Barbie
Just like the past few days, I haven’t been getting much sleep, so I’m awake at five, staring at the ceiling, and preoccupied with my overactive thoughts. Well, thought.
I’ve got a one-track mind right now and it’s Ethan, Ethan, Ethan.
Trying to not text him as often as I did the last two months hasn’t worked out in my favor at all. My efforts the entire week were done in vain. All I’ve managed is missing him even more in the process.
I miss his dorky responses to my jokes, with him trying to out-lame me.
I miss him telling me all the gossip at Green Checks because he’s willing to snoop on email chains for me now that I’m no longer employed there.
I miss him so much that I’m not even offended by the captcha tests he sends me every night before he goes to bed—although I was never offended to begin with.
I’d purposely select all the wrong squares.
I miss him, and now he’s barely even responding to my texts. He’s been too busy the last three nights to raise chickens with me on our virtual co-op farm.
I know he has his own life, but I… wish I could be part of it somehow.
Grabbing a pillow, I groan into it. My cat meows in protest from where he’s sleeping, curled up beside my head.
“So what if I’m technically in an unofficial long-distance relationship with Ethan? So what if he doesn’t know that he made me cry when he showed me the aquarium he built in the game for my character so she can be a marine biologist, too? So what if I want him here with me?
“We were technically long-distance coworkers, and we got a lot of work done. Instead of scheduling a bunch of meetings to discuss reports, upcoming sprints, and spreadsheets, we can schedule video chats to dirty talk about spreading my sheets if he were here—” I groan into my pillow again.
Pie makes another meow, this time swatting at my forehead.
Releasing a sigh, I look up at the ceiling. “It’s so selfish of me, Pie, but I wish he were here. In California. Even if—”
My phone goes off, and my cat startles as I reach for it to see who’s calling me at five-twelve in the morning.
The research center’s parking lot is nearly empty when my car slows to a complete stop.
My hands are shaking. No. My body’s shaking. Everything is shaky and jittery—even my heart—as if I just chugged ten cups of coffee and topped it off with six cans of energy drinks.
There’s a white crossover SUV parked a few yards across from me. Oregon license plate. Bumper stickers of various national parks. A driver who’s super dorky and has been the object of my intense pining getting out of the vehicle.
I climb out of my car—then double back to make sure the parking brakes are on—before I break off into a sprint and slam into him as he tries to meet me halfway. We nearly stagger, but he steadies us at the last moment because his body is so solid and sturdy and rugged like a tree.
“You’re here.” My arms loop around his chest, squeezing him tightly. “You’re here.”
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “I’m here.”
“Why are you—” My throat goes tight with tears. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you think?”
“You want to tackle all the hiking trails in Southern California in the next forty-eight hours for some obscure weekend warrior badge,” I say, screwing my eyes shut when he draws me in even tighter into his arms and chuckles against my hairline.
“I drove almost a thousand miles to see you, and you have to be a smartass about it.”
“Oh my God,” I gasp. “You’re here.”
“Yeah. I’m here.” His lips brush against my temple. “I thought about surprising you at seven-fifteen, but honestly? I just wanted to see you.” Hot tears blur the edges of my vision as he continues. “And I didn’t realize the place didn’t open until nine—Barbie?”
His head pulls back, and I cling to him tighter.
“Are you crying?” He releases me, scanning me with genuine worry. “Shit, you’re hyperventilating.”
“I’m sorry. I am just so happy to see you,” I confess, fanning my face and flushed cheeks with my hands. “I don’t understand why you’re here. I feel like I should go play the lottery because this morning, I wished you were here—Why are you here?”
“I’m here because I miss you,” he says. My lips wobble as I tilt my head back to meet his gaze. “Because I had to see you again. Because you’re all I think about. Because I want to be with you.”
“I want to be with you, too,” I whisper. “So badly. But you live in Oregon—”
“Just for now,” he says. My face scrunches with confusion.
“It’s a long story. As much as I’d love to explain everything, I drove for almost twenty hours straight and haven’t gotten any sleep.
” He pauses. “And technically, I have to clock in for work in less than an hour. The perks of working remotely.”
My eyes widen in alarm. “Wait, did you bring your work laptop with you?”
He lets out a wry chuckle. “I did. And thankfully, this one didn’t get dropkicked while I was traveling.” When he sees the look on my face, he snorts. “It’s another long story.”
“You can tell me later,” I say, fighting the tears that are gathering on my lower lashes. “Back at my place.” And then, before he can respond, I tackle him with another hug, just to make sure this is real, he’s actually here, I’m not imagining it. “Promise me you’re actually here, Ethyl Alcohol.”
“I’m here, Barbie,” he murmurs into the crown of my head. “Or, to speak your language, one-zero-zero-one—”
“Shut up!” I laugh, and I twine my fingers into his hair and pull him down quickly to crush my lips to his.
