Addy
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I shouldn’t be pacing.
Pacing implies I’m nervous.
I’m not nervous. I’m simply moving with purpose back and forth, across Ethan Strong’s very expensive living room. like a woman who absolutely doesn't have a mental younger sister about to FaceTime her and demand a full debrief of her life choices.
Captain watches me like I’ve finally lost it.
“You’re not helping,” I tell him.
He blinks.
My phone buzzes in my hand, Luci’s name lighting up the screen with a level of enthusiasm that should honestly come with a warning label.
I inhale.
Exhale.
Answer.
“Hello—”
“Fucking hell, Addy, you slept with your boss?”
I close my eyes.
Of course she opens with that.
“Hi, Luci,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose. “How are you? How’s life? How’s your complete lack of boundaries?”
“Thriving,” she says immediately. “Now answer the question.”
I stare at the screen, already regretting every life choice that led me to texting her anything more revealing than a weather update. “I’m hanging up.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I absolutely would.”
“You need me,” she says sweetly. “I’m your emotional support sister.”
“You’re a menace.”
“And yet, here I am, carrying this conversation. So will you please tell me what the hell that text was all about?”
I sigh and drop onto the couch, tucking my legs under me. “Maybe I should have kept this to myself. My shitty string of crazy life decisions.”
Luci scoffs. “Stop darting around the subject. Give me all the details.”
“There are no details.”
“There are absolutely details.”
I bite my bottom lip, trying to prevent a slightly hysterical laugh from erupting. “There are… minimal details.”
“Addy.”
“Luci.”
“That’s it. I’m booking a train.” Luci leans closer to the camera, eyes bright with threat-level enthusiasm. “Now that you’re much closer, we’re overdue for a visit anyway.”
My head snaps up. “You’re what?”
“I need to see this man.”
“You don't need to see this man.”
“I do,” she insists. “For research.”
I pet Captain as my life spirals in front of my eyes, on this stupid little phone screen of mine. I was not expecting this to happen. “You don’t get to research my life.”
“I absolutely do. I’m your sister. It’s in the contract.”
“There's no contract.”
“There is now.”
I press my lips together, already losing this argument. “He’s my boss.”
“Mm.”
“That’s it.”
Luci’s smirk says she has already convicted me in the court of sisterly judgment.
“Nothing else,” I insist. “No reason for you to come and check out the guy I definitely can’t have anything serious with.”
“Sure.”
I narrow my eyes at the screen. “Why do I feel like you don’t believe me?”
“Because,” she says, leaning closer to the camera like she’s about to deliver a TED Talk, “you only use that tone when you’re lying or when you’ve made a terrible decision you’re trying to rebrand as a neutral life event.”
“I’m not rebranding anything.”
“You slept with him twice, didn’t you?”
I groan and drop my head back against the couch. “I hate you.”
“You love me,” she corrects. “Also, I’m coming this weekend.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I already checked trains, and I’m not scheduled to work so the timing couldn’t be better.”
I forgot how insane she is. “You can’t just invite yourself.”
“I’m not inviting myself,” she says. “I’m arriving.”
I sit up, dragging a hand through my hair. “Luci, this is not… this isn’t a thing. It’s… complicated.”
“Complicated how?” she asks, softer now.
I hesitate because how do I explain this without sounding completely unhinged?
“That’s just it,” I say finally. “It’s… not supposed to be anything. He’s my boss. I live here. There are rules. Boundaries. Responsibilities.”
“And yet,” she says gently, “you’re bright red because of him, and you have the look of someone who’s been pacing.”
I groan. She knows me too well. “I wasn't pacing.”
She snorts. “Addy.”
I exhale slowly. “It’s just… he’s… different.”
“Oh, I love that,” she says immediately, eyes lighting up again. “Tell me everything.”
“No.”
“Addy…”
“He’s just… not like Bryce.”
“Well, that’s a low bar,” she says dryly.
“I know,” I admit. “But it’s more than that. He’s… steady. He sees things. He listens. And it’s…” I cut myself off, shaking my head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
I soften slightly. “I know.”
