Chapter 11ETHAN
CHAPTER 11
ETHAN
T he smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the air as Georgia leans back against my kitchen counter, laughing at something I said. It’s been years since we’ve spent this much time together, but with her, everything feels easy, like no time has passed at all. She had a conference nearby and she just thought to drop by. I chuckle remembering how both our parents always tried to get us together, Georgia and I went out on a couple of dates before we realized we were better off as friends and now, she’s like a sister to me.
“I still can’t believe you moved out here,” she says, shaking her head with that familiar smile. “Bardstown, of all places. What happened to ‘The city is where I belong, Georgia’?”
Georgia laughs, and it feels like we’re kids again. She’s always been family, the kind of person you trust implicitly but never quite look at the way other people expect. It’s comfortable, easy. But as easy as this moment is, I can’t shake the thought of how Riley might see it—Georgia, leaning against my counter, all polished and poised. Riley’s the type to assume the worst, especially given my track record.
I chuckle, taking a sip of my coffee. “Yeah, well, things change.”
“That’s the understatement of the year,” she teases. “You? In a small town? I half expected to see you in a suit and tie, charming investors.”
“Believe it or not, I like it here,” I reply, setting my mug down. “It’s quiet. Simple. Something I didn’t realize I needed until I got here.”
Georgia raises an eyebrow, her expression turning playful. “But you told me this wasn’t permanent. What happened to your grand plan to figure things out and move on?”
I hesitate, scratching the back of my neck. “I thought it wouldn’t be,” I admit. “But Bardstown has a way of growing on you.”
Her eyes narrow slightly, but there’s no malice in her gaze. “You’re really settling in, aren’t you?”
I shrug. “Maybe I am.”
Before Georgia can say more, there’s a light knock at the front door. I glance at her, then head over to answer it, my stomach tightening slightly for reasons I can’t explain.
When I open the door, Riley’s standing there, holding a small box in her hands. Her expression shifts the moment she sees me, her easygoing demeanor replaced with something tighter—something guarded.
“Aunt Dotty asked me to drop this off,” she says quickly, holding out the box like it’s a lifeline.
“Thanks,” I say, taking it from her. “You want to come in for a minute?”
Before she can answer, Georgia steps into view behind me, a smile on her face. Riley’s eyes flick from me to Georgia, and I see the shift instantly. Her shoulders stiffen, and the easy, confident air she usually carries evaporates. I want to say something to put her at ease, to explain that this isn’t what it looks like, but Georgia beats me to it.
“Who’s this?” she asks, her tone light and curious.
The smile Riley tries to muster doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Just a neighbor,” she says, her voice clipped. “I was dropping something off.”
“Ah, I’m Georgia. Good friend of Ethan’s.”
Georgia extends her hand, all charm and friendliness, but I can already tell Riley isn’t buying it. She hesitates for a fraction of a second before shaking Georgia’s hand, her polite smile strained. Georgia doesn’t notice—she’s always been oblivious to tension like this—but I do. And it’s eating me alive.”
“Riley,” she says, her tone cool enough to make ice.
“Riley runs the hardware store,” I say, trying to ease the tension I can feel building. “She’s been helping me figure out all the tools and stuff since I got here. ”
“Sounds like you’ve been busy,” Georgia says, glancing at me with a knowing smile.
Riley steps back, her hand dropping to her side. “I should get going,” she says, her voice a little too steady. “Looks like you’re busy, too.”
Her tone is neutral, but the look in her eyes isn’t. She’s already decided what she thinks about this, about Georgia. I open my mouth to stop her, to explain before she walks away, but the words don’t come fast enough. By the time I step onto the porch, she’s already halfway to her truck.
I stand there, the box still in my hands, watching as she pulls out of the driveway without looking back.
When I close the door and turn around, Georgia is watching me with a raised eyebrow. “So, that’s Riley. She’s exactly as you described her over the phone,” she says, her tone full of something I can’t quite place.
“Yeah and she probably thinks we are old lovers” I reply, running a hand through my hair.
