If life could screw me overandbe extra about it, it would.
Ethan Barbanel of the Chair stared at me with a kind of horrified delight. “Good to meet you,” he said. “I feel like we already know each other.”
Dad beamed.
“Hi.” I refused to crack a smile. This was impossible. The picture I’d drawn in my mind of Ethan Barbanel was a serious, studious guy with good taste in music and pretentious taste in literature. Not a laid-back bro who liked making out with strangers.
Dad cleared his throat. “I just took Jordan by Golden Doors to drop her things off.”
“Right.” Ethan gave me the same laser-focused attention he’d trained on my lips just a few hours ago. A delighted realization crept over his face. “Because you’re staying with us all summer.”
Fuck. I’d already been horrified by the concept of staying in the same house as Ethan Barbanel. To realize I’d be staying in the same house aftermaking out with himwas tantamount to being told I had to room with a succubus—sexy and soul-sucking at the same time.
Ethan looked fixed on the sexy possibilities. “How’d you like Golden Doors?”
It’s a house, I wanted to say bitingly, something to make it clear exactly what I thought about rich people with summer homes. But Dad looked so hopeful, wanting me to behave—wanting us all to get along. I tried not to sound too grudging. “It’s nice.”
Ethan’s lips curved. Golden Doors vaulted so much beyond nice, the understatement sounded comical. “Sorry I wasn’t there to meet you.”
“Yes, Ethan, didn’t you also come in on the ferry today?” Dad looked back and forth between the two of us. “You might have been on the same one!”
Ethan looked at me to see if I wanted to lob that back. My smile tightened. “Could have been.”
“I’m sure I would have noticed,” Ethan said. “Not too many people in all black in this heat.”
My smile calcified. He hadn’t been making fun of my outfit when he stuck his hand up my shirt.
“Jordan’s always had her own fashion taste,” Dad said blithely, as though I had single-handedly invented the dark academia trend.
We were, blissfully, interrupted by our server, who took our orders—which turned out to be nigh identical: Impossible burgers with sweet potato fries for Ethan and me, and with a side salad for Dad, who was supposed to be watching his cholesterol. I frowned. “You should have ordered the salmon. Just because it’s vegetarian doesn’t make the burger good for you.”
“We had salmon last night,” Ethan said, which made me want to punch him. Why washethe one hanging out with my father?
Though I guess I should be happy if he also watched Dad’s cholesterol.
Dad’s cell rang. When he saw the caller, his face brightened. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.” He picked up his phone and walked away. I watched him go, wondering why his face had lit up. A date? A crush?
When I looked back at my tablemate, Ethan Barbanel smiled at me. “So.”
I scowled and plopped my chin in my hands. I hadlikedhim. He had made me giddy and made me laugh and made a kaleidoscope of butterflies dart about my stomach. “So.”
“You’re Tony’s daughter.”
“And you’re Ethan Barbanel.”
He leaned his chair back on two legs. It’d serve him right if he fell over backward. “I don’t think I would’ve made out with you if I knew who you were.”
Hard same. Still, memories of a few hours ago rose—how very happy he’d made me, how good he’d been at kissing. I shunted them away and gave him a sharp smile. “Why not?”
“I dunno. Seems a little…disrespectful?”
What? “To who? I hope you don’t mean because of mydad.”
He stifled a laugh. “No. I guess I meant—it’s different to hook up with a stranger than with someone you know.”
I couldn’t have agreed more. Strangers were devoid of complications. Ethan Barbanel came with enough complications to flatline me.
“You’re not what I expected,” he continued.
