Drinking From The Same Bottle

“So...you and Logan...” Ethan said breaking the perfect silence of our dishwashing.

“We grew up together and now we are neighbors.”

“I have one of those. A girl I thought I was in love with in grade school, became my best friend in college and now she is married to my best friend from business school. Everyone else thinks it is abnormal, but it feels perfectly natural.”

I just smiled at the suds as I poured another kettle of near boiling water into the sink. After we finished with the dishes we went back into the parlour and Ethan stoked the fire while I put the game back in it's box.

“Should I add another log?” he asked.

“Depends on where you want to sleep. I have one of the guest rooms finished and it has a fireplace, but even so it will be much colder up there. The bed would be more comfortable than the couch though.”

“I think I am going to stick with the couch, fire and the rest of that bottle of whiskey,” Ethan replied.

“That would be my choice. It is much easier to keep a room warm than get it there.”

“Why don't you take the couch, I can sleep in a chair,” he said pointing to one of the leather wingbacks.

“No. No. The couch is yours.”

“Head-toe then, or else I'm sleeping outside and you can ship a Gatte-sicle back to Jeff tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I said trying to disguise my relief. I really didn't want to burrow in my bed all night while my breath formed icicles above me.

I hauled in some more wood and Ethan started to grab the freshly cleaned glasses.

“If we are going to be sleeping together,” I said coyly, “I think we can sip from the same bottle.”

Ethan smiled, took the wood basket from me and led the way back to the parlour.