The Color of Heaven - 09 - The Color of Time Read Online Free PDF

today.”
    I looked down at my unpainted toenails and plastic flip flops, and took a breath to try and calm the rush of adrenalin through my veins, from just standing there, talking to that incredibly handsome boy.
    “I don’t even know your name,” he said, urging me to look up.
    “It’s Sylvie. Sylvie Nichols.” I held out my hand and he shook it.
    “I’m Ethan Foster. It’s nice to meet you.”
    “Likewise.”
    He smiled at me, which caused my cheeks to flush with heat. And somehow in that moment I knew…my life was never going to be the same, and it was going to be a summer I’d never forget.

Chapter Ten

    August 4, 2015

    I sat up in bed, switched on the light and wondered if I should go to the kitchen and make some hot milk or something—because obviously this wasn’t working. All I’d managed to do was lie in bed and reminisce about the first time I’d met Ethan. I hadn’t fallen asleep yet. Maybe I was concentrating too hard. Or maybe I just wasn’t tired. I was still on Mountain Time after all.
    With a sigh of defeat, I decided to get up and watch some television, but first I’d make some chamomile tea which usually helped me fall asleep. I pulled on a sweater and padded downstairs to the kitchen.
    After setting the bright yellow kettle on the stovetop burner, I turned the knob and stood over it in a strange sort of daze, waiting for it to boil. Again, memories flooded my mind and I continued to think of those early days with Ethan—before I knew what was coming.
    * * *
    He asked for my phone number that first day in the hospital, and he called later that night to ask me out. Naturally, I said yes, but I had to do a lot of convincing to get my grandparents to agree. I was only sixteen and had never been out on a real date before—certainly not with an eighteen-year-old who drove a car.
    Gram called my parents to ask their permission. My mother wanted to speak with me directly, so I was forced to beg and plead and explain that I was old enough and responsible enough to go out on dates with boys. I also described how helpful Ethan had been at the accident. I didn’t mention that it was partly his fault that Jenn had wandered into the street. By some stroke of luck, my mother never learned of that. And my parents said yes.
    The following evening, Ethan arrived at the door dressed in khaki shorts, a black Ralph Lauren polo shirt, and Ray Ban sunglasses. He introduced himself to my grandparents and promised to have me home by 11:00. We walked out of the house and got into his silver Porsche, which was parked at the curb.
    I asked what his parents did for a living. He told me about his father’s career as a CEO and former Wall Street banker and I pondered the notion that his family might be as rich as Croesus.
    Ethan then took me out to Cape Elizabeth for supper at The Lobster Shack, where we sat at one of the picnic tables overlooking the Atlantic. We talked about everything from school to music, books, movies and our families, while watching the tourists struggle to figure out how to crack open their lobster shells. Ethan kindly rose from his seat to help a young family with three children, and they thanked him profusely.
    Afterwards, we went for a walk along the rocky shoreline and drove up to the lighthouse to check out the museum, which I hadn’t visited in years.
    It was the first time I’d ever felt such an immediate, deep connection to another person I’d only just met. We “clicked” on every level, and when he drove me home and it was time to say goodnight, I didn’t want the night to end. I wanted to keep sitting in his car until dawn, just talking.
    Or maybe doing something more…
    Everything about him—his mesmerizing green eyes, his toned, muscular body and manly hands on the steering wheel—made my young, innocent heart pound with excitement and ache with desire. It was intense, impassioned first love, and though I knew I wasn’t the first girl Ethan had ever taken out on a