summer romance (e.d.)

forty-five

anna

i feel ethan's eyes linger on me for a second as i bend down and pick up the bracelet i dropped from my slightly shaky hands.

his eyes avert immediately as i stand back up straight, and i laugh. "your eyes, ethan— they're awfully nosy."

"the dress is... nice," he blushes, clearly embarrassed. "sorry. that was weird of me to do."

i laugh. "it is nice, isn't it? it's definitely me, but i feel like your mom would like it too."

there's an event at the club tonight, and lisa invited me, surprisingly. i'm sure ethan had to tell her to, but she did nonetheless.

the dress i'm wearing is a peacock blue, thigh length spaghetti strap cocktail dress. cameron made me borrow it since she said the v-line neck would fit me well.

and ethan seems to like it.

"you should go get ready," i sigh, sitting down next to him on my bed as i test out what shoes i want to wear.

"pfft," he scoffs. "i can get ready in 10 minutes. this is not my first rodeo, an. i'm here for your emotional support."

i laugh, but he's right. i've been nervous all day.

"which shoes?" i ask, my right foot in a pair of basic block heels, and my left in a pair of white wedge sandals that still manage go with the dress.

he gives me a knowing look, a smirk threatening his lips. "anna... you knew which ones you were going to pick before you even asked me..."

"so?" i push further, holding up each foot. "which one?"

"obviously the white ones. you don't wear heels, and those aren't actually heels."

"you're right," i nod. "and why don't i wear heels?"

"what is this? a quiz show?"

"why don't i wear heels?" i ask, playfully threatening with narrowed eyes.

"they make you 'too tall'. your words, not mine," he answers, hands surrendered. "although being 5'8" in heels isn't necessarily that tall."

"it is when you're 5'10."

"i'm six foot!" he argues.

"barely," i snort.

"okay now that's not funny," he warns, sneaking up behind me.

i give him a playful smile. "not funny?" i mocks. "ethan, you might just be the size of my great grandmother. she's about 90 years old and 5'6. did you know that—"

he suddenly picks me up by my waist, and i squeal as he throws me onto my bed. he looms over me with a small smile as i wait for his next move.

"short guys are cool too, e! there's nothing wrong with being short."

"i'm not short!" he argues, trying to stop a laugh from sneaking out.

i reach up and pulls his head down, immediately pressing my lips against his. of course, they taste like mint chapstick.

"did you get me all riled up just so i would kiss you?" he asks, pulling away.

i smirk. "maybe a little. i figured it was the only way without sounding needy."

"never needy," ethan whispers, leaning back down.

just before we kiss again, he pulls back.

"what now?" i whine, squirming under him a little bit.