Page 69 of Paging Dr. Hart
We can’t. I don’t want to get in trouble.
Ethan snorts derisively when he reads my response.
How could you get in trouble? No one knows us here. Who’s going to tell? I want to go to Epcot early!
Good point. Everyone here is focused on the presentation. Who would notice if we left?
Ethan’s already shoving his papers into his bag when I write back.
Okay. Let’s go.
Giggling like school kids, we burst out of the hotel lobby doors and into an overcast Orlando day. Fluffy gray clouds drift and swirl overhead. It’s dry for now, but the air smells metallic. A rainstorm is coming.
“Look,” says Ethan, pointing, “there’s a bus about to leave for Epcot. Let’s catch it.”
A large red bus with a huge Mickey Mouse face plastered on its side sits idling in the roundabout in front of our hotel. It looks like it just arrived, with a long line of passengers waiting to enter.
Ethan starts toward the bus.
“Wait.” I place my hand on his chest, stopping him. “Should we go upstairs and change first?”
“And miss the bus? Who knows how long we’d have to wait for the next one? Let’s go now.” He’s all anxious excitement, a kid on Christmas morning.
“But I’m wearing a skirt.” I gesture at my body.
A suggestive grin spreads across Ethan’s face. “And you’re wearing it quite well, if you don’t mind me saying.” He pretends to lean around and stare at my backside. Apparently, he still has a thing for sexy librarians.
“Ethan!” I swat his arm, laughing.
“Do you need to go back? I guess you should change your shoes.” He glances at my sensible low heels, a frown of concern wiping away his crooked smile.
“No, it’s fine. These shoes are surprisingly comfortable,” I tell him honestly.
The last of the line of people is boarding the bus.
“Great. Let’s go.” Ethan holds out his hand. I take it and together we run to catch the bus. We get there right before the driver closes the door. He lets us in with a disgruntled stare.
Squeezing past standing bodies and baby strollers, we move to the back. At the next stop, most of the people exit, so we sit down. I push my fingers through my hair, separating it strand by strand. The damp Florida humidity makes it curl. “I feel so naughty. I can’t believe we just skipped out on the rest of the lectures like that.”
Ethan quirks an eyebrow at me. “What? You never did that before? Skipped out on classes, back in high school and college, to go have some fun? Didn’t you ever lie to your mom and sneak out of the house?”
Shaking my head, I answer, “When my mom was sick and right after she died, I missed a lot of school, but I never ditched for fun.”
I don’t tell him about how I may not have ditched school, but I definitely have snuck around. All those nights of lying to my mom and Mr. Chen when I went to the Strip. How would Ethan react if I mentioned that? Would he push me away with revulsion? Reject me? I can’t keep him in the dark forever, but the thought of losing his respect and trust is too painful.
Chuckling, he says, “Well, we’re going to have to change that. Priority number one is making sure Tiffy has the best day ever so she won’t feel guilty about missing the lectures.”
His arm lays draped along the back of my seat. When I shift back, Ethan doesn’t move. Instead, he curls his fingers so they gently brush the top of my shoulder. Just a casual touch, so small, and yet my breath catches at the sensation.
The bus rumbles along the street. I angle my body toward him. “I like that plan. It can’t betoomuch fun though. Otherwise, I might just skip the rest of this conference.”
“Now you’re giving me a challenge,” teases Ethan.
“Uh-oh.” I laugh. “You’re going to ruin me, aren’t you?”
“I certainly hope so.” Ethan’s giving me that dark sexy look again and the way he says it, like it’s a promise for later, sends a tingle deep into my lower stomach.
The bus jolts to a stop, and it’s time to get out. After we scan through the gates, I lead us deeper into the park. Ethan’s silent at my side as we walk. There’s a thoughtful, almost sad expression on his face. Eventually, he says, “I’m sorry your mom passed away. I was thinking about how difficult that must’ve been for you.”
