Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SEVEN VIRTUES, NORTH CAROLINA
Try new things. Listen to your body. Be the healthiest you that you can be.
—Fab and Delish
Three Years Ago
Over time and distance, Ethan and I became as close—if not closer—than me and Austyn. There wasn’t anything I didn’t share with him. And in retrospect, he gave me the same honesty.
This isn’t going to work with us in the places we’re presently at in our lives.
We rarely give specifics but I know him and try my damnedest to deny the crazy jealousy where he’s concerned.
He tells me about his dates. I’ve…shared some about the guys I see. I just don’t share when, on the rare occasion, I let one in my bed. I assume Ethan’s doing the same. We each lean on the other about why the people in each other’s lives is completely wrong for the other and why.
Long distance, I’ve forced him to consume tubs of ice cream when I need him to commiserate about my dates and he’s demanded I join in on whiskey nights when he needed to bitch about “—ditching some bitch.” Like tonight. “Christ, Fal, she went cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.”
The burn the whiskey made as it came through my nose when he drops that line made my eyes tear up. “What did this one do?”
He goes on to explain how she unplugged all the cords in his office and used them to tie herself in some ritualistic bondage in front of the desk. “In front of the plate glass window on Main Street?” I screech.
“None other. And of course people took pictures of that shit and kept trying to post it to social media. Want to guess how I’ve been spending my day?”
“Deleting any dick pics she had possession of?” I smart, trying to tamper down the seed of jealousy that always arises.
“Do I look that stupid, Fal?” he snarls.
“Listen, if she was disturbed enough to be naked…”
“I haven’t had any woman in a manner long enough for her to get a dick pic, Fallon.” His voice drips ice.
“Well, excuse me for asking. Why else would someone tie themselves naked to the front of your store?” I hiss.
“Perhaps because they’re insane.” His voice could chill the burn from Szechuan chicken.
I mumble, “Insane over your cock.”
There’s a splash, a guzzle, then a slam before he shouts, “Goddamn it, witch! We’ve been so good about not going there with each other.”
Not by my choice. But thank God I keep those words to myself. Instead, I give him his meltdown before I try to bring him back on topic. “I think you’re being nice when you’re saying cuckoo, E.”
“Maybe I’m the one who’s losing it.”
“What? Why’s that?”
He mumbles something under his breath that involves being hexed. All I can do is smile and sip my drink while Ethan gets himself smashed and continues to fight the evils of social media against the drama of a woman who feels she’s been scorned.