“Hi.”
Neither of them said anything for a beat. She pulled another makeup wipe out of the pack and swiped it across her eyelid.
“You can come all the way in, if you want.”
He cleared his throat and shut the door behind him.
“You, um. That was incredible.Youwere.”
She smiled a little, looking down at the counter.
“Thanks.”
She pulled the pins out of her complicated updo and unwound her hair. It was longer than he remembered, almost reaching her waist. He couldn’t decide if it made her look more like a princess from a fairy tale or the jealous enchantress who would lock the princess in a tower. From the way the movement hypnotized him, coupled with the dangerous look in her eyes, he was leaning toward enchantress.
She stood up, keeping her back to him, and swept her curtain of hair forward over her shoulder.
“Can you unbutton me? These costumes are impossible.”
His heart hammered in his chest. She turned her head and met his eyes again, challenging this time. He stepped forward and fumbled with the seemingly hundreds of tiny pearl buttons fastening the back of her blouse. Between the familiar scent of sweat on her skin mixed with her shampoo, and the curve of her neck bared inches from his mouth, it was a miracle that he was able to unbutton a single one.
When he was finished, she looked up at him pointedly, and he turned around as she disrobed.
Her whole aura was different than he remembered; her, but not her. Aloof. Icy. Maybe she was still shaking off lingering traces of her character. Maybe she’d changed completely since he’d last seen her. Maybe she just had her guard up around him. He couldn’t blame her for that last one.
“Why are you here?”
The question came while his back was still to her. It was easierto talk to her like this, though the image of her naked behind him conjured by the rustling fabric canceled out any comfort it brought him.
“After the reviews you got? I couldn’t miss it.”
He heard the sound of a zipper, followed by a heavy exhale.
“Don’t do this to me, Ethan. If you want to talk, let’s talk. But if you just came here to fuck with me, I’m not interested.” Her hand was on his shoulder so unexpectedly he almost leapt out of his skin. He turned to face her. She was dressed in jeans and a turtleneck, arms crossed, armored from head to toe.
“I’m not here to fuck with you.” He swallowed. “Is there somewhere else we can go?”
“There’s a bar around the corner that’s usually pretty quiet. Do you want to go get a drink?”
He shifted his weight. “Sure. I just, um. I don’t do that anymore. Drink, I mean.”
For the first time, he caught a glimpse of the Grey he remembered, as surprise and relief flickered over her face.
“Oh. Oh, um. That’s great.”
“We can still go there, if you want. It doesn’t bother me. I just thought you should know.”
She glanced to the side, twirling the ends of her hair around her fingers.
“Do you want to come to my place tomorrow? It’s my day off, we can have dinner or something. Have a little privacy.” She looked up at him again, unexpectedly vulnerable. “Unless you think that’s a bad idea.”
His chest released.
“No. That sounds perfect. I’ll bring dinner. Just tell me where and when.”
She gave a brusque nod, then went back to the counter to grab her bag and coat.
“We probably shouldn’t walk out together. You want to go first?”
