Boomerang (36 page)

Ethan

Q: How do you like to be kissed: hard, soft or any which way?

I
spot Mia’s Prius just as she swings the door open and bolts out of it. She jumps into my arms, and my duffel slips off my shoulder as I catch her. I kiss her and feel the world fade back.

We’re officially the cheesy airport reunion couple, and I don’t care.

I’m consumed by her. By feeling her body against me, smelling the clean floral scent of her hair, tasting her soft, hungry mouth under mine. Everything becomes
her
, and only a tsunami could bring me back to myself.

Or an LAX parking enforcement attendant.

“Take it somewhere else, you two! I am three seconds away from giving you a ticket
and
having that Prius towed!”

After talking with Alison this morning and telling her as gently as I could about Mia, I decided to fly back on my own. Now Alison’s hurt, which defeats the purpose of us trying to move forward, but I can’t put her first anymore. That place is taken.

“Hi,” Mia says, smiling up at me. “Where to?”

I feel like I can finally look at her without trying to hide anything. I can finally look at her like she’s
mine
. She looks incredible in tight faded blue jeans and a purple sweater. It’s a change from the work clothes I’m used to seeing her in. Sexy in a way that makes me think of long afternoons in bed. Which is going to happen soon and often.

My life just got so fuckin’ great.

“Mind if we stop at the office?” I toss my duffel into the backseat. “I need to grab something.”

With Vegas only days away, my preparations for the trade show are almost finished. I need to pick up the check for Zeke—the final payment for the virtual boomerang game.

Mia’s smile falters.

“What is it, Curls? Work’s not what you had in mind?”

She shakes her head. “No, that sounds
awesome
.”

I grab her hand, stopping her from slipping into the driver’s seat. “Mind if I drive?”

“Sure. But . . . why?”

“Safety consideration. It’s the only way I’ll be able to keep my hands off you for the next half hour.” I bend down and kiss her before she can reply, taking the keys out of her hand.

“How was home?” she asks, hopping in the passenger seat.

“Inebriated in part, but also enlightening.” I pull away from the airport, and we fall into easy conversation. I tell her about my disastrous Friday night, and about how Chris has changed. Then I ask about her weekend and she tells me about Nana, and we go back and forth, catching up. When I tell her about Matt’s visit, Mia drops her face into her hands.

“Oh, God. So your family
and
your former coach know you rocked my world?” she says, her voice muffled.

“Yes, but it was an accident, you see.”

She looks up. “I don’t think I’ve ever embarrassed myself to complete strangers on this scale before. Not even for art’s sake.”

“Well, they’re not really complete strangers.” I’ve told her plenty about my parents and Chris. Despite the bumps we’ve had over the past weeks, Mia knows more about what’s going on in my life than Alison, or even Jason. “And they know a lot about you now. Dinner Saturday night was pretty much a press conference about Mia Galliano.”

Mia smiles. She starts to say something, then seems to change her mind. “I’m glad you got to see your coach,” she says instead, her voice soft with sincerity.

“Thanks.” We’re quiet for a few moments. The silence is comfortable, filled with only the quiet sounds of the road. Then I realize I want to tell her more.

“I never realized how much he influenced me until this weekend. Matt’s always trying to bring out the best in others—it was really apparent to me—and it got me thinking that maybe I got that from him, you know? Maybe I picked that up from him, or maybe that was already part of me and he just sharpened it, as a coach. As someone I had to listen to.”

“That’s the enlightening part of your weekend,” she says, more a statement than a question.

I nod.

Mia rests her head against the car seat and watches me for a few seconds. Then she smiles. “That’s amazing, Ethan.” Her gaze moves out the front window and she grows pensive.

“Nana’s the same for me, I think,” she says after a little while. “She kind of keeps our family history. But it’s more than that. She was part of such a big movement, something so pivotal to where we are today. I think that’s why I want to make this documentary so much. She inspires me, and I always want to be shaped by her. I don’t want her influence on me to ever go away.”

She gives her head a small shake, like she’s said too much, but I could hear her talk this way all day long. She’s smart and funny, and hotter than should be legal, but there’s an old soul inside of her. I want to protect that part of her. I want to stand guard in front of it so it’s always safe.

“You want to hear the
best
part of my weekend?” I ask.

She smiles. “What’s the best part of your weekend?”

“There are actually a few: thinking about you. Getting your text messages. Getting picked up at the airport. Right now . . .” I smile at her. “See anything in common?”

Putting this kind of stuff out there so bluntly is a new thing for me but it feels natural with her. And it’s more than worth the reward.

Mia takes up some slack in her seat belt and scoots up to her knees. She leans over the center console and kisses my cheek. Then she hovers by my ear, and when she speaks, I feel her warm breath.

“If you’re that easy to please, then your weekend’s going to get
much
better. We still have a few hours left.”

I turn and kiss her, managing to steal a taste of her before I have to look back to the freeway.

“You were right,” she says. I see a glint of desire and surprise in her eyes before she settles back into her seat. “We really are a road hazard.”

“I had it covered, Curls.” I reach over for her hand. It feels soft and so small compared to mine. “I’d never put you in harm’s way.”

“Still,” she says. “Making out while we’re going seventy miles an hour is a bad call.”

