Chapter 3 Margot #3
His eyebrows shoot up, along with the corners of his mouth. “Are you reading gay porn in my living room?”
It’s not a rhetorical question. His tone may be light and teasing, but it’s clear that he expects an answer.
No, I’m just reading reverse harem alien breeding smut in your living room.
Those are a few words I’m not willing to say out loud to my boss.
Or anyone. Ever.
Suddenly, I’m hoping for a sink hole to open up beneath me and swallow me whole. Ethan will survive, and he has two other living rooms, so he’ll be fine.
“N-no,” I stammer. “It’s just a romance book…
about three aliens.”
Ethan shoots me a quizzical look. Apparently, he hasn’t taken a stroll down the romance aisle of his local bookstore lately. I’m not the only one reading this stuff.
“They’re not gay,” I add for some reason.
Stop talking.
“Well, I mean they’re not totally straight either. There’s obviously some… touching…”
Stop talking. Now.
“But there’s a woman, too. She crash-landed on their planet, and they’re more interested in impregnating her than touching each other’s…”
Don’t say dicks. For the love of all that is holy, do not talk about alien dicks in front of your boss.
“… dicks.”
My cheeks flame and my pulse races under my skin. If the sinkhole thing doesn’t work out, maybe I’ll just burrow my way under Ethan’s sofa cushions and hide there for… well, the rest of eternity.
Ethan looks like he’s genuinely pondering the plot for a moment then simply says, “Huh.” The single syllable lacks any amount of judgement. “I always figured you were reading Jane Austen or Shakespeare or something.”
Nope, just big-dicked blue alien breeding smut.
“Well, I mean, I’ve read Jane Austen too. But my taste in books is usually a little more…” What’s the word I’m looking for? Modern? Whimsical?
“Pervy?” Ethan jokes.
My mouth snaps shut. I give Ethan an incredulous look, even though it takes every ounce of self-control to pretend like I’m not dying of shame on the inside.
“I’m going to have to quit,” I announce.
“What?” he laughs abruptly. “You can’t quit.”
“No, I’m going to have to,” I say it like a joke, but I’m half-serious. This is too mortifying.
“Over alien porn?”
The nervous laugh that escapes my throat sounds like a leprechaun on cocaine. “Yes, because my boss is now aware that I spend my free time reading romance books about big-dicked aliens and their faulty loincloths. I can’t work for you anymore.”
Ethan smiles at me, shaking his head. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and taps the screen a few times before handing it to me. “Here.”
Tentatively, I reach for the phone and look down at the screen. The word MILF jumps out at me, making my eyebrows leap up to my hairline.
“What’s this?” I ask, glancing over at him.
“My recent porn history. Now we’re even.”
My gaze drops back down to the screen. A search bar at the top reveals his recent searches. All of them involve the word MILF. Obscured thumbnails of big boobs loom in the background.
“This isn’t nearly as embarrassing,” I say, handing the phone back to him. “If anything, this is sort of—I don’t know—endearing.”
A laugh punches from his chest as his brows draw together in confusion. “How is my affinity for MILF porn endearing?”
“It means you like age-appropriate women, imperfections and all. This isn’t nearly as bad as what you just saw on my Kindle. I’m still going to have to quit.”
Ethan ponders this for a minute as he slides his phone back into his pocket. He lets the back of the sofa catch his head as he blows out a big, dramatic breath.
“Alright, here it goes,” he says solemnly. When his hazel eyes meet mine, I sit up a little straighter and listen intently. “No one else knows this about me, but… I have a third nipple.”
I roll my eyes hard enough that I’m pretty sure they orbit the planet. When they return to earth, I shoot him a doubtful glare. “You do not.”
“I do.”
“Fine, then show me.”
He shakes his head, maintaining his serious facade. “It’s on my ass.”
“Well, now I know you’re lying. Half the women in Denver have seen your ass, so it certainly wouldn’t be some big secret. In fact, your third nipple would probably be the runner up for Denver’s Most Eligible Bachelor… if it actually existed, that is.”
“Such a smartass,” he mumbles with a smile.
“Such a liar,” I counter.
Ethan’s eyes linger on mine for another second before he turns back to the television.
He turns it on and starts scrolling through movie options.
“What do you want to watch, smartass?” Pausing on the icon for E.T.
, Ethan cocks an eyebrow at me. “Probably best to avoid this one, given your sexual proclivities. Wouldn’t want you getting too worked up over there. ”
“Ha-ha,” I deadpan, rolling my eyes again. “Probably best to avoid Murder, She Wrote as well. Wouldn’t want you getting too worked up over Angela Lansbury.”
Ethan’s laugh is a quiet rise and fall of his chest that reverberates through the sofa cushions. He keeps scrolling, eventually landing on The Princess Bride. “This seems like a safe choice. Everybody loves this movie.”
“Agreed,” I nod.
He fires it up, and we both settle into our respective corners of the couch.
A while later, I wake up just in time for the fairy tale kiss and the final scene.
I’m curled into the smallest possible version of myself, cocooned in the soft blanket with my head propped up on the arm rest of the sofa.
Slowly, I sit up and take in my surroundings.
The end credits begin scrolling across the screen, while Ethan is sprawled out on the opposite side of the sofa with his head tilted backwards and his feet propped up on the coffee table.
“Ethan,” I whisper.
He doesn’t move.
I say his name again, at full volume this time. “Ethan, wake up.”
Still nothing.
Shucking the blanket off, I reach over and lay my palm on his shoulder, giving it a gentle shake.
His eyelids slowly peel apart. He stares straight ahead at the TV for a second then looks over at me.
His eyes are hazy and unfocused. His features are relaxed, and his hair is still infuriatingly perfect.
“What time is it?” he asks in a gravelly voice.
“I don’t know, but the movie’s over. I’m going to bed.”
He nods and slowly pulls himself up into a sitting position. “Yeah, me too.”
“Okay,” I say, standing up and reaching for my e-reader. “Good night then.”
“Good night, Margot. Enjoy your alien porn.”