Ethan
I’d been avoiding Jake from the moment I showed up for work that morning. Not only was I exhausted from barely sleeping, but I’d spent nearly the entire night trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do. And I still wasn’t any closer to a conclusion.
Jake was the obvious correct choice. The only downside was that we worked together.
But he was tall, muscular, handsome as could be, and he made me feel wanted in the way I’d always dreamed.
Everything about him was right. Only two things concerned me.
If we broke up, I didn’t want to quit my job to get away from him.
That and I didn’t know him as well as I liked. His private life had remained private.
But Calder was something else entirely. Not only did I know very little about him, but he was actively trying to resist me.
He claimed to be straight despite all evidence to the contrary and it was clear he didn’t want to give in to whatever he was feeling.
He kept his private life secret as well, but it didn’t feel like it was for a normal work-related reason like Jake.
He was hiding something. I just didn’t know what it was yet.
In fact, the more I thought about it, the only thing we had in common was our dead dads and that didn’t seem like a good enough reason to date someone.
He did have a motorcycle though, so that was a plus.
Despite the mountain of evidence that I should avoid him or write him off completely, I just couldn’t stop thinking about Calder.
Every time I tried to focus on Jake, Calder was the one that popped into my mind.
But he didn’t want me. I had to keep reminding myself of that.
Sure, he’d kissed me in the rain and it was the best fucking kiss I’d ever had in my life.
But then he pulled away, terrified by what he’d done.
So why couldn’t I just forget about him?
I glanced up from my computer screen for the tenth time that morning, checking to see if Jake was still in the conference room.
He'd been on phone calls all morning, probably following up on the Marcus Greer murder story.
The story I was supposed to stay away from.
The story that had gotten a man killed just days after I'd interviewed him.
My stomach churned every time I thought about it. If I hadn't gone to talk to Greer, would he still be alive? The rational part of my brain knew that was ridiculous. The attacks had been escalating long before I showed up in Portland. But the guilt gnawed at me anyway.
A shadow fell across my desk, and I looked up to find Jake standing there with two cups of coffee and that devastating smile of his. "Peace offering?" he said, setting one of the cups down in front of me. "You've been avoiding me all morning."
"I haven't been avoiding you," I lied, accepting the coffee gratefully. "Just busy."
Jake pulled over a chair from the neighboring desk and sat down, close enough that I could smell his cologne. That same woodsy scent that had made my knees weak that day in the conference room.
"Ethan," he said, his voice dropping to that low rumble that did things to my insides. "About my offer... I hope I didn't come on too strong. I know you're dealing with a lot right now."
I met his brown eyes, seeing genuine concern there. This man cared about me, wanted to protect me from the very monsters I'd been chasing my whole life. Why couldn't I just let him?
"You didn't," I said softly. "It's just... complicated."
"Because of work?"
"Partly." I took a sip of coffee, buying myself time. "And partly because I'm not sure I'm ready for... whatever this is."
Jake leaned closer, his voice dropping even lower. "What if we took it slow? Started as friends, see where it goes?"
Friends. Right. Like I could be friends with someone who made my pulse race just by sitting next to me. We’d be friends all right, all the way to the bedroom.
"I'd like that," I heard myself saying, even as my phone buzzed with what I was sure was another text from Calder.
Jake's smile was radiant. "Good. In that case, want to grab lunch? As friends, of course."
I glanced at my phone screen, confirming it was indeed Calder. My heart did that stupid fluttering thing it always did when I saw his name.
Can we talk? I need to explain about yesterday.
"Ethan?" Jake's voice brought me back to the present. "Lunch?"
I looked up at him. This kind, protective man who wanted to take care of me, was looking at me so earnestly. Then I glanced back at my phone, at the message from the man who'd kissed me senseless then ran away scared.
The smart choice was obvious.
"Yeah," I said, tucking my phone into my pocket without responding to Calder's text. “Lunch would be okay I guess.” I paused, giving him a smirk. “But no talking about work, okay?”
That devastating smile of his widened. “Deal.” Jake grabbed his coat from the back of his chair. "I know a place two blocks down. Great burgers, quiet enough we can actually hear each other talk."
"Lead the way," I said, standing up and grabbing my jacket.
As we walked through the newsroom, I felt the weight of my phone in my pocket, Calder's text message like a stone pressing against my thigh.
I should respond, tell him I was busy, that I'd talk to him later. But something held me back. Maybe it was pride, maybe it was self-preservation. I wasn’t sure just yet.
Outside, the Portland air was crisp with the promise of another rainstorm.
They seemed to be pretty frequent this time of year.
Jake walked close beside me, his broad shoulders occasionally brushing against mine.
He was talking about some local band he'd seen last weekend, but my mind kept drifting back to Calder's rain-soaked face, those light brown eyes darkening with desire just before he'd kissed me.
"You're a million miles away," Jake said, nudging me gently with his elbow.
I blinked, forcing myself back to the present. "Sorry. Just... work stuff."
