8. All Dressed Up （Ethan） #3
It’s obvious she hasn’t done her research if she’s this easily impressed—my parents love to pretend they’re fighters for a cause, campaigning for the end of deforestation or whatever it is this time, but really, it’s just another excuse to travel without other rich people nagging about their carbon footprint.
This time, it was a glorified glamping trip to Thailand and Vietnam.
Hattie lingers beside me, mostly silent. I’m content to keep quiet too, enjoying the feast and feeding Ares’ greedy mouth small scraps under the table.
His tail thumps the floor like a drumstick.
The old beast is the happiest one here by far, easily satisfied.
He’s not so bad when he’s fed, though. I could’ve inherited a far worse dog.
I ignore the way Mom’s eyes stab me every time Julia Sage stops talking to inhale more rice and wine. Someone could care less about her carb intake today.
I also notice the way Julia kicks Hattie’s leg under the table.
She leans over and mouths a few hurried words, looking pointedly at Hattie’s half-full plate, and it only takes me a second to figure out what she’s signaling.
Watch your portion.
What the fuck?
Not a chance.
Not here, not today, not right under my nose.
Hattie’s shoulders lock up. She looks down at her plate with pale-faced shame, and my hands ball into fists under the table.
I reach for her hand, prying it open.
She jumps at the touch.
I don’t look at her as I unfurl her fingers and link them with mine.
“Excuse me, Chef.” My smile feels like it’s doing a shitty job of hiding my teeth. “Can we get more hibachi rice and lobster rolls, please? More of that yum yum sauce, yeah. Fill the bowls to the top.”
I lock eyes with Julia.
Fuck yes, I want her to know I overheard what she whispered to Hattie, right in front of my parents, and it was unacceptable as hell.
If Hattie needs carbs to help take the edge off this agony, let her have them.
I don’t care if she isn’t a damn stick.
She’s curvy and real and fucking stunning.
There’s nothing wrong with her.
And I’m not about to sit and watch this nagging obsession with what she eats.
Julia turns red and clams up, finally leaving Hattie’s leg alone.
When Hattie moves again, she squeezes my hand hard.
She doesn’t say anything, not overtly, but it’s easy to get the message.
Thank you .
Dinner takes too long, but eventually we escape outside to the beach, only a short walk down from the boathouse out back.
Ares gives us the perfect excuse, needing a walk and a bathroom break after eating half his weight in sushi scraps.
The overgrown lump doesn’t truly care to move around, but I drag him along anyway.
Hattie joins me gratefully, sighing the instant we’re out the door.
For once, the silence between us feels easy, light.
I’m not looking for idle conversation, and she doesn’t look like she’s searching for the least painful way to crawl out of her skin anymore.
Lush green trees frame the road. The beach is a half-moon crescent of white sand, hugging the shore with a few other houses behind it on the hills.
The perfect place to dog walk, though with Ares, it’s more like coaxing him with every step.
Hattie pauses on the sand to pull off her heels and sling them over her finger.
“Thank you again,” she says, watching the waves churn. “You were a lifesaver back there.”
“It was nothing.”
“Not to me,” she insists. “Just—thank you, okay?”
“Sure.” I look down at her, barefoot and pretty, digging her toes into the sand like she’s intent on absorbing every moment. “What’s with your mom, anyway, obsessing with your diet? Can she check the damn attitude for even a second?”
She shrugs briskly.
“She’s always been like that. Pushy. I’ve always been a little thick, and Mom has always been just…
she lets me know. I guess she thinks the extra weight will magically melt off if I just follow her advice.
Honestly, she isn’t wrong. Her heart’s in the right place, but she just doesn’t know how to make her point without being annoying. ”
Anger kicks my gut.
Before I think better of it, I’m grabbing Hattie’s shoulders, turning her to face me.
“Fuck that, Pages,” I snarl. “You’re crazy if you think there’s anything wrong with your figure.”
Her eyes shine as we lock stares, and I realize my mistake.
I drop my hands quickly, wiping my palms on my pants.
“Point is, I know what it’s like having difficult parents,” I say. “I’m just glad we survived without a meltdown back there.”
“Just survived? I mean, they didn’t seem half-bad. You were right, they’re a lot like I remembered. Very polite and kinda formal,” she says cautiously.
