36. CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 36
ARI
N erves flutter in my belly as we pull into the parking lot of the bar. I’m wearing black skinny jeans and a thin, long-sleeved red sweater that barely meets my waistline. Meg curled the ends of my hair for me since my hand is out of commission.
Yesterday, when I got in the car after exiting Axel’s house, Sophie started heading toward the hospital. I had to kick and scream to convince her to turn around. While she agreed to just take me home and not report the incident, she said she would never again be driving me to that house. She made me promise not to go back there, and threatened up, down and sideways that she will rain down holy hellfire if she ever finds out I’ve gone back there.
I iced my hand all night and when I woke this morning, my palm and the inside of my wrist were blistered. I popped it and tried to drain it so it would go down, but that just made it more sensitive. After applying and reapplying antiseptic, I finally covered the worst of it with two of those big rectangle Band-Aids. All I want is for it to not be the first thing Ethan notices.
Obviously, he’s going to see it. But if we could get through our hellos without him losing his shit over it, that would be great.
I look over at Sophie in the driver’s seat. Although still pissed at me, since she’s my best friend, she isn’t totally freezing me out.
“You look hot as shit,” I say quietly to her, but she ignores me.
It’s the truth. After sweating—literally—over what she was going to wear tonight, she settled on a blue blouse she’s had forever. It crosses over the front in a wrap and ties at the side so it gives her a little shape and also accentuates her tits, which are pushed up into the deep V-cut of the fabric. Her black skinny jeans mirror mine, but the shirt is long and flowy enough that it hides the FUPA she has going on in the front, which I know she’s self-conscious about.
“I mean it.” I brave a look at my bestie, whose size takes up the entirety of the space in the driver’s seat. “You’re going to break some hearts tonight.”
Sophie gives me a dry look and then tosses her long, voluminous dark hair over her shoulder. She ditched her glasses and opted for contacts tonight. “Don’t try to butter me up. You’re still in the doghouse.” I nod sadly. “I mean it.” I look up at her with a pout and my best puppy dog eyes. “Dammit, Ari!” Sophie all but yells. “I seriously am really mad at you for being such a shit!”
“I know,” I say softly, looking down.
She flips her hair again. “But …” My eyes shoot up to hers, and she continues, “I really need my wing woman today, so we’re gonna put our shit on hold.”
We enter the pub, push our way to the pine, and see two bartenders working their asses off slinging drinks. Looking across the way I see Matt schmoozing, then lean over the bar quickly—just long enough to give someone a kiss—and when he turns and starts waiting on customers again, I see Fonz standing there with a smile on his face. His eyes shoot to mine, and he grins even wider. I give him the biggest smile and place a hand over my heart. He immediately rolls his eyes, turning away and disappearing into the crowd.
“Guess the cat’s out of the bag,” Sophie says before getting Matt’s attention and placing her drink order.
“Guess so.” I turn and rest my elbows on the bar behind me, and when I look up, I lock eyes with Ethan. He’s sitting on a high stool at a group of tables in our usual corner. His Army boots are propped up on the footrests so his legs are bent, and his hands are drumming on the seat between his spread knees. His light jeans are in contrast to his dark, long-sleeved shirt. Of course, the sleeves are pushed up his muscular forearms.
At my request, he’s grown his facial hair back out so his chin and jaw are covered in the perfect amount of scruff, and I can’t wait to feel it all over every inch of my body again.
His eyes light up as he slowly trails them down my body, then back up, and a devilish smile breaks out across his face as he licks his lips.
My panties try to crawl themselves right out of my skinny jeans.
We stare off as Ethan slowly lifts a hand and crooks a finger at me.
“Meet me at the table?” I ask Sophie without breaking my gaze with Ethan.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see her turn and look at him. “Oh, get a room already,” she groans before shooing me off.
Pushing off the bar and making my way toward Ethan, I see desire, affection, and even pride on his face as I get closer. Widening his legs, he reaches out to grab the front of my jeans, hooking his fingers in the waistband and giving me a gentle tug toward him. Even though he’s sitting, he still towers over me.
Caging me with his knees, he brings both hands up to cup my face and kisses me ever so sweetly—the way he always does—then ghosts a few little pecks on the corners of my mouth, my jaw, my cheeks. “What took you so long, Red?” He rubs his temple with mine like a cat in heat and gives me a final kiss on the side of my face before pulling back.
“Sorry. Wardrobe complications.”
Ethan slides off the stool and steps to the side, patting the seat he was just occupying. Our positions now reversed, he smooths a hand over my hair and kisses my head. “Wardrobe looks fantastic to me.”
I chuckle. “Not me.” I nod toward Sophie, who is approaching with her drink.
“Soph,” Ethan says in greeting as he turns and gives her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “You look smokin!’” Grabbing a stool from somewhere behind us, he scoots it up to the table and indicates for her to sit on his other side.
