Isn't She Lovely (Redemption 0.5)(21)

He’s still going on about this screenplay idea, and my ears catch on one particular phrase. A crucial phrase.

“Hold up. Did you just say that the Pygmalion character of this pretend movie is a preppy rich kid and the girl is a short, edgy type with big boobs?”

He grins, although it’s not his usual shit-eating don’t-give-a-f*ck grin, it’s a now-you’re-getting-it gloat.

“Exactly,” Ethan says, leaning back against the tiny kitchen counter.

I take a deep breath. “Okay, I’m going to go ahead and ignore the incredibly shortsighted idea to base our characters on personal experience, and tell you to hurry up and get to the Pygmalion part.”

“Well, I’d be there already if you hadn’t interrupted, but it’s like this. Our incredibly handsome, smart, and all-around good guy of a hero needs a girlfriend.”

“What’s the motivation?”

Ethan’s eyes flit away from mine, and for a second he looks nervous. Even more alarming, he looks guilty. What am I missing here?

He clears his throat again. “Well, I was thinking … what if this guy had been telling his parents that he’s been seeing someone?”

“And why would he do that?”

“Because his ex-girlfriend is the daughter of a close family friend, and his parents are relentless about having them get back together. Good for business and all that …”

I watch him carefully. Warily. “And he’s resistant to get back together with this girl because …?”

His light brown eyes find mine. “Doesn’t matter. We’re done.”

I expect him to be indignant. Sullen. Annoyed. Instead he looks … sad. And all of a sudden I feel in over my head.

Ethan’s not talking about the movie character. He’s talking about himself.

Even worse, I want to ask if he wants to talk about it. I want to be the person he wants to talk to.

But I don’t ask. Instead, I take us back to safer territory. “So he needs a fake girlfriend to get them off his back,” I say. “Surely such a hunk of beefcake would have dozens of female friends anxious for the role of girlfriend.”

“Too anxious for the role of girlfriend,” Ethan mutters.

“You poor, in-demand baby.”

“So you’ll help me? Play the girlfriend?”

And just like that, we drop the facade of the movie altogether. We’re talking about him. And me. We’re talking about us even though there is no us.

I gape at him. “Are you freaking kidding me? You were for real with that garbage?”

He moves quickly, pushing back from the counter and sitting back down beside me. He’s not touching me, but he may as well be for all the heat he’s giving off. I’m annoyed that I’ve noticed.

The last thing I need is to be aware of Ethan Price. Particularly when he’s gone off the deep end about a real-life Pygmalion scenario, one I don’t think I’m going to like. At all.

“You have to admit it’s a good idea,” he says. “Think about how much better our screenplay will be if we can base it on our own experience.”

“To say nothing of what you’ll get out of it,” I say, folding my arms over my chest. “If you want to be a modern-day Pygmalion, have at it, but find some other girl to be your stone statue.”

“Ivory,” he corrects.

I kick him in the shin, and he grins.

“Seriously, find someone else,” I say again, not wanting him to smile at me. Not wanting to smile back.

His grin fades slowly, and he puts his elbows on his knees and rubs his hands through his hair. “I’m going to sound like the biggest prick for saying this, but I don’t know any other girls who won’t get the wrong idea.”

I give him a sympathetic look. “It must be hard. A city with a population over eight million, and not a single female who won’t swoon over you?”

“Sure, there’s one,” he says with a shrug. “You.”

I’m not entirely sure that’s true about me not swooning. Especially when he touches me. But he’s got a point. He’s not my type. And I’m not his. Still …

“What about someone not interested in any men?”

He rolls his shoulders. “A lesbian would work. But I don’t know any. And if I’m going to do this, I need someone I know, at least a little.”

“And you think I’m your best bet? You barely know me.”

He doesn’t say anything, and I press on. “Come on, you can’t tell me that you don’t have buckets of rich, brainy female friends.”

“Sure, but the ones I’m closest to are friends with my ex. The others …”

“Would be too eager to take on the role for real?” I fill in.

He gives a guilty smile.

Gross. There really are girls ready to crawl all over him.

“Why not just tell your parents that you and the fake girlfriend broke up?” I ask. He sighs. “Because then they’d be back on their Olivia-Ethan reunion kick. Plus there’s all this family obligation crap coming up, and Olivia will be there …”

Bingo.

“And you’re not over her.”

He winces, and I know I’ve broken some sort of guy rule by even going there, but for God’s sake, it’s written all over his face.