THE JOB
The next day, straight up 5 p.m., I hear the doorbell ring and my heart leaps. “Oh, God! It’s Ethan!”
I rush to the door and stand on my tippy toes, looking through the peephole. Quickly, I run my fingers through my hair and straighten my top. Can’t let him see me looking a fright.
I swing the door open and he’s standing there, devilishly handsome, holding a key between his fingers and carting a smile. “Here you go,” he says. “I won’t be home until six in the morning.” Curiosity flashes in his eyes as he glances over my head. “Where’s your brother?”
“Jeff’s pulling a double shift. He slept at the hospital last night.”
A faint line appears between Ethan’s brows, “Oh, yeah. Those are the worst.” He slips his hands in his pockets casually. “Well, gotta run! Don’t touch my Xbox,”
