Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet and wandered over to the edge of the water, the award still clutched in his hand. All of a sudden, it disgusted him to look at it.
“Ethan?” Grey’s voice sounded far away.
It felt like he was watching himself from outside of his body as his arm reared back and launched the golden statuette into the pool. It landed with a dramatic splash and sank to the bottom immediately.
He turned around to see everyone staring at him, wide-eyed and frozen.
Finally, Jeff spoke. “You good, man?”
Ethan blinked a few times. He suddenly felt everything he’d had to drink that night hit him all at once. “Yeah. I…um. Sorry. I don’t know…that was— I’m sorry.” He looked back at the pool. Why the fuck had he done that? He was embarrassing himself, embarrassing Grey. Giving Nora more ammunition against him. He needed to fix it, fast.
In a haze, he stripped off his shirt and kicked off one of his shoes. He took a couple of unsuccessful passes at removing the other one, before giving up and leaping into the pool still wearingit.
The statuette had landed in the shallow end, so it was easy enough to retrieve it. He laid it on its side on the tiled edge of the pool, his sodden jeans weighing him down as he clumsily hoisted himself out. He straightened up and looked back at the group expectantly—but their expressions seemed even more stricken than before.
Grey stood up and walked over to him slowly, like she was approaching a skittish horse. She spoke quietly, so the others couldn’t hear.
“Why don’t you get those clothes off and get in the shower. I’ll see you inside.”
He couldn’t do anything but nod. As he trudged back toward the house, his jeans and single waterlogged shoe squelching and dripping with every step, he heard Grey’s apologetic murmurs tothe others. Though the air was chilly, made even chillier by his wet clothes, shame heated him from the inside out. The rest of them would be gone by the time he was out of the shower, that much he was sure of. The only thing he cared about was whether Grey would be gone, too.
THE NEXT MORNING, GREY’S HEADwas pounding before she even opened her eyes. She noted with resentment that it felt like she’d had more hangovers in the months since she’d met Ethan than in the last few years combined. As she rolled over, however, her annoyance receded at the aroma of sautéed garlic and onions wafting into the bedroom.
She stretched over to the empty side of the bed and wrapped her arms around Ethan’s pillow, trying and failing to ignore the pieces of the night before that had already begun to filter in. They’d barely spoken between when their guests had left and they’d gone to bed. There hadn’t been a point. Neither of them were in any condition to discuss anything more complicated than who was hogging the duvet. And now she was already second-guessing if it had even been as bad as she remembered. If the worry and embarrassment she’d felt when he’d jumped into that pool, wild-eyed and half clothed, was just magnified through the fog of wine and the comedown of the morning after.
Were they going to fight about it? Did they have to? She’d never fought with Callum—that is, until he’d cheated on her—but she’d realized in retrospect that that was because you had to actuallycareabout what the other person did in order to have a problem with it. Arguing was part of being in a relationship, perfectly healthy and normal, or so she’d heard. You needed to drain the poison before the wound could heal.
She heard the door open, followed by Ethan’s footsteps, but didn’t roll over until she felt his weight on the edge of the bed. He’d pushed the blackout curtains back, and she squinted against the light streaming in from the window. He didn’t say anything, just handed her a glass of iced coffee.
Grey took it from him and scooted up until her back was against the headboard. She sipped it, studying him. He had the apprehensive expression of a little boy who’d accidentally broken a window and was waiting to see how badly he would be punished.
“Breakfast should be ready soon. I made, like, a casserole-hash-egg-potato-cheese thing. It might be a mess but hopefully it’s edible, at least. Do you want to eat outside, or should I make a tray?”
She cocked her head. “Aren’t you hungover?”
“Oh, extremely,” he replied cheerfully. She was so taken aback that the only thing she could do was throw her head back and laugh, the anxiety in her chest popping like a balloon. “Yeah, I feel like I’m going to fucking die right now,” he continued, trying unsuccessfully to keep a straight face.
“Well, I extra appreciate it, then.”
“It’s the least I can do.” He paused. “After last night.”
She took another sip of her coffee, her smile fading. At least he’d brought it up first. “Whathappenedlast night, Ethan? What was that?”
He looked down into his own mug. “I have no idea.” Heglanced back up at her, his brow furrowed. “I know that’s not a good answer. I’ve been trying to put the pieces together all morning. I don’t know what I was thinking. Iwasn’tthinking. All I know is that I’m sorry. Last night should’ve been about you, not my dumb little tantrum.”
“It’s okay.” She wasn’t sure if it was okay, even as she said it. Mostly she was just relieved that it didn’t seem like they were going to fight after all. He understood that he was in the wrong, he was sorry, he was making her breakfast to apologize, and they could move on. She set her coffee on the bedside table and slid back down until her head was on the pillow again.
“How much time do we have before breakfast is ready? Come back to bed.”
He smiled, putting his mug next to hers before crawling onto the bed beside her. “A few minutes. But you better not take advantage of me in my delicate condition.”
She grinned as he lay back, lifting his arm so she could rest her head on his chest. “Never.”
“I mean it. This is a no-thrust zone.”
She closed her eyes, unable to handle the light for another second. “I’m not exactly dying to be thrusted, either. Honestly, just the idea is making me nauseous.”
“Ouch.”
