Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
L ily
As we stand in line for the club, Ethan’s hand rests on my lower back, sending a delicious heat into my belly.
My spirit has been as light as air all day, and I think it’s because confessing to Ethan released a smothering weight on my chest. One I carried for six months.
I might finally be on the path toward finding my old self, and tonight, I’m testing it.
Clubs and parties lost their appeal after my drunken night with Mason, but I miss being out in large groups of people. I asked Ethan to take me to some of my old favorite spots downtown so we can drink and dance and reclaim my former life.
Our first stop was at one of my favorite bars, and I begged Ethan to take shots with me. I haven’t drunk at all in six months—alcohol was too closely tied to the night my life unraveled. Tonight is different.
I’m with Ethan. Ethan is safe.
And he’s completely adorable when he’s drunk.
He transformed after those shots. I could see all over his face the moment the alcohol finally hit. His gaze softened, and a subtle, inviting smile played at the corners of his lips. He started touching me constantly. Not anywhere interesting—unfortunately—but even his innocent touches give me a delicious thrill.
“Are you cold?” Ethan’s warm breath tickles my ear. He sets both hands on my shoulders, his thumb caressing my back.
A giggle escapes my lips. “Ethan, you’re so drunk.”
“No way. I’m only buzzed.”
When I twist around and see his face, I laugh harder. His grin is silly and almost boyish. This is a piece of him I’ve never seen in all these years. I’ve seen him at parties, but he’s never had more than one beer.
He’s letting go tonight. For me.
“ I’m drunk?” Ethan says. “You’re laughing about nothing.”
“You wouldn’t think it was nothing if you could see your face.”
I’m startled when he lifts his hand high in the air and brings it down on my ass with a resounding smack. My stomach fills with heat even as my mouth drops open in shock. “What has gotten into you?”
His expression grows puzzled. “I don’t know. I just wanted to do it. I think I am drunk.”
My own buzz makes me bold. I step forward and lift my chin, and his warm, slightly boozy breath brushes over my face. “It would be a lot more fun over your lap.”
His eyes grow molten as they lock on my face. The air between us seems to crackle. He takes a step, closing the already minimal space between us. The heat of his body radiates toward me.
“Move!” A voice says from behind us.
It’s probably a good thing. I don’t want him telling me tomorrow that he only broke his vow never to kiss me again because he was drunk.
It’ll make my hangover even worse.
Ethan doesn’t seem to notice that we’re holding up the line. His hungry gaze is still fixed on my mouth. I grab his hand and pull him forward to move with the line. The bass from within the club pulses like a second heartbeat under our feet, and when we finally make it inside, we’re enveloped by a kaleidoscope of lights and the thumping music.
I missed this club. It’s so delightfully trashy.
“Alright, big guy,” I shout over the music. “The first thing we’re doing is getting water.”
“Hell, no,” he shouts back. “We’re dancing first.”
Ethan pulls me out onto the dance floor, his eyes shimmering with energy.
Once we’re swallowed into the crowd, Ethan yanks my body against his. His hips move fluidly with the music, and bafflement expands within me like a rising tide. Who would have thought uptight Ethan Harrington would be such a good dancer? This man knows how to move.
“You’re a hella good dancer,” I shout. “How did that happen?”
He grins, pulling me closer. “I’m an athlete. I’m good at anything that involves my body.”
Heat stirs in my gut. I’m not sure if he meant the sexual innuendo, but it certainly seems like it based on his wicked smile.
The thing is, I think Ethan would be good at sex, even on his first try. His ability to move his body is only part of it. He also has that razor-sharp focus and determination. He wouldn’t rest until he made me come.
A molten heat rushes through my veins. Damn his stupid chastity pledge.
“You’re a better dancer than me, big guy,” I say.
When he lets out a groan, I frown. “What?”
His hand slides up to cradle my face, and his thumb brushes my cheekbone. “I love it when you call me ‘big guy.’”
