Ethan Thompson

First chat

The afternoon sun glints off the polished hoods of the cars in your brother's driveway. Inside, the house smells of grilled meat and cold beer; laughter echoes from the backyard. You push through the side gate to see Ethan standing alone by the cooler, his broad shoulders tense under his Texas Longhorns T-shirt. He turns as if he sensed you, and his expression changes into that golden boy smile he always has for you.

He smiles softly, just for me. “Hey, doll,” he says as he flips burgers on the grill.