Chapter Twenty-One
ASH
The slope of his neck—that curve into his shoulder I’d memorized years ago—was so tempting I couldn’t stop myself. I pressed my lips to his warm skin, inhaling him, eyes fluttering shut as something inside me clicked into place. Finally, I could do this again.
Ethan grumbled in his sleep, and I pulled him closer, wrapping an arm around his chest and fitting myself against his back.
“I can’t have sex again,” he muttered suddenly, voice hoarse. “Let me sleep, Sebastian.”
I chuckled against him, kissing his neck again.
“I’m serious.”
“You can sleep all you want, pet,” I said. “I just wanted to let you know I’m leaving in a little bit.”
Ethan tensed and rolled to face me, giving me the cutest, sleep-rumpled expression I’d ever seen.
“What?” His gaze dragged over me—my hair, my face, my chest—and confusion crept in. “Why do you look so clean?”
I kissed his forehead. “Took a shower. Henny’s picking me up in ten.”
He scooted closer and nuzzled into my shirt. “What time is it?”
“Seven ten.”
He let out a low, tired sound. “We didn’t sleep at all last night. Why are you up so early?”
I closed my eyes and buried my face in his hair. “Combination of jet lag, anxiety, and jitters, I’m guessing.”
Ethan went quiet for a beat, just breathing close while I dragged my fingers through his curls.
“Anxiety about…?” he asked, more awake now.
“My father. Work.”
“Oh…” he exhaled. A small sound, but weighted.
I smiled to myself. “The jitters are about us. About everything that happened last night.”
He tipped his head up enough to look at me. “Like… in a happy way?”
“A very happy way.” I leaned in and kissed him—softly at first, a few lingering presses that, the moment I remembered I could, started to turn heated again.
“I thought this wasn’t about sex,” he teased.
I chuckled into his mouth, sliding over him and deepening the kiss. My hand traced up his ribs, savoring the fact that he was still naked in my bed.
“I’m going to get you dirty. I’m covered in cum.”
I moved my mouth to his beautifully marked neck. “No, you’re not. I cleaned you up after you fell asleep.”
Ethan snorted. “I’m sure that sounded romantic in your head, but it came out really fucking creepy.”
I poked at his ribs as he laughed. His hands went straight into my hair, and I caught his wrists, pinning them above his head as I settled my weight over him.
Ethan had that shy-turned-smug smile, still looking like he’d been freshly fucked. Perfect.
“I changed my mind,” he purred. “Let’s fuck again. You can keep holding me down like this—like the good old days.”
It was my turn to groan and bury my face in his neck. “Henry’s going to be here soon,” I said, shaking my head, even as temptation curled low in my gut.
“You’re hard.”
“Yes.” I lifted myself slightly. “I am.”
“So, are we just going to waste that?”
“Seems like it.”
Ethan writhed beneath me, grinding his hips up. “What’s one more round? Blowies for breakfast.”
My head fell back with a laugh. “You’re fucking perfect, did you know that?” I let go of his wrists and sat back on the bed, slipping off him reluctantly.
“I’m aware.” Ethan sat up too, stretching his arms overhead, the movement showing off the lines of his abdomen beautifully. His gaze dropped to my groin, and he flashed me a cheeky smile. Then he moved, crawling across the bed toward me.
I jumped off the mattress the second my brain caught up with what he was aiming for. “We’re never going to leave this bed if you keep that up.”
He settled back on his heels, his body fully exposed again, his cock hard and heavy between his legs. “Sounds like a plan.”
I was one breath away from saying fuck it, when my phone chimed. I dragged it out of my pocket, already knowing. Henry. Five minutes.
Fuck.
“They’re moving our dad to a room soon,” I said, glancing back at him. “I have to go.”
Ethan’s expression sobered. “Let me jump in the shower real quick. I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t—”
He stood and pressed a palm to my chest, stopping me. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.”
As he turned to leave, I caught him by the waist and hauled him back. “My bathroom.”
That same shy smile curved his mouth. “All my stuff’s in the other room.”
“I’ll bring it over. Get in.”
His lips twitched before he turned and disappeared into my bathroom.
We moved fast after that—his shower, his clothes, everything falling into place with practiced ease. Minutes later, we were heading toward the black SUV parked out front. I handed him my sunglasses, and he slipped them on like they belonged to him, looking unfairly good doing it.
I opened the back door for him, hesitated for half a second, then shut it and climbed in beside Henry.
“Well, hey,” Henry said, already looking between us with suspicion. “Didn’t know you were tagging along.”
Ethan patted his shoulder easily. “Of course. How are you doing?”