“Hey, Ari!” I hear from across the table and turn to see Lizzie waving at me. She’s sitting beside Knox, who has his arm slung around the back of her stool and his face buried in her neck.
“Where’s Dee?” I ask while waving back to Lizzie.
“Can’t make it tonight.”
“S’up, losers?” Fonz saddles up next to Sophie.
“Oh, thank God you’re here.” She throws her arms around him. “I can’t take all the heart eyes that are happening at these tables.”
I lean over and place my hand on top of Fonz’s. “Oh, well, Fonz here has been making heart eyes of his own.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says but quickly frowns. “What happened to your hand?”
“Oh, nothing.” Pulling back, I drop it to my side.
“What is it?” Ethan questions as he reaches for me.
“Nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing.” Fonz looks at me over Sophie, who is hiding her face in her drink as Ethan lifts my hand.
“What the hell? Is that a burn?” His eyes shoot up to mine and then back to my hand.
“It’s really not a big deal—”
“How did this happen?”
“Cooking.” The rehearsed half-truth falls easily from my lips, so I keep going. “I told you I did the stairs this week, right? Well, I wanted to cook for Lars and Meg, you know, since they’ve done so much for me. I was just completely not paying attention and burned myself on the stovetop.”
I have trouble looking Ethan in the eye after the fabricated story just rolled right off my tongue.
“Did you have it checked out?” Ethan looks between Sophie and me.
“I wasn’t there,” Sophie says in a clipped tone, letting me know she won’t be part of my lie.
“Nah. It really looks a lot worse than it is.” I try to pull my hand away, but Ethan won’t let go. Instead, he turns it this way and that, and even pulls up the side of the bandage to try and see underneath it.
“Ari, this could be a third-degree burn.”
“It’s not.” I try to pull away again, but Ethan maintains his gentle grip.
He dips his head and searches my face until my eyes finally meet his. “Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Well, yeah.” Irritated, I finally tear my hand out of his. “Of course it does. A little. It’s fine, really.”
Thankfully, Gino and Tommy approach so I use their arrival as a distraction. “Hey!” I wave across the table at them. “Nice to see you guys again.”
Ethan keeps his eyes trained on me for a moment before manners win over and he turns and greets the guys. I scoot closer to Sophie to make more room, and Ethan comes back around my other side as we all fall into conversation. Gino and Sophie acknowledge each other with nods before Gino and I make eye contact, and I give him a sad smile and a shrug. He shrugs back as a bunch of guys take up the table behind us, being rowdy and loud.
“Yo, Knox!” Tommy yells across the tables. “You looking for two more errand boys to work for you? Your dad’s working us to the bone.”
Knox throws his head back in laughter, his arm still draped across the back of Lizzie’s chair. “Oh, come on, Tommy. You can’t take a little pressure from the old man?”
“Fuckin’ A,” is all Tommy replies.
Ethan’s hand brushes my upper arm, sliding down past my elbow and forearm and to my good hand, where he intertwines his fingers with mine. I give a squeeze, which he returns. This is his love language. If Ethan thinks something is wrong between us, the only thing that will calm him is touching me, holding me, kissing me …
We keep our hands clasped as Sophie, Fonz and I debate with Gino and Tommy about whether John Dutton would make a good governor of Montana, while Lizzie fills Knox and Ethan in on some new case she’s investigating at work.
Among the chatter, I hear a little “ oink ” come from behind us, and my heart drops into my stomach. There’s another “ oink ,” followed by laughter. I know Sophie heard it, too, because she’s standing right next to me, and even though we’re not touching, I can sense that she went still. But we ignore it. Maybe once they get it out of their system the assholes behind us will get bored and move on.
“Hey, Tommy!” I shout across the table as a distraction. “Where’s the lady friend you had at the party? She seemed nice.”
“Ah,” Tommy puts a hand over his heart dramatically, “she set me loose.”
I cringe. “Sorry.”
“Oh, please,” Gino says, picking up his beer. “He could barely remember her last name. Believe me, he’s fine.”
We all chuckle, then I hear a loud “ moooo ” from behind me, and I squeeze my eyes shut. We all fall silent for a moment, before Ethan speaks up. “Hey, Fonz, your dad is looking for some mechanics, isn’t he?” He squeezes my hand, and I know he’s trying to provide a distraction from the humiliation that’s happening to my best friend.
Gino and I lock eyes, and he looks absolutely murderous.
“Yeah, actually. If you guys know anyone looking for work, send them my way,” Fonz says to the guys.
“I may know someone, actually,” Tommy responds as he pulls his phone out. “Let me get your number and I’ll pass along the intel.”
We hear it again, louder this time. “ Moooo .”