“Oh please! She seems nice,” Georgia adds, leaning against the counter. “A little… tense, though. Did I miss something?”
I let out a sigh, setting the box on the counter. “It’s complicated.”
“Complicated?” she repeats, her eyebrow arching higher. “Ethan, come on. Spill.”
I shake my head, trying to gather my thoughts. “Riley’s been… different. She’s not like anyone I’ve met be fore. And I think…”
“You think what?” Georgia prompts, her tone softer now.
“I think I might’ve messed things up just now,” I admit, the words heavier than I expected.
Georgia gives me a look of mock sympathy. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m sure she’ll come around. Eventually.”
I don’t respond, my thoughts already spiraling back to the look on Riley’s face when she saw Georgia. I can’t shake the feeling that this just got much more complicated. Knowing Riley, she’ll read more meaning into this. Georgia and I have been friends since we were kids. We went out on a couple of dates before deciding to remain good friends.
Riley could easily get the wrong idea and build her walls back up again. I need to find her and explain myself before all the progress we’ve made goes up in flames.
T he sun is high by the time I convince Georgia to let me show her around Bardstown. She’s hesitant at first, claiming she doesn’t want to cramp my new “small-town lifestyle,” but I know better. Georgia’s curious, always has been, and despite her polished, city-girl vibe, she’s not one to back down from an adventure.
We wander through Main Street, the heart of Bardstown, where a few locals stop to chat. Georgia’s charm works as seamlessly here as it does in the city, though I can already tell she’s holding back some of her more polished edges .
“So, this is it?” she says, gesturing to the quaint shops and bustling sidewalks. “The great Bardstown?”
I grin. “Hey, don’t knock it. Bardstown’s got personality.”
“Personality is one word for it,” she teases, but her smile softens. “It’s cute. I get why you like it here.”
We stop outside the diner, where Mrs. Harriet is chatting with a few friends. She spots us and waves enthusiastically.
“Ethan!” she calls, her eyes darting to Georgia. “And who’s this lovely young lady?”
“This is Georgia,” I say, introducing her as an old friend. Georgia steps forward, offering one of her practiced, dazzling smiles.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Harriet,” she says, her tone warm and polite.
Mrs. Harriet’s eyes narrow slightly, not in suspicion but in recognition. “Georgia… Georgia Blackwood?”
Georgia laughs lightly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Guilty.”
“Wait,” one of Mrs. Harriet’s friends chimes in, her eyes wide. “The model? I knew I’d seen that face somewhere!”
This isn’t good. Mrs. Harriet’s eyes light up, and I know exactly where this is headed. Georgia’s presence was already raising eyebrows, but now? The second Riley hears about this—if she hasn’t already—it’s only going to add fuel to the fire. I need to find a way to get ahead of this before it spirals.
“Oh, it’s been a while since I modeled,” Georgia says modestly, but the damage is done. The news spreads like wildfire through the small crowd gathered near the diner, whispers rippling as people start pulling out their phones.
I rub the back of my neck, already dreading how quickly this will escalate.
“Looks like you’ve still got fans,” I mutter to Georgia, who shrugs with a sheepish smile.
Walking down Bardstown’s Main Street with Georgia feels like trying to steer a parading elephant through a china shop. People stop, stare, and whisper as we pass, their gazes lingering on her like she’s the eighth wonder of the world.
“Is it always like this here?” Georgia asks, adjusting her sunglasses as if that’ll make her blend in.
“Not usually,” I reply, keeping my voice low. “But news travels fast, and apparently, so do old modeling photos.”
I nod toward a group of locals sitting on the diner patio, their heads bent together as they share a phone screen. One of them glances up, catches my eye, and immediately starts whispering to the others. Fantastic.
“Guess the small-town charm comes with a side of nosiness,” Georgia teases, nudging me lightly with her elbow.
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Welcome to Bardstown.”
As we head toward Riley’s hardware store, I’m already bracing myself. The stop wasn’t planned—Georgia spotted the sign and insisted we go in because she “wanted to see where all the magic happens.” I know how this looks, and I also know Riley won’t exactly be thrilled about Georgia’s presence.
