked down to button up his shirt. I scowled at her and tried to hold back a smirk.
We sat at a table and ordered drinks. Presley picked out the priciest wine on the menu, and Zoey went with her usual vodka and tonic. When Ethan ordered a Coke, I followed suit.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said quietly.
“Do what?”
“Order a real drink if you want,” he said. “It won’t hurt my feelings.”
“Maybe I want a Coke.” I tilted my head as I looked back at him.
“You don’t.” He smiled and shook his head. “I don’t want you to change your behavior because of me. If you do, you’ll end up resenting me because of it. Order wine or whatever else you want. It doesn’t bother me.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure I want you to enjoy your time with your friends, and I’m sure you’d rather have alcohol. So do it. We are going to get an Uber back anyway.”
“All right,” I said, “if you insist.”
I flagged down the server and asked for a martini. Ethan smiled as I took my first sip.
“I don’t want you ever going against what you want for the sake of sparing my feelings,” he said. “Certainly not for something as stupid as what you want to drink. If it’s something important, we can talk about it first.”
“Are you sure you aren’t older than you say?” I asked. “You are awfully wise.”
Ethan brought his fingertips together to make two large circles, which he then placed over his eyes as he began to make owl sounds.
“All right!” I said with a laugh. “You have just proven how childish you are!”
He continued with the owl impersonations until my sides hurt from laughing. Presley and Zoey looked at us like we were both nuts.
We ordered pizza, and Presley started giving Ethan the third degree. She asked him about his parents, why he dropped out of school, and his head injuries. She gasped when he told her that he couldn’t read, and that spurred a ton of other questions. Ethan answered each one in turn and with a very matter-of-fact tone. Presley tried to hide how impressed she was by his frank answers, but I saw through it. Mostly I hoped she wasn’t making Ethan too uncomfortable, but he seemed all right with her interrogation. I reached under the table and grasped his hand. He smiled at me and squeezed my fingers.
Eventually, Presley relented.
“Selfie!” Zoey squished her head in between mine and Presley’s, held her phone up high, and took a couple of pictures as we all smiled and held up our drinks. Ethan scooted away a little, avoiding the camera.
“Let me see it!” Presley said, grabbing at the phone. She examined the picture closely and then played around with the filters. “All right, that’s acceptable.”
“You could have been in the picture, too,” I said as I leaned close to Ethan.
“That’s okay,” he said. “Let’s take one of us.”
We spent a minute taking pictures with both of our phones. The first few were good ones, and then Ethan started making goofy faces. I joined in, and pretty soon we were both laughing.
“I gotta pee,” Ethan said. “Too much laughing!”
“I’ll show you where the bathrooms are,” I said. I didn’t want a repeat of our dinner out when Ethan wasn’t sure which bathroom was the men’s, so I led him back around the bar, pointed out the correct door, and then looked over the drink menu while Ethan disappeared inside.
The bartender came up and asked me what I wanted, and I picked out one of their specialty rum drinks. He started mixing, and Ethan appeared back at my side, leaning against a wooden pillar near the bar.
“Can I get you something?” the bartender asked Ethan.
“Nah, I’m good,” Ethan said with a smile. He shook his head a little as the bartender placed my drink, complete with little umbrella, in front of me and walked away.
“I could always order a drink for you,” I said softly. “If I got it at the bar and brought it to the table, no one would say anything.”
“That’s okay,” Ethan said. “I wouldn’t want to risk getting you in trouble or anything. It bothers you that I can’t drink though. I can tell.”
“It is a little odd dating someone who isn’t of age,” I said. “It’s not that I really care, but it’s not something I’m used to. In my social circles, we all do a little drinking. It’s more of an automatic response that I have to curb rather than being bothered by it. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, I think it does.” Ethan snickered. “You should order me a Shirley Temple or maybe a virgin daiquiri. Those are good.”
“You’re silly,” I said as I bumped shoulders with him.
“I like strawberry daiquiris,” he said. “They’re tasty, and I could never really tell the difference between the ones with rum in them and the ones without. Not in the taste, anyway.”
“So you are admitting to underage drinking?” I feigned shock. “I’m appalled!”
“Gwen and Faith made them for me once,” Ethan said with a grin. “I got hammered after two of them. Frankly, I didn’t like the way it made me feel. I’m not sure I’d order an alcoholic drink even if I was legally able.”
“It does take a little getting used to,” I said. “It took me forever to figure out what I liked to drink. I can’t stand beer of any kind, but red wine is good.”
Ethan started to respond, but we were interrupted.
“Nice hair.”
I glanced over my shoulder at the sound of a familiar but unexpected voice.
