Ethan chuckled at my story, shaking his head. “That sounds like a classic college experience,” he said, grinning.
I leaned in, curious. “What about you? Any fun stories from your college days?”
Ethan nodded, still smiling. “I studied to be a teacher at the local college in Brookside, about a thirty-minute drive from here. I stayed at home to save money, so I missed out on the dorm life. But there was this one time when they had a big bonfire night, and I decided to go.”
His eyes twinkled with amusement as he recalled the memory. “It was this huge event, with music, drinks, and way too many people crammed into one backyard. My friends convinced me to join them, and things got pretty wild. People were drinking like there was no tomorrow and, at one point, this girl who’d had way too much, threw up on me. Right in front of everyone.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “It was like a record-scratch moment. Everyone around us stopped and stared, and then there was this mix of reactions—some people laughed, some cringed, and a few even cheered like it was some sort of party milestone.”
Ethan grimaced at the memory. “It was mortifying. I ended up standing there, covered in puke, while my friends scrambled to find napkins. The entire scene was enough to put me off partying for a while. After that, I decided that wild college parties weren’t my thing. The whole loud, chaotic vibe just isn’t worth it when you can’t even hold a decent conversation with anyone.”
He paused, then added with a playful grin, “Besides, at twenty-seven, getting messily drunk isn’t exactly a great look. Especially since I work at a school, and everyone knows everyone in this town. I’d hate to end up as the subject of small-town gossip because I couldn’t handle my drinks.”
I laughed, and shook my head in sympathy. “Yeah, that would definitely be a party-killer. I’ve had my fill of the party scene, too. Both in college, and in Cresden. These days, I’m not really into the wild nights anymore.”
We continued to chat, the conversation flowing easily. At one point, our eyes locked, and the conversation naturally paused, leaving a charged silence hanging in the air. We leaned in slightly, as if drawn by an invisible force, the space between us narrowing. Ethan’s gaze dropped to my lips, lingering there for a heartbeat too long, and the air seemed to thicken with anticipation, every breath we took amplifying the intensity of the moment.My skin tingled, aware of every small movement, and the subtle tension building between us felt almost tangible.
Just as the moment seemed poised to escalate, Emily appeared beside our table, her blue eyes blazing with barely concealed irritation. She shot me a sharp glare, her expression hard and unfriendly.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, her tone clipped. She looked directly at me, clearly annoyed, before turning her attention to Ethan. “Do you need anything else?”
Ethan blinked, leaning back in his seat, momentarily flustered. “No, we’re good, thanks,” he replied politely, though I could see a flicker of frustration cross his face.
Emily didn’t miss a beat. “Well, if you change your mind, just let me know,” she said curtly, her tone far from friendly. With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, her steps brisk and agitated.
Ethan’s eyes warmed again, the moment lightening. “Should we grab the bill and head out?”
I nodded, still smiling. “Sounds good.”
As we gathered our things, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. The charged moment we’d shared was interrupted just as it seemed to be leading somewhere, and a part of me wanted to see where that tension would have taken us. But I shook off the feeling, reminding myself that we had a date set for Saturday.
Ethan, ever the gentleman, smoothly picked up the check before I could even glance at it. “This one’s on me,” he said with a charming smile, not giving me a chance to protest. His easy-going nature and thoughtfulness made my heart flutter a little. It was a small gesture, but it made me feel cared for, and it was another reason to look forward to our date.
Chapter 9
WE WALKED SIDE BY SIDE down the street, and I asked, “So, what about your parents?”
We were just off the town square, passing a line of quaint, family-owned eateries. Each place had its own charm—one with checkered tablecloths, another with rustic wooden signs. This little street was tucked away like a hidden gem, perfect for an intimate conversation.
Ethan’s face brightened. “They’re fantastic. My parents still live in the house where I grew up, just a few houses down from my place. I live in the residential area with all the other town folks, but my street leads to a dead-end road. There’s a beautiful hiking trail there that goes right into the forest. It’s great for getting a bit of peace and quiet, and I love that it’s close to nature whilst still being part of the community.”
I smiled, picturing the peaceful setting. “That sounds really nice. It must be great having your family nearby.”
Ethan chuckled. “Yeah, even though I’ve moved out, I still see them all the time. My mom is always trying to teach me how to cook. She says every man should know his way around the kitchen. Last week, we tried making her famous lasagna together. It was a complete disaster—we ended up with sauce everywhere and flour all over me. But it was a lot of fun, and she couldn't stop laughing at the mess we made.”
I laughed, easily picturing the scene. “And your dad?”
Ethan’s eyes lit up with warmth as he reminisced, a soft glow reflecting the affection he held for those moments. “We have this tradition of watching old war movies together. Most Sunday nights, we pick a classic, and just sit back and enjoy. My dad loves to point out all the historical inaccuracies, which drives me crazy, but it’s kind of our thing. He’ll go on these rants about how they got the uniforms wrong, or how that particular battle never happened like that.”
I chuckled. “Sounds like a good time. Your family seems really close.”
“We are,” Ethan said, his voice carrying a touch of pride. “I’m lucky to have them. They’ve always supported me, no matter what. I think that’s why I love this town so much—it’s filled with good memories.”
As we continued walking, he gestured around us, sharing pieces of his past. “Over there,” he pointed to a small park with a well-worn path, “is where I learned to ride my bike for the first time. I was so excited and, a few minutes later, I crashed right into that old oak tree.” He chuckled. “I scraped my knee pretty bad, and my mom rushed over with a band-aid and a hug. I think I was more embarrassed than hurt.”
Ethan continued, pointing to one of the colourful houses along the street. “And that house over there,” he said with a nostalgic grin, “belongs to Eddie’s parents. He’s been my best friend since kindergarten. Every Saturday, I’d head over to his place, and we’d spend the whole day in his backyard. They had this epic treehouse, and it was our own little kingdom.We used to pretend we were pirates, or secret agents on a mission. We even had a secret password to get in, though I can’t for the life of me remember what it was now.”
He chuckled, the memory clearly bringing him joy. “We spent entire summers up there, reading comics and trading baseball cards. It was our escape from the world. But last year, we had to tear it down because of termites. It was a real bummer. Felt like saying goodbye to an old friend.”
