Chapter 11
ELEVEN
NEVAEH
“Ethan? Are you okay?”
He looks over at me and nods. “I haven’t sat out here in years.” He sounds distant, and even though he’s sitting right next to me, it’s as if he’s a thousand miles away.
“Why not?”
It’s beautiful out here. Whoever designed this area knew what they were doing.
It’s an outdoor oasis. A huge bright blue pool with a built-in hot tub.
The gorgeous sandstone deck surrounds the water with comfortable lounge chairs and umbrellas spread out.
There’s an outdoor patio with a grill and bar.
I could see myself lounging out here with a glass of wine in one hand and a book in another…
Oh wait! That is what I did all day—except I sipped a glass of whiskey instead of wine—and it felt great.
To be able to wear what I want, drink what I want, and read whatever the heck I want, without feeling ashamed or being judged.
Today was one of the most relaxing days I’ve had in a while.
You know, aside from the lingering issue of Ethan’s friend wanting to sell me, and the fact my parents still don’t know Stephen has been killed.
My heart tightens at the thought. I keep trying to push my grief aside, knowing it won’t do any good.
Crying won’t bring my brother back. And I know the last thing he would want is for me to cry and mourn his death.
But I can’t help it. He’s only been gone for a few days.
The wound is still gaping open, and I’m not sure when, if ever, it will be healed.
He was my best friend, my only brother, and now he’s gone.
“The simple answer…life gets away from you,” Ethan says, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I stare down at my sandwich. I’ve been trying to eat around the green and red peppers to not seem like I’m picky, but I can’t take it anymore. I take the top bun off and remove the peppers, which are covered in mayonnaise, and place them on my plate.
Ethan stares at me. “Sorry, I didn’t know what you liked.”
I shake my head. The last thing I want is for him to think I’m ungrateful. He didn’t have to bring me food, but he did anyway.
“It’s okay. All of this is great. I just don’t like peppers,” I say, taking a bite of my now-perfect sub.
Ethan nods with a half-smile that causes butterflies to make an unwanted appearance in my belly. “Noted. No peppers in the future. Anything else I should know?”
I’m momentarily taken aback by his question. Is he actually trying to get to know me?
Instead of overthinking his motives, I just go with it. “I could eat Chinese food every day.”
I reach for the Coke, pop the top open, and take a long sip, enjoying the cool, refreshing liquid. I didn’t realize how thirsty the sun has made me.
I glance over at Ethan, who’s watching me. “What? Did I spill something?” I look down, brushing my chest to see if I spilled any crumbs or soda on me.
“No, now will you quit rubbing on yourself?” he growls.
“Sorry,” I say, confused, setting my drink down.
“What do you order when you get Chinese?” he asks, switching from cold to hot like he’s freaking bipolar.
I break off a piece of the bread and pop it into my mouth. Ethan continues to watch me the entire time, but I don’t ask him why. He’d probably just bite my head off again.
“I usually get the sesame chicken and the pork fried rice, but I pick the carrots out because they’re gross.
” I scrunch my nose up in disgust. “When I was a kid, my brother and I were required to stay at the table until our plates were cleared. When my mom would make carrots, Stephen would sneak them off my plate and eat them for me.” I find myself smiling at the memory and then get choked up at the thought we’ll never have the chance to create any new memories.
“So, no peppers or carrots, and an endless supply of Chinese will make you happy.”
“And you can’t forget the root beer.” I point to my drink. “Coke is okay, but root beer is better.”
“I have a feeling that anything that has to do with you will be hard to forget.”
Unsure of how to answer that, I reach for the Coke to take a sip, but Ethan reaches for it at the same time, and for a second our fingers touch, and the same electricity I felt the night at the club when we kissed, flows through my veins.
“Are you going to share?” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth. “It was your fault I dropped mine.”
“How was that my fault?” I ask through nervous laughter.
“Because you’re a huge fucking distraction.”
He looks me up and down to emphasize his point, and those butterflies that have taken up residence in my belly, take off, scattering all over my chest and making it hard to breathe.
In the short time I’ve been around Ethan, I’ve learned he dominates the air around him.
His presence is alluring and entrancing.
He’s also a man of many contradictions—strong and masculine and confident on the outside, yet sometimes, when his eyes meet mine, they flash glimpses of emotion he keeps hidden—loneliness, insecurity, sorrow.
