Chapter 10 #2
Oh. I stifled another yawn. “That’s still on the list. I might pick somethin’ up on the way home. Coho Bar & Grill has a chicken sandwich that isn’t too unhealthy.”
He held up his takeout bag briefly. “I have tomato soup and fresh bread,” he answered. “And half a rotisserie chicken in the fridge. Ma’s baked ziti too. And ice cream in the freezer. If that sounds better than walking home in the rain.”
I blinked. Was he inviting me up to his place for supper?
“I don’t know about you,” he continued, “but when I don’t feel well, I prefer having someone else heat my food while I feel sorry for myself on the couch.”
Holy crap, he was inviting me upstairs.
My stomach tightened with a rush of nervousness and anticipation, and I wasn’t sure I had the strength to say no.
That was the whole damn problem with Ethan.
It was so hard to keep my distance when he was all charming and kind and clearly not giving a rat’s ass about keeping our relationship 100% professional.
I felt my mouth twist into a smile. “What kind of ice cream? I thought you didn’t have a sweet tooth.”
He chuckled. “You’re gonna laugh, but every now and then, I get a hankering for vanilla ice cream and mini pretzels.”
My eyebrows lifted. “Like, you crush them in there, or…”
He shrugged. “I dip them.”
Salty and sweet.
“I don’t know why I’d laugh—my ice cream habit is way weirder than yours,” I responded. “I eat ice cream with a fork.”
He blanched at that. “A fork?”
I nodded and returned the blanket to the basket next to my chair.
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, is all I’m sayin’.
” I rose to my feet and drew an unsteady breath, and I suddenly had a million butterflies wreaking havoc in my stomach.
“My headache is bad enough for me to accept your invitation and postpone a dreary walk home.”
He cranked up the charm again, as if my answer made him genuinely happy, and I didn’t fucking know what to do with that.
Was there even the remote chance of him being interested in someone like me, or was he maybe…
I don’t know, simply trying to recruit a new friend?
We did have family in common, which blurred the lines.
“Perfect. It’s been a long time since I had exciting Friday night plans.” He was probably joking. “This will put Ma at ease. She worries sometimes I’m becoming a hermit like Darius.”
I laughed softly. “Your definition of exciting might need some work, but I’ll be happy to put your mother at ease.” Not that I believed for a second that having soup with me was something he’d share with her.
I gathered my things and shouldered my purse, then flicked off the lights and set the alarm.
“Lead the way, Coach,” I said as we left.
He cast me a quick glance and held the door open for me. “I thought we agreed you were gonna call me sugar or adorable.”
Oh God, please stop it.
Did he really speak that way to other clients?
“Strange. I don’t remember such an agreement,” I noted. The moment we stepped outside, I shuddered at the cold and wished I’d brought something other than a cardigan. A snowsuit would’ve been better.
He hummed. “Maybe it is Ebola. You’re clearly losing it.”
I coughed a laugh and smacked his arm, which made him grin.
Someone was stuck on Ebola. Someone also didn’t know anything about the symptoms of Ebola.
Within seconds, we were at Ethan’s address, and he unlocked the door and let me enter first.
I sent him a quick smile and walked in. “Thanks, sugar.”
I’d expected a smug grin or a satisfied smirk, and while the satisfaction was firmly in place, the humor was gone. Maybe it was the close proximity in a cramped lobby that made me see things that weren’t there, but for a quick second, I thought I saw heat in his eyes.
Wishful thinking, it’s called.
I swallowed.
“Now we’re talkin’.” He led the way to an old elevator, and it was freaking tiny.
I couldn’t help but glance at the weight limit for the elevator as I entered the car—reflex reaction. I did that sometimes even for bigger elevators, but it was all good. Except for the fact that we had little to no space between us now.
Christ on a cracker, I was doomed.
He was standing so close that I couldn’t peer up at him, because I would find a way to make it awkward and unbearable.
Was I imagining the tension too?
He didn’t say a word on the way up to the top floor, and the elevator wasn’t very fast. He could probably walk up the stairs and arrive faster.
“Mind if I…” He lifted his hand, wrist facing my way, indicating he wanted to feel my forehead.
I froze in place, unable to say a word, and found myself caught in his gaze anyway. Like, completely fucking stuck.
He touched my forehead gently, and I shivered.
Was that green in his eyes, or was it the lighting in certain places? Under the spotlights at the gym, his eyes were so clearly blue. Grayish blue. But every now and then, something turned them greener.
I loved, loved, loved the silver in his scruff.
Because he had scruff these days. Sometimes more, sometimes less, sometimes just stubble, and it was incredibly attractive.
He had the jaw for clean-shaven as well, but he looked more comfortable when he wasn’t rigid about it, and comfort was a huge factor for me.
I wanted him comfortable in his own skin.
“You might have a fever,” he murmured. “You feel warm.”
