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.” He unscrews the wine bottle, empties it into a short plastic glass.I take a bite of the bread.“Wow, this is good,” I say, trying to cover my mouth.He takes a sip from another bottle and leans over to kiss my neck.“This is nothing.” He kisses me again.“Once I get out of high school, I’m off to Paris.Then someday I’ll open a restaurant.Maybe even be on TV like your dad.”I take another bite.This is good.“Hmph …” I swallow and wipe my mouth with one of the creased linen napkins 252he’s brought.“Trust me, though—you don’t want to be like my dad.”“Why not? He’s a great chef.That’s what I want to be.”He is serious.“Well, he’d probably hire you at the restaurant, if you want to see what it’s really like.” I snicker.“They’re always hiring busboys.He might even let you help in the kitchen after a while, if you’re lucky.” I roll my eyes.Ethan shrugs.“I don’t want to be a busboy.I just want to cook.” He slathers more pesto on another piece of bread, and I am so hungry I completely scarf it down.“And you should be at least a little excited.I mean, you’ve got it made.Your dad is going to be famous.” I look at him; I’m ready to bust up laughing.But he’s serious.“Sounds like you’d rather have him here than me.” I smile.He reaches around my waist.“Not by a long shot.” He leans in and runs a finger along my jawline.But all of a sudden, a clear vision of Jack materializes in my mind.I can feel Jack’s touch, his kiss, and I pull away from Ethan.“So.Did Haley stay long? The other night?”He sits up straight, pulls his arm away.“I thought we settled that.” He finishes his mini-bottle in one big gulp.“Look,” he says.“I’m sorry.I know you guys have a history.But me and her.we’re through.So you don’t have to worry.”He tries to kiss me, but I back away again.253“Good.” I wonder what she’s told him.“Because she is not a nice person.I can’t stand her.”“Wow, Sheridan Wells actually dislikes someone? And all along I thought you were the town sweetheart?”“What’s that supposed to mean?”He laughs.“Relax.Haley, she’s just wicked jealous of you.”“Of me?”“Well.You are the most famous person in St.Mary, next to your dad.Everyone knows Cake Girl.She hates that.”“No one knows me.” I pick up the cup of wine, put it back down.Look up at the sky, where the stars are shining again, like they always seem to do whenever Ethan is around.“Well, I’d like to get to know you better.” He leans backward onto his elbow and tugs at my sleeve until I follow.Now I’m lying on my back, with Ethan gazing down at me like I’m some treasure he’s just discovered.He reaches across my body, grabs my hand, laces his fingers through mine.I can see his profile in the moonlight, and I realize that a month ago, a date with Ethan Murphy was a fantasy.I never imagined it could really happen, or that if it did happen, I’d spend the whole time thinking of Jack.Ethan presses his lips on top of mine.His mouth tastes like wine, which isn’t entirely unpleasant, and now he’s kissing me harder.I try desperately to focus on the hot boy whose mouth is exploring mine.He moves on to my neck, and I start feeling tingly and floaty.This is nice.He un-254tangles his fingers from mine and touches my stomach, then moves to the bottom of my coat.I feel his hand on my bare skin.It tickles me and then moves upward.When he gets to my bra, I reach up and gently push his hand back down.“Ethan.”“What?”“Stop.” I laugh.He kisses me again, more insistent this time.I wonder if he notices that our lips always seem to be just a tiny bit out of sync.“Come on.” His hand is searching for skin again.“Let’s go to my house.”“And?”He shrugs, kisses my face.“Let’s just see.”No.We can’t just see.“Ethan,” I say, surprised by how sure I sound.“I don’t think I’m ready for that.”He kisses me again.“Oh, come on.Why not?”“I don’t know.I’m just not.”He stops, leans back on his elbows.“Okay.Fine.” He sits up quickly, pulls his knees in against his chest.Like he’s having a tantrum.I sit up next to him and wonder what just happened.“Look, I think we make a great couple,” he says sharply.“Me, too.I mean, maybe this is just moving a little fast.”“Okay.” He takes a deep breath, turns to me.“Why don’t you tell me how fast you want to go.”“I don’t know.Not this fast.”255He stands up, stretches his legs in that wonderful Ethan fashion.“Well, I can’t read your mind.I’m trying here.”When I stand up, he grabs the blanket.“Maybe we should do this again after the show.”“Really?” I ask
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