Cole strolled up to where Ethan and I were standing, dark eyes blazing. I hadn’t seen him since we broke up, but there he was, tall and intimidating with his short, black hair and scruffy beard.
Ethan raised a hand to the back of his head, smoothing out a few of the strands that had come away from the bun.
“Thanks,” he said. He looked from Cole to me warily.
“Is that what passes for manhood these days,” Cole asked, “wearing your hair like a ballerina?”
Ethan didn’t respond, but I saw his chest rise and fall with a deep breath. He stared wordlessly at Cole, who continued to smile as he moved closer. Before I could react, he leaned close and kissed my cheek.
“Good to see you, Ash baby,” he said. He ran his hand down my arm and took a step between Ethan and me, pushing Ethan back
until he bumped into the wooden pillar by the bar.
I glanced at Ethan. He narrowed his eyes at Cole but still didn’t say anything. Cole turned his head to stare right back at him with his head slightly tilted. I was reminded of a nature show where male gorillas were pacing around, challenging one another with their eyes right before they started pounding their chests.
I glared at Cole.
“What are you doing here?” I asked when I found my voice.
“I was in town,” Cole said with a sinister smile. “I heard you were out and about and thought I’d stop by and say hello to my girl.”
This wasn’t my normal hangout, and I didn’t believe for a second that Cole was here by chance, but who would have told him where to find me? My friends couldn’t stand him.
“I’m not your girl,” I muttered. I started to step away from the bar, but Cole blocked my way.
“Ashlyn, we need to talk,” Cole said. He gripped my upper arm tightly.
“Let her go.”
“Fuck you,” Cole said with a sneer. He turned toward Ethan. “I don’t need some metrosexual child telling me what to do. Go mind your own business while I talk to my Ashlyn.”
“She’s not yours.”
Everything happened so fast, but I felt as if I were watching the encounter in slow motion.
Cole laughed once as he shook his head slowly. He looked at Ethan and then at me. A second later, he turned to face Ethan, pulled back his arm, tightened his hand into a fist, and swung it at Ethan’s head.
Ethan sidestepped, twisting his body down and to the right, and Cole’s fist plowed into the wooden pillar Ethan had been leaning against. I heard a distinctive crack of bones breaking as Cole’s knuckles hit the unyielding wood, and Cole cried out.
With a growl, Cole backed up and made a run at Ethan. Ethan ducked, moved forward, and Cole went right over his back, crashing into one of the high-top tables near the bar. The bartender started yelling to the shocked server nearby to call the police as he started to run around the bar to break up the fight.
Cole rolled over and stood up, fists raised. Ethan stood his ground in front of me, looking tiny compared to Cole’s huge form. I realized Cole wasn’t going to be taken by surprise a third time and that Ethan could be in a lot of trouble.
Suddenly, Isaac appeared. He stepped up right beside Ethan and glared at Cole.
“You need to leave,” Isaac said.
Cole took a half step backward and then pointed a finger at me.
“You aren’t fucking worth it!” he screamed. “You never were, you stupid bitch! I don’t know why I wasted any time with you in the first place!”
He took a step forward, but both Ethan and Isaac braced themselves, ready to take him on. Apparently, Cole thought better of it and quickly stalked toward the front door as police sirens wailed in the distance. A moment later, the bartender appeared behind him, and Zoey and Presley followed.
Ethan turned around and grabbed me, pulling me against his chest and pressing his lips to my temple.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I’m fine. Did he hurt you?”
“Didn’t touch me,” Ethan said.
“I can’t believe you fended him off like that,” I said. “He’s twice your size.”
“Size only matters in some areas.” Ethan leaned back, looked me in the eye, and winked. “I’m wiry, and I know how to move. I don’t really care for violence, but I took some Akido classes when I was in high school. The self-defense methods come in handy every once in a while.”
“Apparently.”
“Still, I was kinda worried there for a minute.” Ethan looked over at Isaac.
“That was pretty impressive,” Isaac said. He gave me a quick smile. “Glad this guy was here for you, Ash.”
“Ethan,” I said, “this is Isaac.”
“Thanks for the backup,” Ethan said. He reached over and shook Isaac’s hand.
“My pleasure,” Isaac said. “Cole’s as asshole. It was nice to watch him get burned.”
Presley and Zoey came back inside and walked swiftly to us.
“The cops are here,” Zoey said, “but Cole took off. I gave them a description of his car, and they said they’d be on the lookout for him. They’re on their way inside and want to talk to you though.”
I nodded.
“How did he know where to find me?” I asked, looking at Presley.
“I have no idea,” she said.
