Maybe

Chapter 59 Under the table

The dining table was filled with the aroma of Mom's cooking, but I could barely focus. Ethan had chosen the seat right beside me, and while Mom was busy venting about the neighbor, Bailey, he had decided to make my life difficult—again.

"I'm telling you," Mom said, her fork pointed like a weapon, "the moment you left, Bailey started dropping by uninvited, asking for the most ridiculous things. Who asks to borrow sugar and then doesn't return the cup?"

"Mm-hmm," I mumbled, nodding like I was completely engrossed in her story.

Ethan, however, had other plans. Under the table, his hand snaked across and held mine firmly, pulling it down before I could grab my fork. I shot him a warning glance, but he looked straight ahead, his expression annoyingly neutral.

"So now she's making these backhanded comments about my garden. My garden! Can you believe that? After everything I've done for her!" Mom continued, completely oblivious to the silence happening next to her.

I wiggled my hand, trying to break free, but Ethan tightened his grip, his palm warm and unrelenting around mine. He casually reached for his glass of water with his other hand, as if nothing unusual was happening.

I leaned closer to him, my voice a sharp whisper. "Let go."

"Make me," he murmured back, his lips barely moving as he took a sip of water.

I tried to tug my hand free, but he only smirked, squeezing my fingers slightly.

"And then Bailey had the audacity to say that I should trim the rose bushes because they're 'too wild.' Too wild! As if she even knows what proper gardening looks like!" Mom was now fully animated, waving her fork in the air.

I took the opportunity to nudge Ethan's knee with mine, hoping he'd get the hint. He didn't. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his grip on my hand unwavering.

"Eat," I hissed under my breath, glancing at my plate helplessly.

"You first," he whispered back, his tone maddeningly calm.

"I'm going to stab you with this fork," I muttered, trying to yank my hand again.

Ethan leaned slightly toward me, his voice low and teasing. "You'd miss me too much."

I glared at him, but the faint smile tugging at his lips told me he was enjoying every second of this.

"And another thing," Mom said, cutting into her food. "She's been leaving her trash bins out for days. It's an eyesore, really. Do you think I should confront her or just call the HOA?"

"Call the HOA," Ethan answered smoothly, finally acknowledging Mom's presence. But his eyes flicked to mine briefly, a spark of amusement in them.

Mom nodded, looking thoughtful. "That's exactly what I was thinking. See? Ethan understands these things."

I rolled my eyes, giving one last desperate tug to free my hand. Ethan chuckled quietly, finally letting go, but not before his thumb brushed against my wrist in a lingering, deliberate motion.

I grabbed my fork quickly, shoveling a bite into my mouth as I shot him one last glare. He, of course, looked completely unbothered, reaching for his plate with that infuriating smirk still on his face.

Mom glanced at me. "You're awfully quiet tonight. Are you even listening to me?"

"Of course, Mom," I said quickly, pretending to be absorbed in my food.

Ethan stifled a laugh, and I kicked him lightly under the table.

After a few bites, he reached for my hand under the table again, his grip firm but playful. I froze for a second, my eyes flicking toward him in disbelief. He met my glare with a maddeningly calm expression, the corner of his lips twitching as if suppressing a laugh.