Under the pulsing lights, Ethan’s eyes hold mine with an intensity that makes heat coil in my belly, ready to burst. With each beat, he draws me closer until we’re barely a breath apart.
It’s too much. I need some space from him or I might make the drunken decision to close the distance between us and press my lips against his.
I clear my throat. “You know…there’s a pole in this club.”
“A what?”
“A pole,” I shout, my ears starting to ring from the blasting music. “For dancing. My sorority sisters and I love this club because it’s such a dive for Santa Barbara.” An idea sprouts, making my stomach flip over. “Oh my God! What if we had a pole dancing competition?”
His appalled expression makes me giggle. Damn, I must be more drunk than I thought, challenging Ethan of all people to a pole dance off.
I cock a brow. “What? Are you scared?”
He snorts and shakes his head. “What does pole dancing competition even mean? How would we decide the winner? I’m very competitive, sassy girl. We need to have rules.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “What do you take me for, a pole dancing virgin? My sorority sisters and I have done this plenty of times. We judge the performance based on how many cheers we get.”
He scowls. “Naturally, you’ll win that. You’re fucking gorgeous.”
My belly warms as it always does when Ethan compliments my appearance. “You’re not exactly ugly. Plus, you’re famous. I’m actually at a huge disadvantage here. In fact, I’ll make you go first to warm up the crowd for me. You’ll take a handicap to make it fair.”
Ethan’s fingers drum against his thigh as he glances around the dance floor, clearly conflicted. He finally sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. But if a YouTube video of me dancing on that pole goes viral and ends up on some sports news segment, I’ll give you that spanking over my lap.”
My breath hitches, a jolt of excitement mingling with nerves. “Deal.”
He grabs my hand and starts pulling me through the crowd, marching in the direction of the pole on the corner stage. He’s so big and tall that people seem to step out of his way instinctively, creating a clear path for us.
We’re lucky that the tiny stage is empty when we make it to the corner of the club. Ethan leaps up onto it and grips the pole. He glances back at me, his eyes glinting with challenge and amusement.
“Go, Ethan!” I shout. “Show them what you’ve got!”
His eyes are locked on mine as he starts dancing. He takes on a mock seductive look, placing one finger on his full lips. He moves around the pole with exaggerated hip swings and body rolls, making me laugh so hard that tears spring to my eyes.
“Is that Ethan Harrington?” someone behind me asks.
I turn around to see what looks like a college guy with tousled brown hair. “Yep,” I say. “He’s considering pole dancing as a career if he doesn’t get drafted.”
This guy must not be the only one who noticed Ethan on stage, because the erupting cheers around me are almost deafening.
The guy grins as his gaze shifts to the stage. “I think he might want to stick to football.”
“What are you talking about?” I gesture at Ethan. “He’s an expert dancer. Look at those hip thrusts.”
The guy moves closer to me, his breath brushing against my ear. “I’d like to see you up there.”
I roll my eyes and take a step forward. Ethan seems to notice our exchange, because his playful expression is gone, and his gaze is fixed on the guy behind me. His final dance move is a dramatic spin around the pole. He leaps off the stage and wraps his arm around my waist, yanking me against his hard chest. He shoots a dirty look over his shoulder that I have to assume is for the guy who flirted with me.
My tummy does a little turn. When did his overprotectiveness become so hot?
His dark-blue eyes are hooded. “Was that guy bothering you?”
“Not enough to ruin my enjoyment of your truly innovative performance. Did you end it just because of him?”
“Maybe.” Ethan’s lips twist into a half smile. “Or maybe I just wanted an excuse to touch you.”
A flutter of excitement dances in my chest. I shoot him a cheeky smile. “It was a mistake. You didn’t give the crowd enough time to heat up. You gave me an advantage.”
He lifts his hand and strokes a thumb over my cheekbone, sending electricity down my spine. “Let’s see what you’ve got, sassy girl.”
He guides me to the pole. When we make it to the steps, he grabs me by the waist and hoists me on the stage. Warmth fills my belly. He really is using any excuse to touch me.
I fucking love it.