We both turn, walking down the beach, step in step.
“That’s their routine. Trust me, they’re not always so welcoming. They can be selfish and bitter as hell.” I debate what to tell her and go for the ugly truth. “They weren’t fazed when the call came through about Gramps dying.”
Hattie doesn’t say anything, but I hear the way her breath catches.
“Their first thought was the estate—not that they needed more on top of Mom’s trust. And seeing as I’ve inherited the beating heart that powers that estate, they’re going to play nice. Trust me when I say their language is dollar signs.” I snort. “It gets old. Real fucking quick.”
“God, that sucks. I’m sorry,” Hattie whispers.
“That’s just how they are. When I was younger, I used to think they’d change someday. Maybe they’d get older and wiser, or maybe something would open their eyes, but they’re the same in their fifties as they were twenty years ago. Life’s no fairy tale.”
She half smiles. “Life was easier when we were kids, right?”
“Enormously. Just dicking around on the beach and riding Gramps’ yacht.”
“Nothing to worry about except the end of summer break.” She turns her face up to the sunset. “We knew how to be . Never knew how good we had it.”
“Kids never do.” I chuckle bitterly. “Back then, the only thing I had to worry about was how many ways Margot had to try to fuck up every date I went on.”
Hattie giggles, covering her mouth as she shoots a glance at me.
“She was bad. Kinda her favorite way to liven things up. Do you remember the time she put hair dye in your shampoo and turned it that crazy green color?”
“Couldn’t get that crap out for weeks. I looked like the fucking Joker.” I scrub my hand over my hair. “Little shit.”
“She laughed so hard she peed.”
“You also laughed it up when you saw me, if I recall,” I say dryly, staring at her. “You snorted so hard snot came out your nose.”
“Did not!” She claps a hand over her face like she’s afraid of it happening again, glaring. “You’re just saying that.”
“Am I?” I cock an eyebrow, enjoying how the color crawls up her neck to her ears. “You found it hilarious . Green-haired Ethan, the biggest hit of your boring life.”
The dye really was insane.
Worse than any emo kid, I turned into a walking cartoon.
“I was so pissed I canceled my date just so I could chase Margot around the house. Didn’t stop until I had her favorite stuffed animal hostage. You remember that elephant she used to sleep with, the one with the lazy eye?”
“Like I could ever forget.” She laughs.
“Yeah. I washed my hair like five times that night trying to get it out. No luck whatsoever.”
Hattie snickers through her hand.
“We were all pretty awful back then. I’m sorry. You used to date a lot in Maine, didn’t you?”
My face blanks.
“Yeah. Used to. I should be thanking you guys, seeing how none of those dates worked out.”
If only that stunt with the dye would’ve happened a couple summers later.
If they’d fucked up my first date with Taylor, a lot of trouble would’ve been avoided.
The last decade of my life could’ve been very different.
“Why did you leave Maine again? Was it your parents? I mean, being here, I can see why you’d want to get away from New York. But I get why Portland wasn’t far enough.” She looks at me, questions swirling in her eyes.
Fuck.
“Margot never knew you were thinking about the military until you joined up,” she adds. “You just up and left.”
Dammit, I did.
If there’s one thing I don’t want right now, it’s falling down that rabbit hole, the self-inflicted hell I endured—let alone how much of it was my fault.
Especially not when Hattie looks insanely gorgeous tonight with her blonde hair falling in supple waves over one shoulder, and that halter-neck dress showing smooth skin, inviting my mouth.
That dress hugs her, showing her tits in sharp relief as she takes a deep breath.
I know I shouldn’t keep staring at her like this.
I know, but I don’t stop.
This can’t end well, no matter how good it’s going today.
She looks damnably alluring in the evening light, her eyes glinting like jade, and I don’t realize I’ve taken a step toward her until she catches her breath.
“Ethan,” she whispers. “Why did you leave?”
I don’t answer.
I’m too busy looking at her mouth, another mistake.
Delectable, lush lips with a permanent pout that’s asking for my teeth.
She has a mouth made for fantasies made of pure filth.
When I slide one hand around her neck, tilting her head back gently, she doesn’t move.
Her lips part as she draws another breath.
“It was a mistake, Hattie. I have a terrible habit of making them,” I whisper.
Then I kiss her with the force of my entire soul.