13. Denver
Chapter 13
Denver
I rap my knuckles on 309 and wait.
I’d been a coward and waited to do this. I couldn’t face Ethan without having at least a few hours of relaxing. Specifically, bubble baths, self-loathing, and chocolate.
I’m going to end this. It’s not like I have much of a choice. Ranger has already likely threatened Ethan, and continuing to put him in danger would be selfish of me. He deserves more than this. More than me.
The door opens. I hold my breath.
God, why does he have to look so good? It’s like he exudes good guy energy, his dark eyes flashing with concern and relief at the sight of me. Even now, he cares. He says nothing as he opens the door further, and I walk inside.
“Are Sebastian, Zeke, and Ace out?” I ask, rubbing my palms together.
Ethan nods. “Just at the restaurant bar. I was about to head down.”
I resist wilting. “Oh, well, I can come back?—”
“Are you okay?”
I clasp my hands together in front of me and immediately break them apart again. That was what my mom would always do whenever my dad broke a promise, and I shouldn’t emanate that energy when I’m the one about to do the hurting.
“I’m fine. Ranger said he spoke to you,” I say. He meets my eye, a sharpness developing that I haven’t seen before. “What did he say to you?”
Ethan runs a hand across his mouth. “He told me to stay away from you.”
I refuse to let my gaze drop, but inside, I withdraw. He’s going to end this before I can, and that’s... fine. Tale as old as time, right? Another man hightailing it after Ranger staked his claim. Nothing new. Nothing is ever new.
And soon, I’d go home, back to a life that had torn people from me as quickly as the bullet leaves the gun. I lost friends I never really had, boyfriends that probably would’ve sucked, and a husband who was my one chance at some semblance of a normal life.
But what does it matter?
It’s for the best.
I force a grin. “He’s probably right. Next time, you might not be so lucky. One of those bullets might hit home.”
Ethan still doesn’t look at me. “Probably.”
I exhale, putting my hands on my hips and ignoring the thickening in my throat. “Well, that solves that, then.” I step forward and extend my hand. “It was nice knowing you, Ethan Defender.”
He doesn’t move.
Just shake my fucking hand and let me leave. Let me touch you one more time. Then I can go back to my room and scream into my pillow again.
His gaze meets mine. “I have a question.”
I curl my fingers into my hand and drop it to my side. “Okay.”
“Do you think I’ve ever lied to you?” he asks, and I pause before shaking my head. “Misrepresented myself? Exaggerated who I am?” He steps forward, and I shake my head again. His cologne surrounds me, a heady, intoxicating scent. “Then why do you think I’m the kind of man who would give you up?”
My breath catches. “I… I don’t know.”
“Because I’m not, Denver.” He rests his hand on the side of my neck and tilts my head until our gazes meet. My cheeks flush at the sudden urge to cry and, God above, to thank him for fighting for me.
This isn’t smart. It isn’t safe. He doesn’t know what he’s doing by saying these things to me or the kind of man he’s going up against. But something tells me he doesn’t care.
I cling to his t-shirt. “I’m going to tell you to walk away.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to beg you to leave me for your own good.”
His expression doesn’t change. “Fine.”
My lip trembles and my voice cracks as I say, “Don’t do it, okay?”
“I don’t plan on it.” He kisses me.