Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
L ily
The door opens with a creak, and Ethan steps inside his bedroom, his big body so languid and graceful after what was probably a grueling game. I never go to their games anymore, determined as I am to avoid Mason. But I used to go fairly often, and even with my ignorance about football, I could see what a marvel Ethan is on the field.
He turns to where I sit on the couch, and his whole face brightens. My tummy flutters like it does every time he gives me this look. He always seems so…delighted with me now.
“What are you reading?” he asks.
I set my book on my lap. “ Atomic Habits . A book that screams Ethan Harrington. I’m almost wondering if you wrote it, and—” I glance at the cover “—James Clear is your secret pen name.”
His lips quirk. “Why the hell would you pick that one up?”
“It was all I could find. You don’t have anything but productivity books.”
He frowns. “You should have brought books from your house when you packed your bag. If you want, I can run over there and ask Kinsley to grab one for you.”
I shake my head, though his thoughtfulness warms me. “This is good. It’ll bore me to sleep.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “You won’t need to be bored to fall asleep. I have a plan.”
He looks so adorably stern that I want to kiss him. Damn him for vowing never to do that again.
“Tell me your plan.”
Without answering, he walks to the gym bag he set by the door when he came in. After unzipping it, he pulls out a stick lighter and a box of some kind. “I bought candles on the way home,” he says. “No more overhead lights.”
I hum. “Romantic. Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Harrington?”
He shoots me a bland expression that tells me he’s fighting an eyeroll. “The opposite. I’m trying to put you to sleep.”
After opening the plastic box, he pulls out a purple candle. As he moves around the room, he places candles on the kitchenette, his desk, and the coffee table, lighting them with quick, sure movements. The flickering flames add a warm glow to the room.
Then he turns off the lights, and I can hardly see a thing.
“This is too dark. I won’t be able to read.”
“Good. You’ll be ready for bed sooner.”
I groan as he marches toward the door. “I’ll be right back,” he says before disappearing.
While he’s gone, I quickly grab my phone from the coffee table in front of me. I’m surprised he didn’t take it away when he lit the candles. He already nagged me via text this past week that I’m not allowed to use my phone an hour before bed unless it’s for reading and I dim the brightness.
When I swipe the screen, my breath catches. I have a text from Jake.
Jake: I’m at a party a few streets down from your sorority. Any chance you can stop by and say hi?
Well, well. It took a week, but he finally texted me. Maybe the shy guy is finally ready to make a move.
Why isn’t my stomach flipping over? I’ve had a mild crush on him for weeks. He’s such a contrast to Mason, so mild-mannered and with a calmness I probably would have found boring months ago but now puts me at ease.
I’m not as excited as I thought I’d be. I’m not even disappointed that I have to tell him no. My domineering coach would never allow me to go to a party when he’s trying to help me train myself to sleep.
Somehow, the thought of spending a quiet night with Ethan sounds much better than going to a party with Jake.
I don’t have time to contemplate that thought further when Ethan strides into the room and sets a steaming coffee mug on the table in front of me. “Chamomile tea,” he says before placing a small pill next to a glass of water. “And melatonin. Drink the tea now and take this right before bed.”
I keep my head down so that he can’t see my amusement at his commanding tone. After nodding, I reach for the mug. Warmth seeps into my hands as I take a sip.
Ethan’s gaze shifts to my phone lying on my lap . Without a word, he grabs it and heads toward his desk. “I thought you already put this away. I told you no phone before bed. I’m putting this in my drawer.”
“Wait, I need to send a text first.” I reach out my hand. “It’s Jake.”
Ethan whips around, his eyes wide. “The guy from the coffee shop?”
“Yeah, the one I told you I like.”
He stiffens, his jaw clenching. For a moment, he stares at me as if in indecision, but then he drops the phone into the drawer and shuts it with a snap. “You can text him back in the morning.”
I stare at him, fighting a smile. His shoulders are rigid, and his hard gaze is fixed on my face.
Maybe I wasn’t imagining it in the coffee shop. I think he really is jealous.
The thought sends a rush of heat through my veins. What if Ethan’s overprotectiveness was always somewhat rooted in jealousy? It seems so odd that he would form a sudden attraction to me after one angry kiss. Maybe he’s always wanted me, and he fought his attraction.
And what about me? Did I delight in provoking him because deep down, I wanted his attention? The way he looks at me now, with his iconic stern intensity, makes heat pool in my tummy.
Without another word, Ethan grabs a book from his desk and sits down beside me. His scent washes over me, fresh and clean with a hint of citrus.
I’ve always loved the way he smells. Even on the sidelines after a game—when he was sweaty—his scent had an undeniable earthy appeal. That has to be attraction. Liking someone’s scent is such a primal thing, a deep, instinctual pull that defies logic.
To distract myself from these unsettling thoughts, I glance at the book in his hands. Oh my God, it’s a Bible.
How adorable. The golden boy reads his Bible at night before bed.
“Is it interesting?” I ask, fighting a smile. “I’ve never read it.”
He lets out a long sigh. “I wish I could say it was. I read through the whole thing every year, and there are some good stories. But most of it is…such a slog. I feel like a bad Christian, especially compared to my brother. He finds this whole book fascinating.”
“Well, you’re not a pastor like your brother. I’m sure God will forgive you. At least you’re reading it, which is more than I can say for most Christians I know.”
“I read it every night before bed, no matter what.” He looks up at me, his smile lazy. “That’s about as much as God can expect from a brainless gym rat like me, huh?”
I narrow my eyes. “If you’re referring to my speech about your brand of asshole, I never called you brainless. The exact opposite. I said you were an intellectual gym rat.”
His smile grows. “When it comes to gym rats, I don’t think there’s much of a difference. Not when all we care about is working out and taking supplements, which you also accused me of. Don’t try to deny it. You were ridiculing me. As usual…” He reaches out and touches my nose with the tip of his finger. “Sassy girl.”
I gasp, and the words hang in the air between us. Sassy girl . The words are so different from other names he’s called me in the past—irresponsible, reckless—and I wasn’t imagining the warmth and softness in his voice. Why else would he be staring at me right now with unfathomably dark-blue eyes?
A charged silence follows, and I suddenly become hyperaware of his proximity. Is it just my imagination, or is he closer than he was a moment ago? His thigh is now pressed against mine, the warmth of his skin seeping through my pajama pants. The hairs on my arms stand on end.
Ethan shifts slightly, his breath brushing against my cheek, making me shiver. For a split second, his eyes flick to my lips before he pulls back. His gaze returns to his Bible, but his jaw is clenched.
“You have another half hour to read, and then it’s lights out,” he says, his voice a touch hoarser. “Or candles out, I should say.”
I swallow, heat creeping into my cheeks. How silly that I thought he was going to kiss me again. He promised he never would. It doesn’t matter if we’ve always been secretly attracted to each other, because it doesn’t change anything.
I’m his best friend’s little sister, and he only dates to marry.
“Yes, Coach,” I say, pleasantly surprised at how even my voice sounds.