Track 12 Mine
ETHAN
Ishould’ve known.
“Is something wrong with you, Ethan?” Teresa rubbed my shoulder as I drove to the bus station a couple of weeks later.
“Nothing at all.” I lied. “I’m just thinking about something.”
“Oh.” She blushed. “Is it spending time with me at the lodge this weekend?”
No, it’s spending time with Rachel at the lodge this weekend. “Of course.”
She blushed and leaned back in her seat, and as the bus wound through another snow-covered road, my mind spun with thoughts of Rachel.
It was bad enough that my fantasies of her were completely out of control since she’d moved into my house, that I’d tasted her mouth and wanted more.
But the fact that she made up most of the things in her letters for the first two years when she was away, made me realize that I should’ve called her out on it back then—when I halfway suspected that’s what she was doing.
Since the night she’d told me about her made-up love stories, I’d reread her first two years of letters and looked between all the lines, shaking my head at the obvious plays on book character and author names that I never thought to question.
She’d used Dick Charles (Charles Dickens), Chris Grey (Christian Grey), Jon Grislem (John Grisham) and so many other obvious variations, that I was shocked I never caught it.
A part of me wanted to laugh about it, but another part of me wanted to tell her that sometimes I went extra hard partying and dating because I was trying to keep up with what she was writing to me.
“I’m really excited to spend an entire weekend with you,” Teresa said, kissing my cheek as we pulled into the parking lot.
“Me, too.” I forced a smile and was about to give her one of my standard lines, but I spotted Rachel getting out of someone else’s car. Spotted a guy kissing her on the cheek, then her lips.
This time, I knew it wasn’t a slight pang of jealousy in my chest. This time it was full blown envy.