13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
Natalie
“ N atalie.”
I’m accosted by Anthony the moment I walk into his apartment. He’s wearing a pair of boxers with an unknown but very distinctive face printed on the crotch.
Like I told Ethan, eccentric.
“Thank goodness you’re here,” he says in a half-wail. “I’ve been dreaming about steak for hours. Do you think you could make me some?”
I wrack my brain for a minute. “Yeah,” I nod. “I’ll have to get some ingredients, but I’m sure I can.”
He places his hands on my shoulders, and my eyes immediately stray downward. It’s a woman’s face, and she looks threatening. I briefly wonder what he must’ve done to incur her wrath and the punishment, but knowing Anthony, it could’ve been anything.
“You’re my saving grace,” he whispers. “I’ll send you some money on the way. Get what you need and stuff for yourself. I love you,”
I get a kiss on the cheek before he ushers me out the front door. I clutch my bag tighter as I head out, but I’m nowhere near the sidewalk when I see a car pull up.
A man steps out from the driver’s end and opens the back door for… Ethan.
He’s dressed casually—in slacks and a sweater vest—and sporting a new haircut. A taper fade? He doesn’t see me for the first five seconds, and his scowl is like a threatening cloud on a stormy day.
It does scare me a little, even though scowls are basically his default setting.
Then he looks my way, and his facial expression immediately softens. The difference is noticeable enough to make me wonder if I’m the reason.
“Natalie?” He notices my bag and the direction I’m facing. I see the question before he voices it. “Are you leaving?”
“Nope,” I shake my head, “but Anthony needs steak, and I have to get it. I didn’t plan on making steak this week.”
You look good, though.
Nope.
Ethan’s eyebrows scrunch for a moment, and then he disappears, having a conversation with the driver. I can only see the top of his head, and it looks like it’s bobbing.
He raises his head. “I’ll take you.”
“Take me?” My surprise comes out in my high-pitched tone. “Oh no—” I wave my hands frantically. “You don’t have to do that. It’s a simple dash to the grocery store. I will be back before you know it.”
That’s me assuming that he cares about my presence .
Ethan’s offer is insistent, though. He doesn’t say anything—he merely holds the door open and stands there silently. But the rigidity in his stance and demeanor tells me everything I need to know.
I’m either going along with his plan , or we’ll spend an embarrassing amount of time standing here.
I doubt embarrassment is something Ethan experiences often—if at all. He goes through life without living up to anyone’s expectations, while I, on the other hand, am already feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.
With a quiet sigh of resignation, I do as he wordlessly commands, slipping into the car as he shuts the door behind me. A second later, he rounds to the driver’s side, and the car glides smoothly onto the road.
“Does he even know where I’m going?” I murmur under my breath, the rush of cool air from the vents doing little to settle my nerves.
A small part of me is relieved that I didn’t turn him down—not fast enough, at least, for him to take back the offer. But a much pettier part of me resents his high-handedness. Ethan Grayson doesn’t ask. He decides.
So I settle into the seat, close my eyes, and let him figure out my destination on his own. If he wants to play knight in shining armor, he can do it without my help.
Somehow, I expect him to ask.
To break his usual stoic demeanor and press me for details. He did offer me his hand when I tumbled into his study and was somewhat cordial when we talked. I don’t know what came over him, but it was nice not to stand at the edge of dislike for a while.
Who am I kidding? I enjoyed it way more than I should’ve.
The banter that led to the questions, the quiet comfort he offered when I talked about my parents, and the offer to drive me home .
It took my silent attraction for him—the secret knowledge of his presence from musk and sandalwood to something else. It almost felt like he had something for me, too. After all, we had sex.
Twice.
But Ethan says nothing. The car moves smoothly through the streets, the hum of the engine blending with the faint sounds of the city outside.
I steal a glance at him from beneath my lashes, wondering if he’s even paying attention or if he has the driver going aimlessly. His expression remains unreadable, focused on the road like he’s done this a thousand times before.
Fine. Two can play that game.
I cross my arms, feigning indifference, and close my eyes. If he wants to play assistant chauffeur without instructions, so be it.
Let’s see how long it takes before he caves and asks where I’m going.
A few beats of silence pass. Then, his voice cuts through the quiet.
“You can keep pretending to be asleep, but I already know where I’m taking you.”
My eyes snap open, meeting his in the reflection of the rearview mirror. His lips curl just slightly, enough to let me know he’s enjoying this.
Damn it.
I stubbornly give him a nonchalant look and shut my eyes tighter. True to his word, the car lurches to a stop after a couple of minutes. I peek out of my right eye, and he’s brought me to the right place.
“Shall we?” Ethan asks before he exits the car, coming to open my door.
I inhale sharply, swallowing my pride as I give him my hand. Even as we walk in together, the question remains—how did he know? Anthony never asked where I got the food because he trusted me enough not to worry about its origin.
