15. Bridget
CHAPTER 15
Bridget
The next morning, I emerge from my bedroom like a zombie looking for fresh brains in the form of caffeine. I had trouble sleeping for more than two hours at a time between my shoulder pain, my abdominal pain, and my racing thoughts. I probably should’ve taken my pain medication, but I only want to use them when necessary. I will not become dependent on anything or anyone.
Ethan has the espresso machine on the counter again and is fiddling with the knobs and parts. And he’s shirtless again . Did this man not pack any T-shirts? As I get closer to the kitchen, I notice that Ethan is not only shirtless, he’s wearing a towel slung low over his hips, the deep V of his muscles drawing my attention down to the bulge I see hiding behind the white cotton.
“Morning. I was excited to play with this beauty again. I made you something new.”
“Did you take a shower in my bathroom?” I ask. When had he been in my room? Maybe I did get more sleep than I thought. Walking into the kitchen, I set my phone on the island and lean back against the counter as sports highlights fill the muted TV screen.
“That is the only place to shower in your apartment.” He looks concerned. “I didn’t wake you, did I? You looked zonked when I snuck in.”
“It’s fine. Just put some clothes on. Didn’t you do laundry recently?” My tone comes out more annoyed than I intend, but the sight of him nearly naked is a little more than I can take this early in the morning. Be strong, Bridget.
He saunters to his overnight bag and grabs a pair of athletic shorts, dropping the towel and revealing his entire backside as he pulls the shorts up his hips. Fuck, I forgot about his rugby thighs and perfect ass. Clearing my throat, I try to pull myself together. “You could’ve done that in the bathroom,” I huff as he crosses to the laundry closet off the kitchen and tosses the towel into the washing machine.
“Do you normally check out your friends’ asses?” he shoots back.
Touché. I scrub a hand down my face, hoping to hide the heat I feel in my cheeks as I move around the island.
“Let me know what you think about this.” He hands me an espresso mug.
Bringing the mug to my mouth I savor the rich aroma before taking a sip. My taste buds explode the second the coffee touches my tongue. “Is this an Americano? It’s better than the one you made yesterday, if that’s even possible.”
He smiles. “It’s a doppio espresso. It’s basically a double espresso. Americanos are diluted with water. A doppio has a stronger, richer flavor.”
Damn, he sounds sexy when he speaks in Italian. “Your Italian accent’s not too bad,” I say. “Did you pick up a lot of Italian when you lived in Italy?”
“A little. And trust me, my accent is shit. If you hear a native speaker, you’ll realize I sound like a cheap knockoff.”
“Why does your espresso taste better than mine?” I breathe in the earthy aroma.
“I did go to culinary school, you know,” he teases, leaning back against the island as I pull up a stool next to him. “But it’s probably the espresso powder I used. The restaurant imports it.”
“Do you know how to say anything else in Italian?” I try not to blush, but I can feel the heat seeping into my cheeks.
“You like when I speak Italian, eh?” He leans over, placing one hand behind my neck while cupping my cheek with the other. “Voglio che siamo più che amici.”
The breath whooshes from my lungs as I pant for air. My kitchen suddenly feels one hundred degrees hotter. “What did you say?” I ask, my voice sounding breathier than normal before my brain overrides my libido. “Did you just mention my puking?”
He chuckles softly, his lips moving millimeters from my forehead. “No. It means that… I’m… uh… I’m glad we are friends.” His soft breaths warm my skin before he presses his lips to my forehead, hovering longer than he should.
“Oh,” I breathe out as his green eyes lock on mine. I couldn’t care less what it means as he slowly inches forward and pulls our faces closer.
I can’t deny this energy I feel any longer. It crackles between us as our chests heave, and we pant warm breaths against each other’s mouths. I can smell the hint of his coffee on his breath, the sickly-sweet aroma surprisingly enticing.
“Voglio di più,” he pleads against my mouth. Just as I feel the brushing of his lips over mine, my phone buzzes on the counter, breaking our bubble and sending me back to reality.
He reaches across the island to grab it, handing it to me. As several more texts come through, I look at the screen and see that it’s Becka.
Becka
It’s beautiful here
[picture of sand and clear blue water]
I miss you
Have you seen Ethan again?
I blow out a frustrated breath. I’m not sure what I want from Ethan, and I’m not ready to explain my feelings to Becka yet. And I’ll have to come clean about my surgery if I want her to take over for Ethan. But despite my threat to replace him with Becka, I’m not sure if she could drop everything to come help me so quickly, especially once she finds out I hid this from her.
Not ready to deal with all of that, I set my phone face down on the counter.
“Bad news?” he questions with a concerned look still standing next to my stool, leaning back against the island as he sips his coffee.
“It’s just Becka. She’ll be getting back in a few days and I’m nervous about telling her about all of this,” I say, waving a hand in a back-and-forth motion between the two of us. “She gets excited easily, and I’m still so worn out.”
“Embarrassed of me?” He pushes out his lower lip while making sad puppy dog eyes.
“Not embarrassed. Just lacking the energy to deal with her… zeal. I love Becka, but as you may have discovered, I live a quiet life, and she’s a rather loud part of mine.”
“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. I swear I remember you telling me that you were looking for chaos when we first met at the club, while I was there against my will, since Alyx forced me out of our place.”
“That was different. I was blowing off steam. I wasn’t looking for a real connection.” I wince, looking at him as I wonder if my words hit a nerve. “I didn’t mean…”
“It’s okay, you were looking for a hookup. And even though I normally prefer quiet nights in, I’m the one who bulldozed my way into your life. You weren’t looking for more than sex that night, but there was something about you that I couldn’t walk away from, and I’d give up all my quiet nights to spend more time in your chaos,” he says sincerely.
It feels as though all the air in my lungs has been punched out, each of his words landing a precise blow. I throw back the remnants of my coffee and push my stool back from the counter, needing to get some space before I do something I might regret. Still. Just. Friends. “I’m going to go take a shower.”
“Okay.”
“That’s it? You aren’t going to offer to help me? Make a dirty joke? Or try to stop me?”
“Do you want me to? Kinda seemed like one of those times you didn’t want me to chase you.”
“I… I…” Fuck. How does he do that? It is so unnerving the way he can read me.
“Your paperwork mentioned leaving the bandages on until they fall off on their own and patting things dry. No scrubbing.”
I nod and turn toward my room, secretly grateful that someone memorized my post-op aftercare instructions so that it’s one less thing I have to worry about.