Isn't She Lovely (Redemption 0.5)(19)

“Steph?” David asks.

I mutely move aside, letting Ethan step into the tiny apartment, and fiercely resist the urge to run around and pick up the random piles of clothes, the empty beer bottles, and the all-around filth that results when three people share seven hundred square feet.

“Whoa, it’s like a J. Crew catalog just came to life,” I hear Leah whisper.

“Ethan, welcome to my—”

“Home,” David says with an easy smile as he stands and comes to face Ethan. “I’m Steph’s roommate. And you are …?”

“Ethan Price.”

The two shake hands, and I want to karate-chop their hands and request that they not exchange words. My two worlds are colliding, and it’s … weird.

I notice that Ethan doesn’t identify his role in my life, and from the slight narrowing of his eyes, I see that David notices as well.

David was a semi-jealous boyfriend—ironic, since he’s the one who strayed. I just hope to God he isn’t going to prove to be a jealous ex as well.

“David, you’re missing the movie,” Leah says, oblivious as ever to the slight tension in the room.

Ethan catches my eye and wiggles his eyebrows. “The foreign vagina?” he mouths, careful not to let David see.

I ignore him. “How did you find me?”

“When you were on the phone with your bank the other day, you gave them your updated mailing address.”

“And what, you memorized it?”

He taps his temple. “Steel trap, Kendrick. Nothing escapes.”

“And yet you’re apparently selective about what goes in,” I mutter, thinking of the futile hours I spent rambling at him only to realize that he hadn’t absorbed a single fact.

David is still watching us carefully. “Dude, you’re stalking her?”

“At least I’m not cheating on her,” Ethan says, never losing the white smile.

I pinch Ethan’s arm hard before moving between them. “David, you don’t get to be protective anymore. And Ethan, why don’t we sit down and discuss the project.”

Translation: Let’s sit down and you can explain why you’re invading my personal space.

David reluctantly goes back to Leah on the couch, and Ethan joins me at the kitchen table. There are four chairs, and he needlessly picks the one closest to me, rather than the one across from me, which makes way more sense.

“What is going on?” I hiss.

His eyes skim my face briefly. “You still wear all that black stuff on your eyes, even when you’re sitting at home in sweats?”

I flutter my eyelashes. “Well, one never knows when one can expect gentleman company.”

Actually, the truth is, I feel naked without my eye makeup. It’s stupid, but I always imagine that the gunmetal-gray shadow and the black eyeliner are my shields against prying eyes.

A sympathetic expression flits across Ethan’s face, and I have the oddest sensation that he’s on to me.

“So I had an idea for our screenplay,” he says, reaching out to fiddle with one of my earrings.

I jerk back at the unexpected touch. “What are you doing?” What game are you playing? “Continuing the charade from the other day,” he whispers. His fingers move down to my collarbone, and I get goose bumps. I shoot him a murderous look, but he’s glancing at David, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the two of them are having a male staring contest like a couple of simpleminded bucks.

“What charade?” I ask stupidly, my brain struggling to process anything as the pad of his finger finds the sensitive skin along my neck.

“The one where I pretend to be your sexy stallion of a boyfriend to protect you from creeps,” he says out of the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t need protecting from David. Five minutes ago he was playing with Leah’s basketball boobs,” I whisper, grateful that Leah plays her movies obnoxiously loud.

“Well, he doesn’t like having me here.”

“Neither do I,” I hiss. But I sneak a look over my shoulder all the same. Sure enough, David has lost all interest in the movie and in Leah and is watching us like a jealous boyfriend.

“Don’t piss him off.” I turn back to Ethan. “The last thing I need is him kicking me out because he thinks I have a new boyfriend.”

But Ethan doesn’t respond. Instead he’s staring at me with this lovey-dovey expression that I know is all for David’s sake but which kind of makes me feel fluttery anyway, and I finally bat his hand away from where it’s playing with the tips of my hair.

“You have two minutes to explain your new screenplay idea to me, then I’ll take two minutes to tell you why it sucks. Which means you should be back on your way to Park Avenue within five minutes.”

“I don’t live on Park.”

“Madison?”

“No.”

“Lex?”

Ethan remains silent, and I give a smug smile. I did my online research. The Price family is old money. Really old money. There’s only a handful of streets that they’re likely to live on.

“I don’t live with my parents anymore,” he says, out of nowhere.

I reach for my water bottle. “Do they live on Park?”

His eyes fall on the table. “Yeah.”