"I thought we agreed no work talk," he teased, that easy smile making his eyes crinkle at the corners.
"Right. Sorry."
We reached the restaurant, a cozy place with dark wood and soft lighting despite the early hour.
Jake held the door for me, his hand settling briefly at the small of my back as I passed.
The touch was casual, proprietary in a way that should have thrilled me.
Instead, I felt a strange disconnection, like I was watching myself from outside my body.
The hostess led us to a booth in the corner, and Jake slid in across from me, those brown eyes never leaving my face.
"So," he said once we were settled, "tell me something about Ethan Murphy that isn't in his employee file."
I raised an eyebrow. "You've been reading my file?"
"Maybe." His grin was sheepish but unapologetic. "I like to know who I'm working with."
"That's a bit stalkerish, don't you think?" I meant it as a joke, but it came out sharper than intended.
Jake's smile faltered slightly. "I didn't mean it like that. I just... I'm interested in you, Ethan. I want to know more."
The sincerity in his voice made my defensiveness waver. Here was this gorgeous man, practically begging to know me better, and all I could think about was someone who couldn't even decide if he wanted me.
"I'm sorry," I said, softening my tone. "That was unfair. What do you want to know?"
"Everything," he said simply. "But let's start with why journalism? What made you want to chase stories for a living?"
I hesitated, the familiar weight of my past pressing down on me. The real answer involved monsters and obsession and years of therapy. Not exactly first date material, or first ‘friend date’ material either.
"My dad," I said finally, choosing the simplest version of the truth. "He always said I was too curious for my own good, asking questions nobody else would. After he died, I guess I channeled that into something productive."
Jake's expression softened with sympathy. "I'm sorry about your dad. Car accident, right?"
I nodded, the familiar lie slipping out easily. "Yeah. Long time ago."
"Still hurts though," he said, not a question but a statement of understanding. "My dad died when I was in college. Cancer. Some days it feels like yesterday."
The genuine pain in his voice caught me off guard. It was the first truly personal thing he'd shared, a crack in that confident exterior. "I'm sorry," I said, meaning it. "That must have been tough."
Jake shrugged, but I could see the grief still lingered in his eyes.
"Life, right? Throws curveballs when you least expect them.
" He reached across the table, his large hand covering mine.
"Maybe that's why I recognized something in you that first day.
That look people get when they've lost someone important. "
His thumb traced small circles on my skin, sending little sparks up my arm. The tenderness of the gesture made my throat tighten unexpectedly.
"Jake..." I started, not sure what I was going to say.
The waitress appeared then, saving me from having to finish the thought. Jake reluctantly withdrew his hand as we ordered, but his eyes never left mine.
"So," he said once we were alone again, "enough sad stuff. Tell me something fun about yourself. Something nobody at work knows."
I thought for a moment, grateful for the shift to lighter territory. "I'm secretly really good at karaoke. But only after exactly three drinks. Any more or less and it's a disaster."
Jake laughed, the sound rich and warm. "Now that I have to see sometime."
"What about you?" I asked. "Any hidden talents?"
"I make a mean soufflé," he said with a grin. "Surprised?"
I was, actually. The image of this broad-shouldered man delicately preparing soufflés in a kitchen was unexpectedly charming. "Very," I admitted. "Wouldn't have pegged you for the baking type."
"There's a lot you don't know about me, Ethan Murphy." There was something in his tone, a hint of challenge or perhaps warning, that made me pause.
My phone buzzed again in my pocket, but I ignored it. Jake was right here, real and solid and interested. Whatever Calder wanted to explain could wait.
"Well," I said, leaning forward slightly, "I'm looking forward to finding out."
Jake's smile widened, satisfaction evident in his expression.
"Good. Because I think we could be really good together, you and me.
" The conviction in his voice was flattering, seductive even.
It would be so easy to get swept up in his confidence, to let him take the lead and see where it went.
But something held me back, a nagging voice in the back of my mind that whispered this was all moving too fast.
"Maybe we should focus on the friends part first," I said carefully. "I'm still getting settled in Portland, figuring out my life here."
"Of course," Jake agreed, though I caught a flicker of something… disappointment? irritation? It swept across his features before his easy smile returned. "No pressure. I'm a patient man."
Our food arrived, and the conversation shifted to safer topics.
Jake told me about his favorite hiking trails around Portland, his love of craft beer, his weekend trips to the coast. He was charming, funny, and exactly the kind of man I should want.
So why did I keep thinking about light brown eyes and the taste of rain on someone else's lips?
My phone buzzed a third time during lunch. This time, Jake noticed.
"Popular guy," he said, though his tone was light, I detected an edge beneath it.
"Sorry," I said, pulling out my phone to silence it. "I should probably—"
The message preview made my breath catch:
Please, Ethan. I know I screwed up. Let me make it right.
Jake's eyes were sharp as they flicked to my phone screen. "Everything okay?"
I quickly turned the phone face down. "Yeah, just... just work stuff."