"I'm not stressed," Ethan snaps, shaking off her hand. His focus returns to me. "I just find it interesting how people pretend to be something they're not.Charlie's always been risk-averse. Wouldn't even try surfing in Hawaii because she was afraid of sharks."
"Thereweresharks," I point out. "The beach was literally closed due to shark sightings."
"My point exactly," Ethan says with a dismissive wave. "Always finding an excuse to play it safe. So forgive me if I find this sudden adventurous streak... suspicious."
The table has gone quiet. I can feel everyone watching this exchange like it's a tennis match. Emily looks ready to lunge across the table, Olivia's mouth drops open and Addie doesn't even pretend not to be filming this on her phone.
"Charlie was amazing today," Bash says, his voice casual but carrying an edge. "Natural talent. She tackled terrain that would make most first-timers run for the lodge."
Ethan scoffs. "Right. I'm sure she was."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, heat rising to my face.
"It means," Ethan leans forward, "that some people will say anything to get laid."
A collective intake of breath around the table. My mother makes a small, distressed sound.
"Ethan!" Mrs. Harper scolds, but he ignores her.
"What?" Ethan's eyes narrow at Bash. "I just don't appreciate someone coming in and pretending my ex-girlfriend is suddenly Lindsey Vonn when we all know she would spend most of our ski trips reading smut books by the lodge fire."
"Maybe she just needed the right partner," Bash says, his tone light but his eyes hard. "Someone who encourages her instead of tearing her down."
Ethan's face darkens. "And I suppose you think you're that partner?"
"I know I am."
"You don't know shit about Charlie," Ethan snarls. "You've been dating what, a few months? We grew up together and we were together for four years."
"And clearly learned nothing in that time," Bash replies calmly.
Ethan stands abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "You want to say that again?"
The restaurant goes quiet, nearby tables turning to watch the scene unfolding. Bash remains seated, maddeningly composed.
"I said," Bash enunciates clearly, "that you clearly learned nothing about Charlie in four years. Which is a shame, because she's extraordinary."
"Stand up," Ethan demands, his face flushed with anger. "If you're going to talk shit, at least have the balls to say it to my face."
With deliberate slowness, Bash unfolds his tall frame from the chair. He doesn't move toward Ethan, just stands his ground, somehow managing to look both relaxed and ready. "I meant every word I said, and I'd be happy to continue this conversation wherever you'd like."
"You want to take this outside?" Ethan challenges, his voice rising. "Because I'm tired of your smug face."
"If that's what you need," Bash says with infuriating calm.
My heart pounds in my chest. This isn't what I wanted. I reach for Bash's hand, but before I can stop this ridiculous testosterone showdown, Mrs. Harper intervenes.
"Ethan James Harper!" Her voice cuts through the tension like a knife. "Sit down this instant. You are making a scene in public, and I raised you better than that."
Ethan remains standing, his fists clenched at his sides.
"I mean it, young man," Mrs. Harper continues, her voice brooking no argument. "Or. You and Olivia should go check out the jazz quartet in the lounge. Now."
For a moment, I think Ethan might refuse. Then his shoulders slump slightly, the fight draining from his posture. "Fine. This dinner was boring anyway." He turns to Olivia. "Let's go."
Olivia rises, smoothing her dress with practiced poise.
They leave, Ethan bumping Bash's shoulder as he passes. Bash doesn't flinch.