Fonz shoves away from the table with a curse, but before he can turn around, Sophie grabs his arm. “It’s fine.” She doesn’t look any of us in the eye. “You think I haven’t lived through my share of hecklers? It’s fine. They’ll tire of it soon when they don’t get a rise out of the fat girl.”
Tears threaten my eyes. She’s trying to act unaffected, but we all know better. We can hear it in her shaky voice. How freaking humiliating. And in front of Gino who—I don’t care what Sophie says—she wants to impress.
We hear more laughter behind us, and I pull my hand away from Ethan’s as I take Sophie’s. “Let’s go to the bathroom.”
“Yeah, I’ll come with you,” Lizzie adds as she slides off her stool.
“Guys, I’m fine, really. It’s not worth it.” Sophie finishes her drink, then adds, quietly, “I’m not worth anyone’s trouble.”
We can’t miss a noise that sounds like a pig’s squeal, followed by a mocking voice. “Hey, you want to go for a roll in the mud?” It’s followed by laughter breaking out behind us.
All I hear next is the sound of chairs scraping across the floor as Knox, Tommy, and Gino all push off their stools. “Soph, sweetheart,” Ethan, who is already standing, addresses her. “Go to the bathroom with the girls.”
She blushes. “Guys, really, just—”
“That wasn’t a request,” Ethan insists. “Go. All three of you. Now.”
He gives my arm a squeeze as I practically push Sophie off her stool. We join up with Lizzie on the other side of the table and make our way toward the hallway that houses the restrooms.
“Uh, should I be worried about them?” Sophie tries to look over her shoulder, but Lizzie and I push her forward.
“Yes,” we answer in unison.
We get to the ladies’ room and Sophie enters first, followed by Lizzie, and I’m right behind them, but glance back down the hall and catch a glimpse of Gino dragging some guy toward the door by his collar and Ethan jabbing another guy in the chest—moving him along as he does—also in the direction of the exit.
This is not going to end well.
As soon as the ladies’ room door shuts, Lizzie goes off. “Those giant twats are stupid, Sophie! You hear me? They are some preppy little shits who never grew up and never left the same neighborhood they were born in. And they probably never get laid because they have tiny dicks. And also, they’re fucking ugly!”
We are quiet for a minute, then Sophie heads into a stall. Lizzie and I exchange a sad smile, and I turn on a faucet to provide background noise, but I can hear Sophie sniffling and it breaks my aching heart.
It must break Lizzie’s, too, because she wipes away a tear.
After a minute Sophie comes out and washes her hands before turning and softly saying, “I just want to go home.”
She remains emotionless as we make our way out of the bathroom. We walk back down the hall and I immediately notice the bar has cleared out exponentially, and anxiety shoots through me. “Oh dear,” I whisper to Lizzie. “I hope we’re not going to jail tonight.”
“Wouldn’t be my first time,” she mumbles back.
We make our way to the front door and file through it. Sophie’s jaw drops.
Gino, Ethan, and Knox are on their knees, in that order, with their hands cuffed behind their backs. Fonz and Matt are talking to an officer, and Tommy is standing off to the side scratching the back of his head.
Two dudes—who must have been the hecklers—are sitting on the curb, also handcuffed. One is in pretty bad shape, with a busted eyebrow and lip, and a nose that looks pretty crunched up. He’s got blood dripping from his nostrils and covering the front of his shirt, which is ripped. He spits to the side and, sure enough, that’s bloody, too.
The other guy doesn’t look as rough, but he’s definitely going to have a fat lip and black eye in the morning.
Looking back at our guys, I take inventory of them. Ethan’s face looks fine; a little red on one cheek. His shirt is wrinkled but not ripped. I see a little cut on Knox’s lip, but other than that he seems to be OK. Gino’s shirt is ripped almost clear off his body, and he’s got a little dribble of blood under his nose.
I look at Sophie, whose eyes are locked with Gino’s—and holy shit, even I can feel the air crackling between them.
“Well, look who it is! Mr. and Mrs. Knox and Lizzie Mitchell.” I turn to see an officer approaching. “You two just can’t seem to stay out of trouble, huh?”
“Deputy Clark!” Knox cheers in greeting, as if happy to see him from his kneeling position. “I thought you were on desk duty these days?”
The burly officer shakes his head as he stops in front of the guys. “You know, Knox, you’re really not in a position to be making jokes right now.”
“Would you believe me if I said this wasn’t our fault?”
Lizzie comes walking up and links her arm through the officer’s. “Oh, Clark, thank God it’s you. You’re not going to believe what happened …”
As she starts to rattle off a description of our evening, I approach the guys. Ethan looks up at me nervously. I get to him and cup the side of his face with my bandaged hand, running my thumb along his reddened cheek. “You OK?”
He nods and leans into my touch. “I’m sorry, baby. I know you don’t like violence.” Warm, chocolate eyes search mine. It’s true, and seeing him on his knees in front of the cops brings back a particularly bad memory.