Ethan—
I gasp softly. The sound, though, is audible enough that Ethan gives me a side glance. He’s been keeping tabs on me. Watching me.
“Of course,” I say; this time, I want him to hear. He’s been watching me. I was a spy up until recently.
“You don’t have to accompany me to the meat section,” I bite. “I can find my way.”
He nods and lets go, walking in the opposite direction without any argument. Only when he’s gone do I realize the warmth that came from his hand and fingers around mine.
It was nice.
Too nice.
But I exhale with some annoyance as I march to the beef section; how could he leave like that?
He didn’t take no for an answer when I wanted to go out on my own, but he doesn’t see anything wrong with abandoning me at the grocery store?
“Think steak, Natalie,” I tell myself as the annoyance seeps deeper. “Think steak. It’s not worth it.”
Buying steak for Anthony—something I haven’t done before—turns out to be a day’s work. Not because the beef section is at the far corner of the grocery store or because they somehow had more than a dozen options to choose from.
I get sucked into buying other things for myself. I haven’t done that in a long time, so I find it impossible to decide on almost everything.
After two hours of wandering through the store, I find myself back in the beef section .
“Ribeye?” I muse, lifting the package and inspecting it. With a shake of my head, I put it back and grab another. “Filet mignon? New York Strip?” I pause, squinting at the label. “What is a New York Strip doing in Philadelphia?”
It’s a ridiculous thought, but it makes me chuckle anyway.
“How do you defend yourself?”
The deep voice comes from just behind me, so close that a shiver runs down my spine. I startle violently, tossing the New York Strip into the air like a lifeline I no longer want to hold.
When I turn and see Ethan, I frown and shake my head. “What was that? You scared the hell out of me.”
I didn’t hear him. I didn’t smell him. I must’ve been very invested in steak.
He shrugs, unperturbed. “You were lost in your world,” Ethan calls me out. “How do you defend yourself?”
What sort of question is that? “Well,” I thrust my hands on my hips, “I’m usually not in danger when buying steak.”
He nods like he’s computing something. “How many people buy steak?”
“Okay,” I exhale in exasperation. “I don’t know. I don’t buy steak often. I like chicken, so I don’t. Why are you asking—?”
The rest of my question sinks down my throat when he pins me against the wall and silences me with his mouth. His lips pressed against mine in a way that steals my breath. I flail around, but not for air. It’s for him—and I cling to his shirt as my fingers curl around it.
Ethan’s hand goes down my body, deliberately touching everywhere—from my breasts to the swell of my stomach and between my thighs.
His hand lingers, his touch branding me, and I whimper into his mouth, heat pooling between my thighs. Desperation coils in my stomach, thick and unbearable, and I press my legs together, trying to dull the ache.
Then, as suddenly as he came for me, he pulls away.
I’m left breathless, disoriented, sinking to the floor as I struggle to steady myself. My heart pounds in my ears, my lips still tingling from his kiss. It takes a moment to gather my thoughts, to catch the breath he just stole from me.
When I finally lift my gaze, he’s standing with his back turned, one hand shoved into his pocket. He’s composed and unaffected, as if nothing happened.
“Why did you kiss me?” My voice is raw, barely above a whisper. “Why did you—?” I shake my head, trying to make sense of it. “I don’t get it.”
Ethan turns slightly, his jaw tight, a muscle twitching like he’s weighing his words. Then, just when I think he might give me an answer, he exhales sharply and says, “I’ll be in the car.”
And just like that, he walks away.
I pull myself to a standing position with one hand pressed to the ground and the other against the wall. My lips are swollen, and the steak now looks like a mashed creation with a visible footprint on it.
It’s definitely not mine, but I’ll have to buy it.
Why did he kiss me? It’s impossible to wrap my head around, even though we’ve had sex twice.
It’s him , I realize. I know next to nothing about Ethan, and it’s thrown me into a loop. One minute, he’s kind, and the next, I might as well be someone he resents. And yet… I still sense a hidden tenderness.
I’m not sure if it’ll ever be mine, though.
***
Hours later, I’m seated next to Danielle with a tub of chocolate ice cream. I’ve managed to tell her everything that happened with Ethan, and she’s shaking her head.
“You’re crazy.” She points her spoon at me. “You told me to stay away from Ethan and Anthony, from the Cross family, and you’re the one exchanging bodily fluids.”
“Ew.” I make a face. “When you put it like that, it takes out all the intrigue. But,” I shrug, turning the tables expertly, “you’re the one who said I could be the reason why he finally falls in love.”
Danielle snickers. “Do you believe that?”
No. Maybe? No.
I sigh dejectedly. “No?”
She gives me a pointed, half-ed look. “See? I’m not saying you shouldn’t have fun, but I’m the last person you ought to take advice from. I’m delusional, darling. And you’re not.”
Am I, though? Smart, that is.
I think I’m falling for a man who I know next to nothing about. I know what he smells like, and I know what his kisses feel like.
“I need help,” I murmur.
Or I’m going to lose it completely.