7. Ethan
CHAPTER 7
Ethan
“You hear from Bridget yet? It’s been like, what, a week?” Alyx asks me while we’re preparing for dinner service.
“Yup,” I say, popping the “p” and taking a deep breath while I dice up vegetables. “But who’s counting?”
“I’ve never seen you this hung up on a girl.”
“I think you should go for it. She seems sweet,” Dre says as she passes my station on her way to the walk-in cooler.
Mina stands with her arms folded over her chest next to me. “If you don’t make a move, I’m gonna tell her the pickle story the next time she comes to pick up food.”
I set my knife down in horror. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.” She grins before popping a piece of diced pepper in her mouth.
“I want something more with her, but I’m not the obstacle here,” I say, hoping to silence all my critics within earshot. “I think she’s fucking awesome, but she’s not really open to a relationship.”
“Ethan, baby, we’ve got dinner service covered tonight. Alyx can finish prep. Why don’t you see if she’s free tonight? If anyone can break through her shell, it’s you.” Dre wraps an arm around my shoulder. “I appreciate how much you help around here, but it sounds like she needs your help more than we do right now.”
Looking her in the eyes, I see hope, but I’m not feeling it. It’s been a week since I’ve seen Bridget and a few days since the last “Good morning” text I sent went unanswered. “I can try,” I concede while untying my apron and removing it.
“Go ahead and head out. You could use a night off anyway. We got you covered.” Dre comforts me while patting my back.
“Thanks. Mind if I grab some food for the road?”
Dre smiles at me, her brown skin wrinkling around her eyes. “You better feed that girl. I haven’t seen her pick up takeout in a while.”
“Actually, can I talk to you about something?”
“Anything, baby, you know you’re like a son to me.” Dre tugs me into her office, closing the door so we have some privacy.
“Do you think I could take some time off?”
“Absolutely, how much were you thinking?”
“I dunno, a few weeks?” I suggest hesitantly.
“Done.”
“It’s…wait, what? Really?”
“Really. You’re a good man, Ethan. I’ve seen how you take care of your sisters, how you cared for your Nonna, and how you look out for Alyx. Anyone lucky enough to have your attention is important to me. And Bridget? I’ve seen her come in and out of my restaurant for a couple years now. Always alone. Ordering food for only herself. She seems like she needs someone in her corner, and I can’t think of a better person for that job than you.”
“You don’t care that she’s…”
“Older than you? Hell no. Mina is eight years older than me, but our age difference isn’t our biggest battle. We are a biracial lesbian couple in this country. You think age is our biggest concern?”
“I guess not,” I say sheepishly, tugging at my neck.
“Do you want to know a secret? I was never truly happy with who I was, never truly secure in any relationship, until I stopped caring more about what other people thought, and focused on what Mina thought, what made her happy. You can’t control what other people say or think about you or her, baby boy. You can only control the way you react to it. Don’t worry about how people on the outside perceive your relationship. Focus on her. I have a good feeling about you two.” She winks at me before walking off.
I pull my phone from my pocket and send Bridget a text.
Leaving the restaurant
Might have made too much tortellini.
Know anyone who’d take it off my hands?
Also, my offer still stands.
Packing up a carryout bag and making my way out of the restaurant, I head toward Bridget’s apartment. The slight breeze is a pleasant caress, the heat of the summer still a month or more away. As I round the corner near her building, someone bumps into me, head buried in their phone. The scent of berries and vanilla hits me as I look down and see Bridget flailing one arm, the other clutching her phone tightly to her chest.
Balancing the food in one hand, I reach out for her arm and jerk her up and into me, preventing her from falling back onto the pavement. “We’ve got to stop meeting this way.”
“Ethan.” A look of embarrassment stains her cheeks. My eyes follow hers as they focus on my lips.
Fuck, it’s good to see her again.
“I was just on my way to your place. You weren’t in a hurry to avoid me, were you?” I tease.
The red in her cheeks darkens, and her eyes shift around nervously. Shit, she was avoiding me. I let go of her arm, not even realizing I was still holding it.
“Ethan, I…” she trails off, her eyes evading mine.
“Dre mentioned that she hadn’t seen you at the restaurant in a little while, and I figured I’d bring you some food,” I explain. The bag feels like a lead weight in my hand as I extend it to her.
“Thank you.” A ghost of a smile crosses her lips as she takes the food. The sun gives her face a warm glow and the few freckles that dot her cheeks stand out. Fuck, she’s beautiful.
I reach out and brush the back of my hand along her forearm before she finally speaks. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?” I’ve learned not to make assumptions with her. She doles out information in small doses, never giving me enough to make me feel secure.
“I’m not good at accepting help. I have three and a half people in my life that I trust.”
I huff out a laugh. “A half?”
“My mom, dad, and Becka are the three people I trust. Becka’s husband Robert is the half,” she says. “And I only trust him because of Becka.”
“Makes sense.” My hand continues stroking her arm, and goosebumps form in her skin. I know she feels this energy between us, even if she won’t admit it. “I’d like to join that circle of trust if you’d allow me. I can take time off from the restaurant, and I can be at your disposal while you recover from your surgery.”
“Why? Why would you do that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“You’re very sweet, and we had a great time the other night. But I don’t want a relationship. I’ve made that clear,” she says firmly.
“You don’t feel it?” I ask, gesturing between us with my free hand. “This thing between us is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. I can’t walk away from this without knowing I’ve done everything in my power to explore it.”
“Ethan,” she warns.
“Please let me help you. As a friend, if that makes you more comfortable. I want to help. I need to help. Don’t make me pull the dead grandma card.”
Her eyes flicker to mine as she sucks in a deep breath. Please let her see how good this can be between us. I know we could be amazing together.
“Okay, you can help,” she relents as she pulls her arm away from mine. “But as a friend ,” she emphasizes, “which means the touching has to stop.”
“You got it.” Warmth spreads in my chest as I smile down at her.
“And that.” She points at my cheek. “Stop it with that dimple.”
“I can’t make any promises. It has a mind of its own.”
“Thank you for doing this for me. I’ll text you the details,” she says as she turns back in the direction of her apartment. I pump my fist in the air as I watch her walk away from me determined not to squander this opportunity she’s giving me.
Bridget
What the actual fuck am I doing? I must have lost my mind. That’s the only logical explanation for why I agreed to let Ethan help me.
The feel of his hand on my arm was…well, it was something. I’ve noticed that he does that a lot when I’m around him. Little touches here and there.
It’s hard to deny the attraction I feel for him, but that’s never been my problem. I don’t do well with intimacy. What Ethan and I experienced wasn’t just sex, and that’s what scares me. It was intimate, but it came naturally. I’m not sure what it is about him that makes me open up. I’ve shared things with him that I never would with any other man, confessing feelings that I’d rather keep to myself.
Letting Ethan help me makes me uncomfortable. I don’t depend on anyone for anything. My life is built around having independence. I’m not even sure I’d enjoy being tied to one person, and I certainly wouldn’t make a good partner to anyone. Not with all the baggage I have.
I’ll let Ethan drive me to and from the surgery. He can help me get settled in my apartment, and then I’ll send him on his way. I’m sure he has plenty of other things he would rather be doing. He’s young and has his whole life ahead of him. He certainly doesn’t need to be tied to me, stuck out of polite obligation just because we shared a great night of sex.
What could he possibly get out of this? I’m going to be recovering from surgery so it’s not like there’s going to be any sex happening. Just friendship. That’s all there can be between us.