She studies me through the screen, her expression surprisingly serious now. “Are you happy?”
The question catches me off guard.
I think about it, the madness, the tension, the way nothing about this situation makes sense. About the way I feel when he looks at me.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “But I don’t feel… small.”
“Okay,” she says quietly. “I’m definitely coming.”
“Luci—”
“I’ll be there Saturday.”
I sigh. “You're exhausting.
“And yet, I'm coming.”
Before I can argue further, I hear footsteps behind me. I glance up to see Ethan, standing just at the edge of the living room, jacket off, tie slightly loosened, watching me with that quiet, assessing look that immediately makes my brain forget how to function like a normal person.
Great. Perfect timing.
Luci notices the shift in my expression instantly. “Oh,” she says, delighted. “Is that him?”
“No.”
She nearly shrieks. “Flip the camera.”
“I have to go,” I say quickly. “Bye.”
I hang up immediately before she can escalate.
I sit there, staring at my phone like it personally betrayed me.
Then I look up.
Ethan is still watching me, one brow slightly raised. “Should I be concerned?”
“Yes,” I say flatly. “Very.”
He steps closer, setting his phone down on the counter. “About?”
“My sister. She’s coming this weekend to visit me. We haven’t had a chance to see one another since I moved here.”
He pauses. “All right.”
I blink. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” he says simply. A faint hint of amusement touches his mouth. “What’s she like?”
I huff out a laugh. “She’s chaotic, blunt, and has no filter. She will absolutely interrogate you.”
“I’ve handled worse.”
“Have you?” I challenge.
He steps closer, and my brain immediately short-circuits. “She can stay here.”
I blink again. “What?”
“If she’s visiting,” he continues, like this is a completely normal conversation and not one happening in very dangerous proximity, “it makes more sense for her to stay here.”
“That’s… incredibly generous.”
“You shouldn’t have to worry about accommodations. I have the room.”
My heart does that stupid thing again. The one where it feels too full.
“Thank you,” I say softly.
I don’t even realize I’ve stepped closer until I’m already there. Close enough to see the slight shadow of stubble along his jaw, close enough to feel the warmth of him.
This is a bad idea. This is such a bad idea.
“Your sister,” he says quietly, like he’s trying to stay on topic and failing just a little.
“Is a problem,” I finish.
His gaze drops briefly to my mouth. “Mm.”
“We shouldn’t—” I start.
“I know.”
But his hand brushes lightly against my waist as he steps past me… or tries to, but instead of continuing, he pauses.
“Still thinking about last night?” he murmurs, close to my ear.
Oh. That’s unfair.
I turn my head slightly. Now we’re even closer.
“Don’t,” I whisper.
“Don’t what?”
“You know what.”
“I do,” he says.
And then his lips collide with mine.
My hand fists in his shirt without permission, pulling him back before he can step away.
His hand comes back to my waist, pulling me flush against him as his mouth finds mine again, deeper, slower, like he’s savoring something he knows he shouldn’t have.
I melt.
My heart's racing, and my thoughts are a complete mess of this is a terrible idea and don’t stop fighting for dominance.
Spoiler: don’t stop is winning.
His thumb brushes along my jaw, tilting my face slightly, and the gentleness of it almost undoes me more than anything else.
Because this isn’t just heat, it’s not just impulse, it’s…
“Dad?”
We freeze, break apart like we’ve been caught breaking the law.
Oliver’s voice echoes faintly from the hallway.
Ethan exhales slowly, stepping back, control snapping back into place like it never left.
I, on the other hand, am still trying to remember how breathing works.
“I should…” I start.
“Yes,” he says.
“Right.”
“Right.”
We stand there for half a second longer, looking at each other, like we both know exactly what just happened, and exactly how bad it is.
“This is a disaster,” I whisper.
“Most likely,” he agrees.
I nod.
Then turn and walk away like I didn’t just completely melt into my boss, because that would be unprofessional, and I am, obviously, the picture of professionalism.
Captain looks at me like he knows.
I point at him. “Not a word.”
He wags his tail.
Useless.