I exhaled and kept staring into his eyes. I couldn’t look away for the life of me
His jaw ticked with tension, and he withdrew his hand as the elevator slowed down.
He broke the gaze eventually, then cleared his throat and gestured for me to step out.
I shuffled out of the car and did my best to compose myself. Tonight might very well be the time I lost everything. My defenses were down, my headache refused to vacate my skull, and the last few weeks of trying to be normal around him had exhausted me.
Each floor seemed to have only two condos, and he went to the one facing the street.
“So I’m about to see where the magic happens,” I teased.
Ethan let out a laugh and unlocked the door. “If by magic you mean me creating my Sunday meal prep videos, then yeah, fuck-ton of magic.”
Let’s not discuss his videos. I’d watched too many of them lately, and he was kinda brilliant about those.
Because he wasn’t the preacher who gave grand speeches in his reels.
Actually, he rarely spoke at all. Instead, he had a video running in the background, showcasing the info he offered in the caption.
Last Sunday, I’d watched him pull out a sheet of roasted vegetables from the oven, and I’d dutifully screencapped the recipe in the caption while being distracted by his ass in blue plaid pajama bottoms and a white tee.
“I’m sure a ton of other magic has taken place here too,” I replied.
Before opening the door fully, he glanced back at me with a wry smirk.
“I used to have this thing where I invited someone I was seeing over for dinner on the fifth date,” he said.
“I can’t even remember the last time that happened.
I think I’ve repainted the walls twice since then, upgraded my couch, remodeled my kitchen, and bought a new bed after my brother fucking broke it. ”
That made me laugh. “How did your brother break your bed? It sounds…uh, wrong, I guess.”
Or filthy, depending on the literature one read.
He sighed and finally opened the door. “His name is Ryan, and if his boys are jumping on the bed, chances are he’ll join them.”
Oh my God, that was so funny. I giggled like a girl with a crush.
Ethan flicked on the lights, and with one switch, the place lit up.
I walked in, immediately caught by surprise. Wow, his home was beautiful—and very open. A large living room and kitchen shared the space past the entryway, and from here, I could see what I assumed was a bedroom door too.
Dark, polished hardwood floors. A big, cushy couch.
Big flat-screen too, which was less of a shock.
Exposed brick walls—like I had, only mine were white.
Ethan’s home looked like a New York loft that went for millions.
Tall windows, spotlights, and a lot of dark gray colors, mainly the couch and entertainment unit.
I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, to be honest. But it wasn’t this.
“Your home is beautiful, Ethan.” I removed my shoes before I walked farther in.
The kitchen was the perfect size for two people to cook together. Tiny spotlights under the cupboards lit up the counter that matched the floors. The kitchen island had the same top. Dark green cabinets. I loved it. I loved warm, rich colors.
The ceiling was fairly high too.
“Thanks. It’s not the house I hope to buy one day, but I like it.”
A house, huh? That didn’t fit my profile for him. This loft definitely did.
“Go sit down. Relax.” He gestured at the couch. “I’ll prepare our food. If you wanna dim any lights, use the white remote on the coffee table. The other remote is for the TV if you wanna pick a show or a movie.”
Oof. A movie night with my personal trainer. Emphasis on personal… But the workouts were, of course, essential to my health. For instance, he was more than welcome to work me over in his bedroom. That sort of training could be on a five-times-a-week schedule.
Sometimes…I wished I could silence my thoughts.
“I am capable of helping out,” I felt the need to point out. “It’s mostly just an annoying headache.”
“Nah, that’s not how we roll here,” he replied. “Get comfortable. Kick up your feet. I’ll be there in a sec.”
Well, all right, then.
He headed to the kitchen, so I left my purse in the entryway before I made my way to the couch. A big, big couch. It was worth mentioning twice. Like, four or five people could sit here and probably watch games and eat pizza. It was deep too.
And comfy as all hell, I noticed as I sat down. Christ, I might prefer this to my own bed.
Ethan reappeared seconds later, seemingly aiming for the bedroom.
“Not to brag, but it was me my sisters turned to when they were sick back in the day.” He continued as he ducked into the bedroom.
“Actually, Willow will still come over sometimes and occupy my couch.” Then he was back with bedding and two pillows.
“These are approved by an autistic chick who requires jersey material for her duvet and pillows.”
He tossed everything next to me on the couch, and I stared at it, then at him.
“Goodness, Ethan. This is how I’ll overstay my welcome. Be careful.”
He quirked a crooked smile. “I think I can manage.”
Okay, but could I?
He left once more, and I couldn’t help myself. I fanned out the covers and got comfortable against the cushions, relieved my clothes sat loose like pajamas. I could seriously fall asleep here.
If I closed my eyes for just a minute, maybe the headache would fade a little.
I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of Ethan’s home, and let everything go. It was so nice to hear life around you. I wasn’t alone tonight. This terrific guy was literally taking care of me. Last time that happened, Brad had been alive, and it’d been so different.