Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Senior, will you be my girlfriend?" Ethan Davis had played his part so well, I hadn’t realized he’d been pretending to be naive this whole time.

We were in a private theater watching Anne Hathaway’s One Day. I was engrossed in the movie when he suddenly rolled over on the seat, trapping me between his arms in a small space filled with his cologne.

He asked me seriously. I stared at him playfully. "Depends." Then I leaned in and kissed his lips.

Ethan Davis chuckled softly. His breath made the air feel strangely intimate.

"Sophia Miller, you taste so sweet."

It was the first time he’d called me by my full name. I suddenly realized he wasn’t just a innocent underclassman. He’d been in control of how our relationship progressed the whole time. The best hunters often disguise themselves as prey.

He’d noticed me in that confession wall photo—back when the popular girl in my class posted it.

Love at first sight really works, huh?

"I underestimated you."

I was woken up from my dream by Olivia Wilson, who told me to get up and eat breakfast. She’d been living with me for a month since fighting with her boyfriend. She also asked, "What were you dreaming about? Your face is all red." I touched my cheek subconsciously—it was burning.

"Ouch..." I took a bite of bread. My left wisdom tooth still hurt when I chewed. Who would’ve thought I’d dream about my ex-boyfriend after all these years?

"You weren’t dreaming about Ethan Davis, were you?"

I choked on the milk I’d just sipped.

"He already has a girlfriend."

What did it matter if I had?

I finally had a day off. After breakfast, I threw on a set of pajamas and took my little Corgi out for a walk. The rule "you’ll run into your ex if you go out looking a mess" never fails. As soon as we stepped out, Pixie started barking at the new neighbor who was closing their door across the hall.

No need for a dog’s sharp nose—I’d recognize Ethan Davis’ signature cologne anywhere, even if he’d drowned himself in it for three days. It was stronger than usual.

"What are you doing here?"

"Why can’t I be here?" Ethan Davis knelt down and petted Pixie’s fluffy head. Pixie was such a traitor. I’d taken good care of him for four years, but the second he saw Ethan Davis, he crawled right into his arms.

When we broke up, I didn’t want the dog. We’d gotten him together, and he’d always been closer to Ethan Davis. But Ethan Davis said he didn’t have time to take care of him, so I had no choice but to take the poor little thing no one wanted.

I tugged on Pixie’s leash. "I’m your mom!"

"Does it matter? I’m still your dad, aren’t I, Pixie?" Ethan Davis had mastered the art of modern communication. Every word was meant for Pixie, but every word hit me right where it hurt. No wonder he’d pulled off the "green tea" act—he was good.

I tossed the leash at him, saying, "Take your dog son home and raise him yourself." Pixie trotted over on his short legs, grabbed the hem of my pants with his teeth, and wouldn’t let me leave.

I refused to say something silly like "You’re gonna have a stepmom soon"—it would sound like I was jealous. I wanted to be the perfect ex, and I hoped Ethan Davis would stay out of my life like he was dead.

I went back to my place, grabbed Pixie’s dog food, toys, and bowls, and dumped them on Ethan Davis. Then I slammed the door and locked it.

"Did you see a ghost?" Olivia Wilson was sitting on the couch watching a variety show. "Where’s Pixie?"

"When did Ethan Davis move across the hall?"

Olivia’s face looked like she’d seen a ghost. "Ethan Davis moved across the hall? What’s this—an immortal descending to earth, or a prince incognito?"

"I told you you’d have a romantic encounter soon," she added. "Though I didn’t expect it to be such a bad one."

I collapsed onto the couch, unable to say a word. Memories came flooding back, drowning me in the past.

Pixie had been the smallest and weakest of five puppies from Ethan Davis’ childhood friend’s dog. He had a tiny patch of reddish fur on his head—so weak that while the other puppies fought over milk, he could only lie there, barely breathing.

By then, I’d graduated and moved into the apartment Ethan Davis had rented near campus. He’d blindfolded me and led me into the room, saying he had a surprise. When I opened my eyes, I was staring into a pair of big, watery eyes. I’d loved dogs since I was a kid, but my mom was a clean freak, and the school didn’t allow pets. My dream of having a dog had never come true—until Ethan Davis made it happen.

I couldn’t put into words how I felt. Looking at him holding the puppy, that rented apartment suddenly felt like home.

We named him Pixie because Ethan Davis said I was a "little fairy." I didn’t object—I was happy to play along with his occasional childishness. After all, I was the "older sister" here. Oh, right—his "little fairy"!