Page 137 of Vows We Never Made
It’s August now.
I haven’t seen her since around the Fourth. I almost forgot she existed.
I stare at her, waiting impatiently as she raises her hands to cup her elbows.
I’m so not in the mood.
I’m not sure what made me sleep with her in the first place.
She’s pretty enough, yeah.
A soft round face with that curly brown hair and big amber eyes, but she looks like a spooked colt whenever I look at her. I’m surprised she mustered up the nerve to come chew me out at all, or whatever she’s planning.
“Hey, Ethan,” she says hesitantly.
My glare deepens, a frown pulling at my lips.
The last thing I need right now is drama. I might’ve archived our little fling in my memory, but now it’s all coming back.
The cringe way her family was desperate to encourage the relationship the moment they saw us together. One whiff that we were a couple had her mother showing up at the house, armed with more blueberry pies than Gramps and Holden could ever choke down.
We started giving them to the help so they wouldn’t go to waste.
Like I said,cringe.
She’s still been poking me by text every week or two, but I decided early on I wasn’t into her.
It’s not like I can’t find amazing sex with passable girls anywhere. The last thing I need is some needy Portland girl wanting some stupid distance thing—or worse, begging me to take her back to NYC.
“So you’re not going to talk?” she asks shyly when I don’t respond. “You’ve been ghosting me half the summer after… you know.”
“Yeah, about that… Look, Tay, I think you’ve got the wrong idea.” I glance back at the ocean, weirdly uncomfortable with the way she’s looking at me. There’s an intensity in her eyes I don’tlike. I decide to let her down easy. I try. “Thing is, I’m not looking to settle down at this point in my life. I have a busy time coming up, a lot of shit to sort out once I get home. This might be my last trip to Portland for a while. Sorry.”
“Ethan, we need to talk.”
Why does her voice sound so strained?
“We really don’t. I just tried to be nice.” I push up to my feet. “I think we’re done here.”
I really don’t have the patience for an ugly scene.
She’s blocking me on the narrow dock, though, wearing a cute little summer dress I peeled off her one hot night a couple months ago.
And those goofy-ass pink flip-flops, one size too big.
I start to walk past her, but she grabs my arm.
“Ethan, wait!” There’s a desperation in her voice that makes me uncomfortable. “Just hear me out. Please.”
Her fingers are digging into my flesh.
I’m not violent, definitely not with women, but fuck, this whole thing makes my skin crawl.
WhereisHolden Fuckface? Isn’t it his job to protect this house and keep annoying people away?
Now would be a good time for him to barge in like he always does and escort her away with a few polite, gruff words.
…what am I supposed to do if she won’t leave me alone?
