“Fuck off,” she said, glaring daggers.
“Sorry,” he said again, backing out of the room. He made a quick stop to peek in on Alison and Jackson, but they were both sleeping, so with a sigh, he made his way down the stairs and out of his old house.
---
Ethan debated calling Willow that night after he got home, but it didn’t feel right, so he decided to call her the following day instead.
Then tomorrow came and he got a break in a case he’d been working, so he had to go to Detroit.
Three days passed before he was able to ask Willow back over after leaving her holding the bag—literally—outside of his apartment that night while he played house with his own family for a few hours.
She wasn’t saying she was pissed, she wasn’t doing any of the things she normally did when she was pissed, but he felt confident that she must be pissed.
He called her to let her know when he was on his way home, but she sounded unenthusiastic.
“Have you heard if Caleb’s doing any better?” she asked.
He hesitated. Her tone was even and he hated the thought that his children could even possibly be a source of contention between them, but he also felt weird discussing them with her.
“Yeah, he’s all better now.” He barely let a beat pass, then he said, “Anyway, since I’m going to be back tonight, I thought maybe I could cash in that rain check on dinner?”
“I can’t, I have to close tonight, so… it would be a really late dinner.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Let me see what I can do though. Maybe I can work something out and spend the night, if that’s cool with you.”
“Of course, that sounds great.” He offered a smile, even though she couldn’t see it, hoping his enthusiasm would come through his tone. Things had been a little rough for a few days, and he wanted things to warm back up.
Willow stood where she’d been several nights earlier, rapping on Ethan’s door, a bag in her hand.
That time he was prompt about answering, and the mere sight of him warded off any lingering annoyance she’d felt about her last visit.
“Hey, you,” she said, leaning against him and wrapping her arms around his neck, the little brown bag in one hand resting on his back.
He wrapped his arms around her waist but stiffened a bit. “That’s cold. I didn’t know you were bringing something.”
She planted a casual but lingering kiss on his lips, then pulled away, nodding as she opened the bag and peeked inside. “I got there five minutes before they closed. I’m pretty sure they wanted to murder me.”
He reached out and fingered her long pony tail. “I like this.”
She rolled her eyes, smiling. “Work. People have this weird thing about finding long hairs in their food.”
“Go figure,” he returned.
“I know.” She shook her head. “Bunch of princesses.” Willow extracted a circular container of frozen yogurt from the bag. “I wasn’t sure what kind you would want, so I got my favorite.”
“What if I don’t like it?” he teased.
“Then I’m not sure we can be together anymore,” she answered solemnly.
He cracked a smile, and she fought the urge to sigh at his stupid, handsome face.
“What if I love it, and I want to eat the whole thing myself?” he continued, since she only brought one bowl.
“Then you can have it, and I’ll nibble on… other things,” she told him, boldly letting her eyes travel down his body.
“What kind of boy do you take me for?” he joked, taking the container and popping off the lid. “I hope you brought two spoons?”