I tell him about my parents, who live in Florida and call me once a week to ask when I'm going to get a "real job." I tell him about my best friend from college who moved to New York and keeps begging me to visit. And, I tell him about my big sister, who passed away.
He tells me about growing up with a widowed mom who worked double shifts to keep them afloat. About his sister, who was his best friend and biggest cheerleader, and his other younger siblings, who he loves dearly. About losing his father and the weight of responsibility that came with being the man of the house.
"That's a lot for a kid," I say softly.
"It was. But it taught me resilience. And it made me who I am."
"Do you ever resent it? The responsibility?"
"Sometimes." He's quiet for a moment. "But mostly I'm grateful. For my mom. For Claire. For my three younger brothers. For the life I've built."
"You're close to them."
"Very. They're everything to me."
I smile. "That's why this party matters so much."
"Exactly."
By the time I glance at my phone, it's nearly midnight.
"Oh my God," I say, standing. "I didn't realize how late it was."
"Stay."
I freeze. "What?"
"Stay," he says again. "It's late. You've had wine. I have guest rooms."
"Ethan..."
"I'm not asking you to do anything you're not ready for, Lily. I'm asking you to be safe."
And just like that, my resolve crumbles.
"Okay," I say. "I'll stay."
He shows me to a guest room that's bigger than my entire apartment. There's a king-sized bed, an en suite bathroom, and a view of the garden that's probably stunning in daylight.
"If you need anything, I'm just down the hall," Ethan says.
"Thank you."
He lingers in the doorway. "Goodnight, Lily."
"Goodnight."
He closes the door, and I sink onto the bed, my heart racing.
What am I doing?
I pull out my phone and text the group chat.
Lily: I'm staying at his house tonight.
The responses are immediate.
Madison: WHAT?