Henry shrugged. “Better. Actually managed to sleep last night.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “How about you two? Get any shut-eye?”
I looked at him evenly. “Not much, no.” I had no intention of elaborating.
From the back seat, Ethan let out a small sound—like he’d stretched wrong and paid for it.
Henry twisted in his seat. “You okay?”
Ethan nodded, sunglasses still hiding his eyes. “Yeah. Just kind of sore.”
Henry’s eyebrows shot up.
“Would you just drive,” I said lightly, “and mind your fucking business?”
His mouth pressed into a thin, amused line as he nodded quickly. “I am. I’m minding it. I’m not even going to comment on the size of the hickey E’s got on his neck. Not. At. All.” He mimed zipping his lips.
Ethan snorted softly and turned to stare out of the window.
“Is Oli there?” I asked, steering the conversation away.
“Yeah. You know he’s refusing to leave for more than an hour.” Henry shook his head. “Parental overprotectiveness is cranked to a hundred.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles whitening.
Something was off.
His posture was too rigid, his leg bouncing where it rested against the door. It didn’t track. If anything, this should’ve been the least stressful day we’d had in a while.
“Did something happen with Dad last night?”
Henry glanced at me, lips parting like he hadn’t expected the question. “No. Oli didn’t say anything.” He lifted one hand and bit at the side of his thumb.
A tell.
“Are you okay?”
He nodded too fast. “I’m fine. Just… stressed. Club stuff…” The words trailed off, unfinished.
And then he shut down, clean and sudden, the way I knew too well. A door slammed quietly behind his eyes, nothing getting in, nothing getting out.
Maybe later, when things settled, we could talk about it.
Or maybe Ethan could.
The rest of the drive passed in a quieter stretch of road and silence. Henry’s grip on the wheel eventually loosened, the tension in his shoulders easing just enough that I let it go—for now.
My thoughts drifted anyway. To my dad. To the steady rise and fall of his chest the last time I’d seen him. To the word stable—fragile and hopeful all at once.
And then, inevitably, to work.
My phone rested heavily in my palm. No response from Elena. I frowned at the screen, rereading the last message I’d sent before we left the apartment.
Me
Can you brief me on the alternative plans?
Ready to pivot
Loop me in
Nothing.
A week ago, I would’ve already been on three calls, forcing decisions into place. Now I just… waited. Ready to let it be a shared solution instead of something I had to wrestle into submission alone.
The silence shouldn’t have unsettled me. It did anyway.
And then my thoughts drifted right back to Ethan. Like something in me was wired to find him when the ground gave away. He was still leaning back, head against the window, sunglasses on, jaw relaxed but not asleep. A bruise bloomed dark on his throat, impossible to miss.
Mine.
Ours.
We pulled into the hospital parking lot, concrete and glass rising to greet us.
Oliver was the first to spot us, leaning on the nurses’ station with his phone in hand. His face relaxed the moment he saw us. Charlotte stood beside him, arms crossed over her chest, hair in a high, messy bun, her lip caught anxiously between her teeth.
“Hey, why the stressed faces?” Henry asked as soon as we reached them.
“Dad’s okay,” Oliver said quickly.
We all let out a collective breath.
Oliver’s eyes flicked to mine, then to Charlotte, and back again. “They’re getting him ready for the transfer. It’ll be an hour at most.” His gaze slid briefly to Ethan. “Ash, let’s just—” He waved a hand, motioning for me to follow.
“What’s all that about?” I asked once we were out of earshot.
“Our father-in-law is in town,” Oliver said.
Anger surged through me—sharp and protective—as my attention snapped back to Ethan. He was still chatting with Charlotte and Henry, face relaxed, unaware.
“Why? How do you even know?”
“Margaret. This thing with Dad is all over the news right now. He must’ve heard and thought it was perfect timing to show up.
” Oliver scrubbed a hand over his face. “Char’s a mess.
She wanted to tell Ethan herself, but she’s stressed about him dealing with it.
” He hesitated, then added, more matter-of-factly, “There are photos everywhere, too. Of all of us coming and going. A couple of you and Ethan together.”
I exhaled slowly. Of course. Fucking vultures.
“Nothing scandalous,” Oliver went on. “But you know how people are. They like to talk.”
My shoulders tightened anyway—the familiar prickle of exposure crawling up my spine—before I forced the tension back down. That wasn’t what mattered right now. “I don’t want him anywhere near Ethan.”
Oliver nodded. “Trust me, I get it. I gave hospital security his information—asked them not to let him up if he shows. I just wanted to give you the heads-up.” The casual edge in his voice had vanished; he’d clearly already processed this in his head.