There’s this darkness that surrounds him, a coldness that clings to him.
He’s what my mother would call a sin. One that up until recently I would’ve avoided.
But now… now, all I want to do is pull him toward the light and warm him up.
Ethan arches one perfect brow, waiting for a response from me, a response I'm not ready to give. Because if I open my mouth, I might just give him all of me, served right up on a platter.
"Angel,” he breathes, the nickname he’s dubbed me with coming out like a prayer, which confuses the heck out of me since I know this man doesn’t pray.
He reaches out and softly brushes his fingertips across my cheek, moving toward my mouth. Delicately, his thumb strokes my bottom lip. “Your lip looks a lot better.”
I close my eyes, reveling in his touch, as his thumb continues its path over my top lip. It’s so soft and gentle, it throws me off. It also supports my earlier thoughts—Ethan is a paradox.
His cell phone rings, but he ignores it.
I open my eyes and realize he's smiling at me, wanting me to say something. Only I have no clue what to think, what to say. My emotions are all over the place. My hormones are raging. I’m turned on, confused, sad, and scared, and I have no idea which emotion to focus on.
His phone rings again.
“Are you going to answer that?” I ask, licking my dry lips.
Ethan shakes his head, moving his warm hand to my cheek. It brings me comfort like a thick down blanket you wrap yourself in on a cold winter night.
“No,” he murmurs, locking eyes with mine.
After several long seconds, he drops his gaze, along with his hand, and it takes everything in me not to beg him to put his hand back on me. Maybe he’s not ice cold after all…
He leans closer, and I hold my breath, thinking—and hoping—he’s going to kiss me.
But instead he takes the glass from the table and downs the last bit of whiskey in it.
Then he grabs his phone out of his pocket, glances at the screen, and swipes to ignore it.
Standing, he takes our plates and heads back into the house.
The door closes behind him, and I let out a shaky, disappointed sigh. While he’s gone, I allow my mind to wonder about what it would feel like to be kissed by him again, only this time, with nobody around, we wouldn’t have to stop at just a kiss…
For a split second, I berate myself for my sinful thoughts, but then I remember I can do and think whatever I want. I’m determined to live my life differently, which means pushing the boundaries I’ve given myself—the boundaries my mom and God have given me.
“Promise me you’ll find your own life and live it to the fullest… Live hard and love harder.”
I promise, Stephen.
I’m getting ready to head inside, when I hear the door open and close. I twist around and see Ethan heading toward me. He’s changed into a pair of black swim shorts, and just like the pajama pants he wore last night, they teasingly hang off his hips, showcasing his fit body.
I stand and lick my lips nervously. His gaze is heated as his intense brown eyes travel down the entire length of my body, rendering me speechless as usual.
As he saunters over, my body betrays me, and I become a puddle of goo under his attention. His dark presence surrounds me, suffocating the air from my lungs.
The man who’s been consuming every forbidden thought I’ve had for the last several days stops in front of me. I take in his hard, muscular chest, toned abs, and sun-kissed skin, and force myself to take a small step back as I try and fail to find my composure.
Get a grip, I think to myself. Living your life to the fullest does not include this man. Focus on your list.
“Hmm,” Ethan mutters, taking another step forward, and then another, until we’re less than an inch apart.
My brain is telling me to run, but my body is keeping me frozen in place.
The scent of his cologne awakens my senses, clean and masculine and fresh, and then his cool breath hits my ear when he leans down and murmurs, “Let’s go for a swim.
” A chill races through my body, making me visibly shiver.
Without waiting for a response, he walks past me, toward the pool.
I twirl around in time to see him step up to the edge and then dive in gracefully. A few seconds later, he surfaces and gives his head a shake. Droplets of water fly around him, and I imagine licking them off his body to quench my thirst.
“Are you going to make me swim alone?” He shoots me, what Blaire would call, a panty-dropping wink.
I give him a soft smile. “Yes, I am. I dipped my feet in there earlier and it’s too cold for me.” Lie.
“Liar,” he says with a knowing smirk. “It’s warm.”
“I just ate. I was taught not to swim after you eat.”
“Thought you weren’t doing what your mother says anymore.”
Damn him! He’s got me there.
“Whatever.”
“Don’t make me beg,” he says with an adorably sexy pout. “Get in here.”