He’s still here when I return to my apartment from my internship and soul-sucking LA traffic. He’s asleep on my bed with Pie sprawled out across his chest. I almost freeze in the doorway when Ethan stirs slightly, flashing me a sleepy, crooked grin, and sending my heart on a loop-de-loop ride.
“Don’t let your cat fool you. He spent hours hissing at me and sat on my keyboard so many times.”
“He probably knows you’re the sheets guy, too.”
“I’m the what?”
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I forge on, ignoring the frown on his face. “I’m scared that I’m going to wake up at any second and find out this is a dream.”
“Bee, I’m here,” he says. “I’m really here. I’m in your room, with your cat that I had to bribe to like me, and the insane amount of shoes in your closet. If you still have any doubts, come feel up my arms.”
Shock scorches my cheeks. “What were you doing in my closet?”
“Your cat was screaming bloody murder in there,” he replies, scratching Pie under his chin. “Right during my scrum call with Joe.”
“And now you two are besties?”
“Oh, yeah.” His dimples come out in full force as he lazily grins. “Fed him so many chicken treats, he will go into battle for me. Perhaps he’ll use one of the millions of free pens at your desk to defend my honor.”
I huff out a snort and blurt, “I missed you.”
“Then what are you doing, standing over there?” He tips his head. “This bed is big enough for two people.”
“I don’t know, Ethan.” My lips curve. “The floor does seem like prime real estate.”
“Aw, Barbie, you shouldn’t be sleeping on the floor in your own bedroom.” He scoots over on my mattress, lifting Pie off of him and placing the tabby onto a fuzzy throw pillow. “Now, come here ’cause I miss you, too. So much that I drove nearly a thousand miles to see you.”
I don’t even hesitate. Scrambling toward my bed, a peal of laughter erupts from my chest when he catches me and sweeps me into his arms.
“Why are you here?” I whisper, closing my eyes, allowing myself the opportunity to draw comfort in the steady beat of his heart.
“’Cause I miss you.”
“Really, Ethan.”
“’Cause I really miss you, Barbie.” He holds me flush to his chest. “I would have left earlier to see you if there weren’t a couple of release demos and a report-out I had to do first.”
I breathe in his scent, the familiar notes of citrus and musk going straight to my heart. “What about your mom and her hips?”
“My sister can keep an eye on her,” he responds. “I, uh, need to come to terms with the fact they don’t need me around, playing man of the house.”
I glance into his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“It’s… You know how my stepdad died almost a decade ago?” His throat bobs as he swallows. “My mom was a wreck after he died. My sister was only ten and couldn’t comprehend—His death was hard on them both.”
“And you,” I say softly.
He exhales roughly, his eyelids shuttering. “And me.” There’s a slow and steady rise and fall to his chest. “Someone had to step up and keep my family from falling apart. It wasn’t like I was some kid. I was twenty-one.”
Sorrow grips my heart. “Oh, Ethan.”
“Guess I kinda got used to always having to step up for them. Now I gotta come to terms with Mom selling the house and moving to Texas next year to be closer to family. Lara’s going to Japan after she graduates to teach ESL, which she kept from me ’cause she was afraid I’d try to dissuade her from going. ”
“Would you have?”
“No. I’d support whatever she wanted to do. I always have. I didn’t even realize she’s working on getting her TESOL with her degree until she told me about it on Sunday.” A crease forms between his brows. “She thought I’d tell her to go for a more practical degree like I did.”
“What is your degree?”
“Economics.”
I gape at him. “You didn’t want to do something like aerospace?”
“I want to fly helicopters, not build ’em.” He pauses. “I did start off as an aerospace engineering major when I went to college.”
A grin overtakes my face. “I knew it.”
“You knew nothing.” His eyes crinkle. “You don’t even know about the model airplanes I had to build.”
“So, what does this mean?” I hesitate, worrying my bottom lip for a moment. My heart pounds, my pulse accelerating. “Are you moving to Texas as well? To be closer to family?”
He’s silent for a moment. “I think it’s time I do my own thing.” My heart drums even faster. “Know a good area to move to?”
“I heard they’re building a bunch of luxury homes in this certain beach town in the state of South Carolina,” I say. “If you’re looking for a change in scenery.”
He levels me with an arched expression, and my grin widens. “On my clown salary?”
With a loud snort, I blurt out, “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” he says. “At least there’s one good thing about working remotely.”
“You don’t have to deal with office politics? Water cooler small talk? Lunch thieves?”
Laughter lines form around his gorgeous eyes. “I can work anywhere next year when my lease is up,” he says. “Perhaps I’ll be in the same city with a certain chatbot?”
“Ooh, I like where this is going,” I say, and he dips his head, burying his face against my neck with a deep laugh.
“Me too, Bee.” His nose skirts against my fluttering pulse point, and he holds me firm and steady in his arms. “I like where this is going, too.”