Triple Power Play (Obsessed Players Club #1)

28. Aurora

TWENTY-EIGHT

AURORA

The elevator ride to Ethan’s apartment is uncomfortably silent. I’ve sensed Ricky’s gaze on me, but each time I glance in his direction, it quickly darts away. I’m sure he finds this arrangement odd and thinks I’m a slut, although he’d never say it.

The doors open, and we step off to Ethan’s floor.

Ricky clears his throat. “You want me to stay with you?”

He drove me here after dropping Jax off at his downtown penthouse. We’re running late. My ex—not ex anymore, I guess—wasn’t ready to let go. I’m nervous about being alone with Ethan, but I’d rather be anywhere other than where Jackson and I made most of our memories, good and bad.

I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. You don’t have to do that.”

Ricky’s brows are furrowed, his dark-blue eyes filled with concern, an expression he has held since the Kyle incident. “I don’t mind.”

Ethan might, though. He wants to spend time together and get to know one another before the baby comes. It’s a good idea, but my stomach is in knots. He still intimidates me. He’s older and exudes this dominance that leaves me feeling both inferior and safe. It makes no sense.

I give Ricky a soft smile. “I’m fine. Honestly.”

He stops in front of Ethan’s door, hoists my bag over his massive shoulder, and takes my injured wrist in his hand, inspecting the bruising.

“They do an x-ray?”

“No, because of the baby.”

He releases a heavy sigh. “Right.”

Despite his daunting size, tattoos, and ability to snap me in two without breaking a sweat, Ricky is surprisingly gentle.

“I’m sorry. Had I known he was a complete piece of shit, I would’ve never let him in.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know, and it doesn’t hurt.”

He raises my arm and assesses the scrapes around my elbow. “I’m gonna get you to stop saying that. You’re not always fine or okay. You’re too nice.”

I pull away, eager to escape this conversation.

I’m not the person I was before Hurricane Jackson, when I was a na?ve pushover, and Emily did most of the talking for me. But even though I’ve learned to stick up for myself out of necessity, it’s still a struggle.

“Honestly, it wasn’t your fault. Kyle is an asshole.”

He makes a noise deep in his throat but, thankfully, doesn’t push the issue any further.

I rap on the apartment door, and Ethan answers almost immediately, having cleared our way with the doorman, and my body freezes. I want to go home. To Jackson.

Ricky places a hand on the small of my back, guiding me forward, and I focus on breathing slow and steady. He drops my bag and introduces himself, and I look anywhere but at the man who turned my world upside down.

Ethan’s barely lived-in apartment is modern and well-appointed, with monochromatic, clean lines and high-end furnishings. The most captivating feature is the floor-to-ceiling windows, which offer a panoramic view of downtown LA. It’s similar to Jackson’s nearby penthouse, though nowhere near as large. Still, it’s equally impressive.

Before he leaves, Ricky tells me to text him if I need him, and I nod, unable to speak. The door closes, and I’m left with Mr. Big Dick Married Guy, except he’s no longer married.

“Yeah, I’m not fond of him.” Ethan’s deep voice, filled with hostility, grabs my attention.

“Are you fond of anyone?” It slips from my mouth, but it’s an honest question.

He bites his lip and doesn’t answer, and I return to admiring his space.

“Sorry I haven’t got an oceanfront penthouse like your boyfriend.” There’s that bitterness again.

I cross the open living area to the kitchen, where he’s leaning against the counter, watching me.

“Oh, yes, because this downtown high-rise is truly awful. Is that a view of the Staples Center? How horrendous. How do you live with yourself?”

My tone drips with sarcasm, and his lips spread into a rare smile that reaches his eyes and shows off that dimple.

Fucking dimples.

“I see you still have that attitude.”

Ignoring his smart-ass comment, I glance around. “This isn’t what I expected. It doesn’t look like you.”

