Chapter 59

MAY. 'Get your freak on,' Ginny’s message reads. “What’s that?” Ethan asks me, and I turn the screen over, hiding it away from him. “Nothing.” His eyes drop to my phone, then rise back to my cheeks that are no doubt as red as the sauce on my plate, and he looks back at his work tablet, flipping through the pages. I watch his fingers as they flex across the screen. His nails are white and clean, his skin smooth as a newborn, save for the pretty dark hair trailing up his skin. Ethan has rich man's hands. I know it’s a silly stereotype, but Ginny had me noticing a few things when I started working the bar. Their hands. Their nails. The movement. It's always the richest customers who tipped that have the cleanest fingers. They were the important ones that made Bradley excessively nervous when they came around. It’s an odd thing to notice now, when I’m trying to get my freak on, but it makes me stop for a second. “Did you ever play in the sand when you were little?” I ask softly, noti