He tried to clear his throat, but his response still came out in a rasp.
“What?”
Silence.
He paused for another moment, willing her to repeat herself with every fiber of his being. Nothing.Of course you fucking imagined it.She didn’t want him to stay. She was still asleep. She’d wanted his company because it would’ve been awkward for them to try to avoid each other in such close quarters. It didn’t mean anything.
He closed the door behind him and slunk back to the couch. He was too groggy to attempt to pull the bed out, so he shed his clothes, dug a pair of sweatpants out of his suitcase, and stretched out across the cushions.
When had he become so pathetic around women? Or more accurately, one specific woman? Unexpectedly coming face-to-face with his twenty-one-year-old self had been jarring, to say the least. He’d forgotten that he’d slept with both his costars inWhat’s Your Deal?(and several extras) and somehow managed to keep them from finding out until the wrap party, when all hell broke loose. He didn’t miss the callous asshole he’d been in those days,and certainly didn’t miss the drama that inevitably ensued. However,thatEthan would have had Grey naked and screaming his name at the first hint of an opportunity, so maybe he could learn a thing or two from his younger self.
He could already feel himself getting hard at the thought. This was fucking ridiculous. The more he told himself that he needed to leave her alone, the more his body rebelled. It didn’t help that now he knew exactly how soft her skin was, how responsive she was to his touch, how her moans felt in his mouth. He was going to pay for that moment of weakness forever, probably; tormented by the intimate knowledge he had of her, tempted by the prospect of what was still left to discover.
For her sake, he hoped to never find out.
“SO, WHAT ABOUT THOSE QUESTIONS?”
Grey peered over her sunglasses, sure she’d misheard. She’d thought Ethan was asleep: he’d been reclined on the lounge chair next to her with a towel covering his head for the past twenty minutes, still as a corpse.
When she’d come out to the pool late that morning, he’d been swimming laps, his form cutting a powerful swath through the water. She’d originally envisioned herself swanning around their villa in her new bikini, flowy cover-up, and giant hat like a sixties Italian film star. Those same items of clothing felt decidedly less glamorous as she hobbled out on her crutches, trying to juggle her coffee and a pile of scripts. She was thankful his head was mostly underwater as she clumsily arranged herself in her seat.
The scripts were mainly just to kill time; Renata had assured her that she would be getting the offer forGolden Cityany day now. She was ten pages into the one in her lap and was alreadyabout to give up. How was she being sent both “middle-aged suburban mom”and“teenage babysitter” roles?
“What?” she asked, flipping the script shut and tossing it back onto the pile. Ethan pulled the towel off his face and rose up on his elbows next to her.
“Those questions. The love questions. Should we try it?” Her stomach flip-flopped. He was wearing sunglasses, too, so his face was impossible to read.
“You’re not worried?” She felt so ridiculous asking that she couldn’t even fully finish the thought.
He shrugged. “We could come up with a safe word. If we start experiencing any confusing sensations, just say ‘shiitake burger’ and the whole thing’s off.”
She grinned, despite herself. “Maybe we can get one of those spray bottles, like when you’re trying to keep a cat off the furniture. Just a little spritz to the face.”
“Did you pack your electric nipple clamps? That might be a good punishment.”
“Yeah, they’re right next to your fake mustache.”
Ethan laughed and flipped over onto his stomach.
“Is that question thirty-seven? Nipple clamps, yea or nay?” he asked, turning his face toward her and resting his cheek on his folded forearms.
“I think they’re supposed to dig a little deeper than that.”
“Bring ’em on.”
Grey pulled out her phone and searched for the website, a little surprised that he was so into the idea. “We can skip around and do them out of order; maybe the cumulative effect is what leads to love.”
“Whatever feels right.”
She suspected what felt right would be to sink her teeth into the muscles of his naked back, but that probably wasn’t what hemeant. She started to scroll, an involuntary chuckle escaping her lips.
“What?” Ethan said.
She shook her head. “I think I already know the answer to this one.” She read in a singsong tone: “ ‘Would you like to be famous?’ ”
She lowered the phone, expecting him to laugh, too, but he seemed to be taking the question seriously. He propped himself up on his elbows.
“You think I’ll say no, I wish I wasn’t?”