He tilts his head. “Oh yeah? And what do I look like?” The corner of his mouth tips up, and he runs his thumb over his bottom lip, as if trying to stop himself from smiling again.

In a white T-shirt and faded jeans with tousled hair and an unkempt beard, he’s as handsome as I remember, if not more. The laid-back style suits him.

Unlike this staged and untouched apartment.

I lean against the counter across from him, appraising his brooding demeanor. “Rough, impatient, and in need of sleep.”

I’m teasing but not exaggerating. Ethan’s hair is messy and overgrown, revealing adorable curls, and he has a scruffy beard, only adding to his rugged appeal.

He’s harsh and magnetic, and I’m drawn to him, but I also want to run out the door.

His gaze falls on my slightly swollen stomach, and he pushes away from the counter. He lifts me by the waist and plops me onto the granite island as if I am weightless.

My mouth pops open, and my heart goes wild.

“You’d be right,” he says, resting his hands on the surface next to my hips, boxing me in. “We need to talk.”

“Okay.” I stretch the word and twist the fabric of my sundress. Nothing good ever begins with “We need to talk.”

“First, I’m sorry for upsetting you at the hospital. I have a knack for speaking before thinking, as you know.”

I bristle. “But it’s still what you think.”

He arches a brow. “And what do you make of my thoughts?”

All my fears come tumbling out in a rush of words. “I think you still perceive me as the escort you got pregnant, a burden you’re trying to pass on to someone else, which is fine. I told you that. But you’re too good of a guy to walk away entirely.”

His jaw clenches and grinds. He grips the granite, and his muscular arms flex, the veins in his hands and forearms protruding. I breathe deeply to steady myself, only to inhale his heady, masculine scent.

Jesus, why does he have to be damn irresistible?

His furrowed brow begs for me to smooth out the lines, and don’t even get me started on the vein porn. I want to trace every single one.

Instead, I allow my gaze to wander from his powerful hands to his ripped forearms, bulging biceps, thick neck, kissable lips, and intense eyes that watch me with a hint of amusement.

He swallows, and his Adam’s apple bobs—why is that hot?

“None of that is true. I want you, and not only in a physical sense. I want that hungry gleam in your eyes.” He flashes a smug smirk. “The one you had while eye-fucking me.”

“I was not eye-fucking you.”

“You’re a terrible liar, baby girl.” He places a lingering kiss on our baby bump. “I don’t intend to walk away. I intend to take it all. I want it all. Even your brutal honesty.” He cocks his head. “Though I’m tempted to punish that smart mouth of yours.” His smirk grows devilish before his expression becomes serious. “My feelings for you scare the shit out of me. I’ve been through hell and back and managed to survive. But you…you have the power to ruin me. After you, I might not recover.”

He’s not making this easy on me.

I should leave. But I don’t, and my fingers travel up his neck, disappearing into his wavy hair. His head drops, surrendering to my touch, and his broad shoulders rise and fall with every breath.

How is this my life? With two men I can’t resist.

Callused palms glide up my thighs, and my heart skips a beat or three.

My mouth goes dry, and I swallow my nerves. “Your hair is longer. I?—”

“What the fuck is this?” His gruff words cut me off. He straightens and lifts my dress to scrutinize the red and purple fingerprint marks Jackson left behind. “Who did this?”

“It’s not what you think…at least, I don’t think. It wasn’t done intentionally…or it was, but not in a bad way. You know?” I’m rambling again, and I need to shut up.

“Is that why you’re nervous? Because you came here after fucking him?” He spits the words, sharp with betrayal.

My stomach swoops. This man is giving me whiplash.

“No. You make me nervous, and you said you didn’t care if I was fucking him ,” I spit right back.

He fists my dress and yanks me to the edge of the counter until my body is flush with his and my legs are around his waist. “I know what I fucking said.”

I clutch his shirt for balance and suck in a sharp gasp. “What are you doing?”

His fingers encircle my throat, and his eyes darken. “I think you owe me.”