Isn't She Lovely (Redemption 0.5)(20)



This time I don’t feel quite as smug, even though I’m so right it kills me. Because instead of looking smug or gloating about his family’s ridiculously rich zip code, he looks … embarrassed.

“So the screenplay?” I prod.

We’re both ignoring David now, although I can tell by the crescendo of music in the background that the movie is gearing up for its angsty finale. Leah is starting to sniffle, and I know she’s finally figuring out what I’ve known since the opening credits: that this movie isn’t going to have a happy ending. That’s the thing about indie romantic “comedies”: the only one laughing at the end of the movie is the screenwriter.

Ethan’s hand goes back to my hair and he tugs slightly to get my attention. “Okay,” he says. “So I went through the list of Pygmalion-themed movies you gave me and watched them all—”

“You did?” I interrupt. I expected him to go searching on the Internet for the CliffsNotes version.

“Yep.”

“How many did you stay awake through?”

He runs his tongue over his front teeth, considering. “Some of them were pretty bad.”

I don’t deny it. Some of them are pretty bad.

“And that one with the singing? God help me—”

I raise a finger in objection. “Do not touch My Fair Lady.”

“Okay, well anyway … the movies have been set in all sorts of genres and age groups, but so far there’s nothing set on a college campus.”

I shrug. “So? There actually aren’t many movies set on college campuses. Not all moviegoers go to college, so it’s not entirely relatable.”

“Neither is shit set in space, but the nerds are still getting their sci-fi fixes.”

I rub my temples. The guy is choosing now to take up an interest in cinema?

The apartment goes suddenly silent, and I realize that the movie is over. David and Leah peel themselves off the couch—my bed, yay—and turn to stare at us curiously.

“Night, Steph,” Leah says with her usual vapid smile.

“Night,” I mutter. Even though I’m totally over David, it sort of chafes that I’m expected to be civil to the woman who’s sleeping with him, especially since I didn’t even have sex with him (though I was moving in that direction, truly).

Guess he wasn’t able to wait.

“You going to bed soon, Steph?” David asks.

“Yup, just need to give my ‘bed’ time to lose the scent of your ass,” I say sweetly.

But David’s not listening to me and is back to giving Ethan man-glares.

“Hey, Dave, let me ask you something,” Ethan says, draping his hand on the back of my chair as he rocks his own chair back on two legs. “Before you hooked up with the ginger, did Stephanie ever make this weird bobcat noise when you guys, were, you know …”

“Ethan,” I warn.

He ignores me. “She swears she doesn’t realize she’s doing it, but it’s kind of hot and distracting at the same time. I never know if she’s in heat or—”

I kick at the legs of his chair, hoping to send him sprawling on his ass, but he sees me move and clamps a hand on my knee before I can make contact.

David, thank God, opts not to engage and retreats to the bedroom, closing the door with a communicative slam.

“You happy now?” I say, glaring at Ethan.

He shrugs. “Revenge for your comment about the bath bubbles. Plus I can’t stand dudes like that—the ones who treat a girl like shit but still try to mark their territory when a new lion’s on the scene.”

“Okay, what is with all of the Animal Planet references tonight? First the bobcat, now the lion … and you’re hardly a new lion on the scene, by the way. You’re more like—”

His fingers tighten briefly on my knee, and I completely lose my train of thought.

“Like what?”

“Never mind,” I say, ordering myself to break eye contact. Except I don’t.

His hand slowly slides off my leg, and I don’t think it’s my imagination that it lingers. Not that I think the guy’s into me or anything, but this isn’t the first time he’s accidentally-on-purpose touched me and not moved away immediately. And at that stupid party, I would have guessed he was a second away from kissing me.

I feel like I’m in the middle of some game and nobody’s told me the rules.

He clears his throat and gestures at my fridge. David’s fridge. “You mind if I grab a beer?”

“Sure,” I say with a shrug. Anything to get him to stop looking at me just for a second so I can catch my breath.

“So, this Pygmalion thing,” he says, removing the bottle cap and putting it in the garbage. “I’m thinking that we should deal with college-age kids. It’s what we know, and it hasn’t been done in this Pygmalion context.”

I gesture for him to continue, even though I’m pretty sure I’m about to hear an exact duplicate of She’s All That, which was set on a high school campus. When it comes to movies, high school and college campuses are almost interchangeable. Same drama. Same schoolwork. Same insecurities. Same hormones.

I realize that I’ve been studying the pattern of golden hair on his forearms, and jerk my gaze away. His arms, Stephanie? Really?

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