This makes him smile wider. “Cute in a gross way. Okay.”
The waiter brings his food, and when I look up, I see that Ethan’s smile has fallen and he’s staring over my shoulder, his face ashen. With a frown, he blinks down to his plate.
“Just remembered that bacon at restaurants is ten thousand times more likely to carry salmonella?” I ask. “Or did you find a hair on your plate and think you’re going to come down with lupus?”
“Once more for the people in the back: Being careful about food safety isn’t the same as being a hypochondriac or an idiot.”
I give him a Sure thing, Captain salute, but then it hits me. He’s freaking out about something other than his breakfast. I glance around, and my pulse rockets: Sophie and Billy have been seated directly behind me. Ethan has an unobstructed view of his ex and her new fiancé.
For as frequently as I want to open-hand smack Ethan, I can also appreciate how much it would suck to continually run into your ex when they’re celebrating their engagement and you’re only pretending to be married. I remember running into my ex-boyfriend Arthur the night I defended my dissertation. We were out to celebrate me, and my accomplishment, and there he was, the boy who dumped me because he “couldn’t be distracted by a relationship.” He had his new girlfriend on one arm and the medical journal he’d just been published in in the other hand. My celebratory mood evaporated, and I left my own party about an hour later to go home and binge an entire season of Buffy.
A tiny bloom of sympathy unfurls in my chest. “Ethan—”
“Could you try chewing with your mouth closed?” he says, and the bloom is annihilated by a nuclear blast.
“For the record, it’s very humid here, and I am congested.” I lean in, hissing, “To think I was starting to feel sorry for you.”
“For being cute in a gross way?” he asks, prodding at his plate, glancing over my shoulder again and then quickly zeroing in on my face.
“For the fact that your ex is at the resort with us and sitting right behind me.”
“Is she?” He looks up and does a terrible job of being surprised to see her there. “Huh.”
I smirk at him, even though he studiously avoids my gaze. With the tiny hint of vulnerability just at the edges of his expression, the bloom of sympathy returns. “What’s your favorite breakfast food?”
He pauses with a bite of bacon halfway to his mouth. “What?”
“Come on. Breakfast food. What do you like?”
“Bagels.” He takes the bite, chews and swallows, and I realize that’s all I’m going to get.
“Bagels? For real? Of all the choices in the world, you’re telling me your favorite breakfast food is a bagel? You live in the Twin Cities. Can we even get a good bagel there?”
He apparently thinks my question is rhetorical, because he turns back to his meal, completely happy to blink those lashes at me and remain nonverbal. I realize why I hate him—he food- and fat-shamed me, and has always been a monosyllabic prick—but what is his deal with me?
I give friendly one last try: “Why don’t we do something fun today?”
Ethan looks at me like I’ve just suggested we go on a murder spree. “Together?”
“Yes, together! All of our free activities are for two people,” I say, wagging a finger back and forth between us, “and as you just pointed out, we’re supposed to be acting married.”
Ethan has retreated into his neck, shoulders hunched. “Could you maybe not yell that across the restaurant?”
I take a deep breath, counting to five so that I don’t reach across the table and poke him in the eye. Leaning in, I say, “Look. We’re deep in this lying game together now, so why not make the most of it? That’s all I’m trying to do: enjoy what I can.”
He stares at me for several quiet beats. “That’s awfully upbeat of you.”
Pushing back from the table, I stand. “I’m going to go see what we can sign up for tod—”
“She’s watching,” he cuts in tightly, quickly glancing past me. “Shit.”
“What?”
“Sophie. She keeps looking over here.” In a panic, his eyes meet mine. “Do something.”
“Like what?” I ask tightly, starting to panic, too.
“Before you go. I don’t know. We’re in love, right? Just—” He stands abruptly and reaches for my shoulders, jerking me across the table and planting his mouth stiffly on mine. Our eyes remain open