“Disagree. Dangerous make-out sessions with you give my life meaning.”

“Fair enough, but should we at least try not to?”

“Do or do not. There is no try.”

“Is that one of Matt’s sayings?” she asks, smiling.

I look at her like I’m shocked. “Curls, you
know
that’s Yoda!” Which is true, she does. “And you call yourself a film student.”

“I know. I’m a disgrace,” she says. “So are we doing or not doing?”

“Are you kidding me?” I tip my head, motioning her my way. “Get back over here.”

Mia laughs. Then she scoots back onto her knees, and we kiss again.

Half an hour later, we step into the Boomerang offices. On a Sunday night, with only half the recessed lights on and the expansive glass windows full of night, it’s eerily quiet and dark.

“I asked Rhett to open up for me. He’ll come back later to lock up,” I explain to Mia as we make our way to his office. I don’t bother to flip the lights on; there’s enough light filtering through the glass walls, and we’re only staying for a minute.

The check for Zeke rests on Rhett’s keyboard, just like he promised.

“What’s so urgent that it can’t wait for tomorrow?” she asks, perching on the edge of the desk.

“It’s not the urgency. We just couldn’t risk cutting the check during regular hours. Rhett came in late Friday night to do it.” I’ve told her about the situation with the virtual game and Cookie, so she knows why we had to do it this way. “Zeke and I are driving out to Temecula tomorrow to check out the game before it’s shipped to Winning Displays. From there, it’ll get trucked to Vegas with the rest of the booth.” I hold up the check. “But I need to pay him.”

“Ah,” Mia says, “got it.” But her expression clouds with worry, and I know why.

I drop the check back on the desk and step in front of her, taking her face into my hands.

“This thing with Boomerang,” I say, staring into her eyes, “the competition for the job . . . we’ll figure it out.”

After this stunt I’m pulling with Cookie, I know I’m going to lose the job anyway, and I don’t care. I know how much Mia wants to do the film of Nana, and I don’t see anymore how her winning could feel like my loss.

“But, Ethan, I—”

“It’s going to be all right, Curls. I promise.” Leaning down, I brush my lips against hers. I meant it to be a light kiss, but Mia’s mouth is firm, insistent. Her tongue slips between my lips. I pull her against me, and like the strike of a match, I’m hard for her.

“Ethan,” she breathes, and presses her hips into me.

I pick her up, and her legs wrap around me, linking behind my back. My tongue plunges into her mouth and her arms tighten around me. I’m suddenly seeing images of her laid out on this desk, naked, her legs wrapped around me just like they are now. Me, buried inside of her.

“You can’t tempt me like this, Mia.”

“Why not?”

The office lights flip on, and the brightness is blinding. Raw instinct fires through me, and I get Mia behind me in a quick move.

Cookie stands at the door, tapping her foot.

“Actually,” she says, “I can think of a few reasons.
”

Chapter 47

Mia

Q: Are you easily embarrassed?

T
he light in the office feels bright enough to sear the flesh from my bones but not half as intense as the look of total disgust Cookie directs my way. It takes forever for my mind to process the fact that we’ve been caught. By the worst possible person.

On earth.

She steps into the office and closes the door behind her. Immediately, it feels like she’s sealed off all the oxygen in the place. My throat tightens, and every part of me goes clammy.

“Cookie,” I start to say, but she’s riveted on Ethan.

Smiling, she says, “Well, first of all, you’re fired.”

Oh, God. “No!” I exclaim. “That’s not—”

“Oh, it is,” she says, that satisfied smile glued to her face. “Fair, I mean. That’s what you were going to say, right?”

“If you want to know what she has to say, then let her talk,” Ethan says. He stands there, cool and upright. But I can feel the anger coiled in his body. And I know I’m the cause of it.

Cookie leans back against the door, folding her arms. Her expression challenges him to dig a bigger hole. I can’t let him do it.

“Listen,” I try again.

“I don’t need any explanations, Mia,” says Cookie, though her gaze barely flicks in my direction. For once, she’s not barking her anger, but the chill in her words is much, much worse. “I just need the two of you to leave. And I need not to see Mr. Vance ever again. Seems simple enough.”

“Why only Ethan? Why not—?”

“Fine,” he interrupts. “But answer something for me first.”

“You’re not really in a position to make requests.”

“How did you find out about Alison?”

My whole body heats, and my mouth goes Sahara dry. I reach out to touch his arm, but he moves it just as I make contact, thrusting his hands into the pocket of his jeans.

“You sound like a paranoid lunatic,” Cookie says. “You know that, right?”

“Right. I’m the lunatic. I’m not the one who pried into someone else’s life to try to sabotage his career.”

Cookie snorts. “What career? You’re an
intern
. You were never going to be anything else.”

A flush creeps up his neck, and he steps forward. Cookie shrinks into herself, like she’s scared he’ll get physical with her.

This is awful. I need to put a stop to it. “Please, listen—”

“And you made sure of that, didn’t you?” Ethan says. “You really get off on playing God, right? Once you got tired of threatening Paolo and Sadie, why not move on to me?”

“You have an exaggerated view of your own importance,” Cookie says. “And you’re lucky I’m just firing you. I should have you arrested.”