The bell above the door jingles as we step inside, and I immediately spot Riley at the counter, organizing a stack of receipts. She glances up, her expression flickering for just a moment before she schools it into something neutral.
“Back again?” she says, her tone even but cool.
“Georgia wanted to see the place,” I explain, forcing a smile as I gesture around. “Figured I’d give her the grand tour.”
“Of course,” Riley says, her lips twitching into a polite smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
Georgia steps forward, oblivious to the undercurrent in Riley’s tone. “This is such a cute store,” she says, glancing around. “So much character. You must put a lot of work into it.”
“I do,” Riley replies, her voice tight. “It’s my livelihood.”
“Ethan mentioned that,” Georgia says with a smile. “He’s really impressed by what you’ve built here. Said he’d be lost without your help.”
Riley doesn’t say anything right away, and the silence feels heavy. She looks at Georgia like she’s trying to figure her out, her polite smile doing a poor job of masking the tension in her eyes. I want to explain—want to tell her there’s nothing to figure out—but the words feel clumsy before I can even say them.
Georgia’s words are meant as a compliment, but they land wrong. Riley’s glance sharpens, and I know she’s questioning everything. It’s not just Georgia—this goes deeper. It’s about the part of me that hasn’t fully committed to staying, the part Riley doesn’t trust. And right now, I’m not sure how to prove her wrong.
“I’m so glad Ethan has friends here to help him,” Georgia continues, completely oblivious. “Even if he isn’t sticking around Bardstown forever, it’s good to have people he can count on while he’s here.”
Riley’s eyes dart to me again, sharp with betrayal, as though Georgia’s casual statement has cracked something fragile and unspoken between us. I shift uncomfortably under her gaze, aware that Georgia has spilled something I had no intention of sharing and, in fact, was never sure of to begin with.
The bell jingles again before I can explain, and two locals step inside, their eyes widening slightly as they spot the three of us together.
“Ethan,” one of them, an older man named Frank, says with a grin. “And Georgia, right? Saw your pictures online this morning. Didn’t realize Bardstown had its own celebrity couple!”
My stomach drops. “Frank, it’s not like that,” I start, but he’s already laughing, clearly enjoying himself.
“Relax, son,” he says, waving me off. “I’m just teasing. But I’ll say, you sure know how to keep things interesting around here. ”
The woman with him, Mrs. Thompson, gives Riley a pointed look. “Small towns are tricky, you know. Triangles tend to cause more drama than they’re worth.”
Riley stiffens, her fingers gripping the edge of the counter. “There’s no triangle,” she says flatly.
“Of course not,” Mrs. Thompson replies, though her tone is far from convincing.
Georgia, bless her oblivious heart, laughs lightly. “Well, if there is, I’m the least dramatic part of it. Trust me.”
The tension in the air thickens, and I can feel Riley’s patience wearing thin. She busies herself with a stack of papers, clearly trying to block out the conversation.
“All right,” I say quickly, forcing a laugh. “I think we’ve caused enough of a stir for one day.”
Riley doesn’t look up as Georgia and I head toward the door, and the pit in my stomach grows heavier with every step.
“See you around,” Georgia says brightly, offering Riley a wave.
Riley glances up just long enough to nod, her polite mask firmly in place.
Once we’re outside, Georgia nudges me. “Is it just me, or did that feel… tense?”
I let out a long breath, rubbing the back of my neck. “It’s complicated.”
“You said that already. Complicated how?” she asks, her tone genuinely curious. “I need actual details in case I have to swoop in to save your small-town romance.”
“There’s no small-town romance here,” I say as Georgia chuckles.
“That is so not the vibe I’m getting from you two.”
T he cab pulls into my driveway just as Georgia finishes adjusting the strap on her designer carry-on. She glances over at me, her polished smile intact, the one she’s perfected for cameras and runways.
“Well, this has been fun,” she says, her tone light but sincere. “A little different from our usual hangouts, but nice.”
I smirk, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Different is a good word for it.”