“I posted that picture of us,” Zoey said as she scrolled through her phone. “It automatically tagged where we are. My account isn’t private, so he might have seen it there.”
“Very likely.” I sighed and looked over at Ethan.
“I’m so sorry,” Zoey said, reaching out and grasping my arm. “I didn’t think about Cole even being around, let alone stalking my account to get to you. Should I delete the picture?”
“No reason for that now,” I replied.
“I’m changing my account settings right now.” Zoey tapped rapidly for a moment as I turned back to Presley.
“Are you going to cut Ethan a little more slack now?” I asked.
“That was pretty awesome,” Presley said. She smiled at Ethan. “I guess you can stick around. I think we’d all admit that putting Cole down earned you a bunch of points.”
“Thanks,” Ethan said, “I think.”
Presley laughed and gave him a hug.
“Once everyone hears about this,” Presley said, “they’re all going to love him.”
“That’s a good thing,” I said. “I’m going to need a lot of support tomorrow.”
“Why tomorrow?” Presley asked.
“I’m going to take him to Vanessa’s luncheon. It’s my graduation party, and I want Ethan there.”
“That ought to be entertaining,” Zoey said.
Presley looked at me intently for a moment.
“You really are serious,” she said. “You’re serious about this and about him.”
“I am.”
“I’m starting to see why.” Presley gave Ethan a genuine smile.
Ethan reached over and took my hand, pulling me close to his side and kissing the top of my head.
“Will you both be there?” I looked at Presley and then Zoey.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!”
Chapter 26—Enlighten
“I guess that was your ex?” Ethan stroked his thumb along the back of my hand.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
We walked through the front doors of Ethan’s apartment building and headed for the elevator. I was exhausted from the evening’s encounter, and Ethan had been unusually quiet on the way back to his place.
Inside the apartment, Ethan wordlessly led me to the pink bean bag chair, sat me down, got me a drink of water, and began to massage my feet. My body relaxed immediately, but my mind was still focused on the image of Cole’s angry face.
“He gave you that scar on your lip, didn’t he?”
I blinked several times while I stared at Ethan. He didn’t look up. He just kept rubbing my feet. Lying about how I got the scar had become second nature, and the desire to deny it had anything to do with Cole was strong, but I wanted to be honest with Ethan.
“How did you know that?” I asked.
“You’ve been rubbing it ever since we left Marco’s.”
“Oh.” I clasped my hands in my lap.
“I wish you had told me about that,” Ethan said. He finally glanced up at me, his eyes dark. “Then again, if you had, I would have ended up punching him. I’m sure an assault charge wouldn’t impress your dad.”
“Probably not.” I gave him a tight-lipped smile.
“How many times?” Ethan asked.
“How many times what?”
“How many times did he hit you?”
“Just once. I left him not long after that.”
“Not long?”
“I caught him with another woman about a week later.”
“And you left because of that?” Ethan’s voice rose in pitch, and he furrowed his brow. “Not because he hit you?”
“It’s complicated.” I started to reach for the scar again but stopped myself. “Our fathers are friends. His family is an important client. I couldn’t just make accusations like that.”
Ethan stared at me for a full minute before he scowled and went back to soothing my toes.
“That’s fucked up, Ashlyn.”
*****
The grand house that had been my home as a child looked strangely ominous despite the festive decorations lining the driveway. I drove past the valet area and parked in my usual spot in front of the garage door.
“Are you ready for this?” Ethan reached over the center console of my Saab and placed his hand on my thigh.
“Not at all,” I said, “but I guess sitting in the car all afternoon isn’t much of an option.”
“I don’t have to be here,” he said. “I can just head back to my apartment and wait for you. I can always meet your family another time.”
“No.” I shook my head quickly. “It’s my graduation party, and I want you here. Besides, waiting just prolongs the inevitable, and you got all dressed up.”
“I look pretty awesome, don’t I?” Ethan flashed me his brilliant smile.
He did look awesome. My jaw had just about hit the ground when he came out of his apartment entrance wearing an Armani suit, complete with vest and fancy brown shoes. They were off-brand, which wouldn’t go unnoticed, but they looked nice, and he said they were comfortable.
“You do clean up well,” I said with a laugh. I leaned over to kiss his cheek, and we both stepped out of the car.
Instead of arriving early and going through the house, I purposely showed up just a few minutes late and walked around the house and through the balloon tunnel to my graduation luncheon. Vanessa had gone all out for my party, even by her standards. Aside from the balloons, there was a string quartet playing on a raised platform, two full bars on either side of the yard, and a buffet-style feast that probably could have fed an army.
The entire back yard was already full of people, and all of the lavish decorations were in my school’s colors, right down to the vests worn by the quartet musicians.