“What happened?”
He nods his head to the side. “Gino here went apeshit. We let him pummel one of the guys a bit, then Knox and I had to drag him off before he really did some damage. When his friend jumped in, it turned into a little scuffle.”
I run my thumb along his jaw. “Why did you do it?” He frowns at my question, so I repeat it. “Why did you guys all push those dudes out here?”
Ethan shrugs. “Because Sophie is one of the kindest, sweetest, most beautiful souls we know, and she doesn’t deserve to be treated that way. And by hurting her they were hurting you, and Lizzie.”
I look at the ground. “Oh.”
“Ari, are you OK?” I return my eyes to Ethan. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking …” I trail off, and Ethan’s eyes search mine. “I’m thinking I love you.” In my periphery, I see Knox’s eyebrows shoot up. “I’m thinking no one has ever loved anyone as much as I love you.” I rub my thumb over Ethan’s jaw some more. “Your vulnerability, your loyalty, your complexity, your simplicity—I love it all.”
Ethan’s eyes glaze over as a lopsided grin stretches across his face. “I’ve loved you since I was sixteen years old and we danced in my backyard. Actually, I may have loved you before that, but we were so young and that makes it weird.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask. “Why didn’t you tell me you love me?”
His eyes dart between mine. “I was trying not to be too intense.”
“I love your intensity.”
Ethan’s throat rolls with a swallow as his eyes hold mine and he whispers, “Kiss me.”
Without hesitation, I lean down and—still cupping his face with one hand—slant my mouth over his. A moan vibrates from his lips as he deepens the kiss, his tongue and lips seeking. His shoulders move and the handcuffs clink behind him as he struggles with being restrained.
I pull away and Ethan shakes his head. “More,” he whispers, and I lean down and give him one more open-mouthed kiss, followed by one, two, three pecks before finally pulling away. The arousal bouncing between us is palpable.
I’m sure Knox can feel it, too, because I hear a “hot damn” come from him.
“Alright, ladies,” Deputy Clark addresses the guys. “You’re all free to go. The bartenders tell us you were provoked, and the two dipshits over there”—he nods at the hecklers—“have agreed not to press charges. So we’re gonna uncuff you and hope everyone goes the hell home. Got it?”
All the guys grumble. Another officer helps them to their feet, one by one, and uncuffs them. As they are each released, they rub their wrists, and I see Knox and Ethan have red knuckles. Gino’s, however, are busted open, and I can practically see them throbbing.
As soon as the officers retreat, Gino takes three strides right up to Sophie. “Go on a date with me,” he demands, and Sophie takes a step back.
“W— What?”
“Let me drive you home.” He advances on her.
“I, uh, I drove here.”
“Fine. Hold my hand as I walk you to your car.”
She shakes her head as he comes toe-to-toe with her. “Give me something, Sophie. Anything. I’ll take anything I can get. Feed me scraps!”
No one speaks as Sophie eyes him warily. “Why?” she whispers. “What do you want with me?”
With a bloody hand, Gino brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “I want you to make me laugh some more. I want to hear you reason some more about whether Kayce or Rip makes a better cowboy. I want to know what crazy things your students said to you today. I want to get close enough to count the freckles in your eyes.” He somehow steps even closer. “And I want you to know that you are absolutely worth the trouble.”
My hand is on my throat as my eyes dart to Lizzie’s and see she is in the same position as me. I vaguely register Ethan dipping down at my side as he whispers “Breathe” in my ear.
There is a long stretch of silence as we all wait anxiously.
Oh, Soph, please don’t push this one away.
Steeling herself, Sophie clears her throat, looks down at the ground, then back up at Gino. “You’re an idiot,” she declares, before stepping forward, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling his lips down to hers.
Knox cheers as Tommy whistles, and Lizzie and I almost collapse from holding our breath for so long. Beside me, Ethan says, “Nice.”
Sophie pulls away and, keeping her hand around Gino’s neck and not looking away from him, addresses Ethan. “Ari’s going home with you, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He snakes his arms around me from behind.
“Let’s go,” she says to Gino, who takes her hand and leads her away.
I immediately turn and face Ethan. “He better not hurt her, or I will gut him like a fish,” I promise.
“You and me both,” he replies.
Ethan slings his arm around my shoulder as we head toward his Jeep, and after a few steps he stops abruptly. He looks me up and down. “This whole night you’ve been walking around on your own. I didn’t even … It’s like you never even got hurt.”
I think about it. “Yeah. You know, I forgot about it myself, with all the drama.”
Ethan steps up to me and takes my face in his hands, kissing me sweetly. “Ariel Miller,” he says against my lips. “You amaze me at every turn. And I love the shit out of you.”
Oh, baby, you have no idea.