Georgia tilts her head, studying me. “You’re happy here, aren’t you?”
The question catches me off guard, but I nod slowly. “Yeah. I think I am.”
She smiles, softer this time. “Good. You deserve that, Ethan. Just… don’t let this town change you too much, all right?”
“Pretty sure Bardstown’s already gotten to me,” I admit, glancing down the street. “But maybe that’s not a bad thing. ”
She steps forward, pulling me into a quick hug. “Take care of yourself, okay? And don’t be a stranger.”
“Same to you,” I reply, stepping back as the cab driver loads her bag into the trunk.
Georgia slides into the backseat, her window rolling down as the car starts to pull away. “Good luck, Ethan,” she calls, her voice warm.
I wave as the cab disappears down the street, the sound of its tires fading into the distance. The driveway feels strangely empty without her, but I don’t have time to dwell on it. When I turn around, I see Riley standing at the edge of her aunt’s yard, holding a pair of gardening gloves.
Her expression is unreadable, her lips pressed into a thin line as she watches me.
“Riley,” I call, stepping toward her.
She doesn’t move, her gaze shifting to the spot where the cab had been moments before. “She leaving for good?” she asks, her tone neutral.
“Yeah,” I say, stopping a few feet away. “She’s headed back to New York. She was only here as a quick stop between flights to say hi.”
Riley nods, her fingers curling around the gloves. “Good for her.”
Her words are sharp, but I can hear the hurt beneath them. She’s assuming the worst, and maybe I don’t blame her. I’ve been so focused on settling in, on proving something to myself, that I haven’t considered how it all looks to Riley. But this? She’s got it all wrong.
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Riley, can we talk? About everything?”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Ethan,” she says quickly, her voice sharper than I expect. “She’s your ex, right, and you were showing her around town. It’s none of my business.”
“It is your business, and Georgia is like a sister to me,” I say firmly, stepping closer. “We dated once—for about five minutes—before we figured out pretty quickly that we’re better as friends. She’s like a sister to me, Riley. That’s all it’s ever been.”
The words come out steady, but I can see Riley wavering, like she wants to believe me but doesn’t know how. I try again. “I don’t want you to think?—”
“To think what?” she cuts in, her eyes flashing. “That you’re not serious about staying here? That you still have one foot out the door?”
Her words hit harder than I expect, but I don’t back down. “Georgia’s visit had nothing to do with that. She wanted to catch up, and I didn’t think it would cause… this.”
“‘This?” Riley echoes, crossing her arms. “You mean me being stupid enough to think you might actually care about this town? About me?”
“Of course, I care about you,” I say, my voice softening. “Riley, you’re the reason I love it here. ”
She shakes her head, taking a step back. “Don’t say that, Ethan. Don’t stand there and tell me I’m the reason you’re staying when you’re clearly telling Georgia that this isn’t permanent.”
“I haven’t said that to anyone in a long time,” I admit, my tone low. “When I moved here, I didn’t think I’d fit in or even love it here. But now… things are different. You make it different.”
Her breath hitches, but she quickly masks it, her walls slamming back into place.
“You can’t just say things like that, Ethan,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. “You can’t make me believe you’re all in one day and then parade your ex around town the next.”
“Again, she's not my ex! We are just very good friends, and it wasn’t like that,” I say desperately. “Georgia and I… we’ve known each other since grade school; we’re friends, Riley. That’s it.”
“Maybe you believe that,” she says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t think I can. Not after this.”
I take another step closer, the space between us feeling impossibly wide. “Riley, please. Don’t shut me out like this. It’s not even worth it. You are honestly blowing this out of proportion.”
She meets my gaze, her eyes glistening with something I can’t quite name. “I don’t know how to do anything else, Ethan,” she says, her voice breaking slightly. “It’s safer that way.”
Her voice shakes, and for a second, I see it—the crack in her armor, the vulnerability she works so hard to hide. But then she’s gone, turning away before I can say anything else, leaving me standing in the driveway with the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air. The driveway feels colder without her, and I’m left standing there, wondering if I’ll ever get through to her.