Exhaling, Milly rolls off of Ethan. She smiles at his cracked plaster ceiling.
“Girl”—he pats his mattress with a grin of admiration—“you are gonna wear me out.”
“Isn’t that the point? We’re done when we can’t anymore.”
“I never thought about it like that.” He gazes at her. “What do you do, anyway? Your job.”
“Finance”—her stare fixates upward—“mostly business to business.”
“You keep odd hours.”
“My manager’s international.”
“What is it you like about me?”
She turns her flushed face to his, then reaches down under the sheet towards him.
He chuckles. “Besides that.”
“Every person has two sides, like a record. Confidence, talent, the Ethan who approached me on the train — on that side, you remind me of my ex.”
Ethan groans.
“But on the other side, you’re different. When you don’t get your way, you blame yourself. In the hallway of the club, our first night, you were not above showing me your pain. You chose vulnerability. It was like music I’d never heard from a man before. I found it curious — and attractive.”
Ethan’s fingers slide across Milly’s cheek. “How do you feel right now?”
She presses her lips closed and giggles. “Sticky.”
“That’s not”—he smiles—“exactly what I meant.”
Emotions arrive here intellectually. But it’s in his face. He’s falling in love. Can Milly see?
She looks him in the eye, then sighs. “I know what you’re feeling, Ethan. You’re special. But the French have a saying, something like, ‘You can’t live on only sex and cool water.’ Let’s get some sleep. I have a big work thing.” Eyes falling shut, she rolls away.
Ah, those French...what do they know!