73. Ethan
SEVENTY-THREE
ETHAN
W e were alone. The kings left a week ago, and things were starting to get back to normal, or as normal as they could be, considering all the bullshit we were wading through.
Enzo and Rosalie spent a lot of alone time together—more than before.
Anson hadn’t stayed the night since he brought Rosalie home late.
I thought we would have to tie Cole down to avoid going nuts when Rosalie’s phone was off.
Fox confirmed she was with Anson after a text, and all was well. Mostly. We had to distract Cole in the basement, with me citing that I needed help.
Now, I was sitting behind a stack of sugar in the basement. No one was home. Enzo and Cole were off meeting with Vander Veer, Fox was doing something for football, and Rosalie was at rehearsals with Anson.
Or at least I thought she was.
The door to my room in the basement creaked open, and she stepped in. I froze. She never came down to my room. I locked it so she couldn’t see inside, but I hadn’t done it today since I knew she wasn’t home.
“Hey,” I said, stumbling to my feet. “I didn’t know you were coming home early.”
She wandered over to me and kissed me gently on her tiptoes.
“I missed you. I knew you were the only one here,” she said. “I can go if you’re busy.”
“No,” I said quickly. “I-I just…” I looked around the room and winced. I had so many drugs in here. I breathed in, attempting to calm myself. I didn’t want her to freak out on me, think less of me, or be angry with me.
“What?” She looked around the room.
I froze as her green eyes skirted over all the drugs, bagged and sorted. She wandered over to some and ran her fingers along the baggies.
“This is a lot,” she murmured.
“Yeah, I, uh, I’m trying to stay ahead of everything.”
She nodded and looked back at me. “What’s it like?”
“Working? Tiring.” I let out an awkward laugh.
She smiled at me and slid onto my table, her long legs on display beneath her pink skirt. I caught myself thinking about pushing her flat on the tabletop and kissing her until she begged me for more. I hadn’t slept with her since the kings had arrived.
Again, I was neglecting her, and maybe it was because of that shit in my head about seeing her on stage with Anson.
I’d gone over it a hundred times in my mind.
I knew she cared about him. I knew he cared about her.
He was a million times better than any of us, Fox being the exception.
She’d be better off with Anson and Fox, but fuck, it killed me to have that thought.
It kept me awake at night when I considered how it could end for us, especially if she got a recording deal and Anson whisked her away to live her dreams.
Perpetual hell.
That’s what I lived in. I wanted her to achieve her dreams, but I was also selfish and never wanted to let her go to pursue them. That just made me a sad fucking prick.
“No. Using them. What does it feel like?” She cocked her head at me.
I swallowed and looked away from her. “I don’t know, sweetheart. It’s just an escape. It makes me feel out of touch with reality, I guess.”
“Can I try?”
I snapped my attention back at her, my words appearing sharper than I wanted them to. “Why?”
“Maybe I need an escape, too,” she said, her big green eyes wide and full of sadness and innocence as she stared back at me. “Plus, I think maybe I could understand everything better. It might make things easier for both of us.”
“Everything is fine, babe,” I said, brushing her words off. “If you need an escape, we can maybe get some ice cream…” I watched as she lifted a bag of sugar off the table and peered at it.
“How do I do it?”
“You don’t,” I said, going to her and snagging the bag from her hand. “You don’t need to be doing this shit.”
She huffed at me. “No one needs to be doing this shit. Yet, here we are, in a room of alternate reality with the Sugar Daddy.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. She wasn’t herself. I didn’t like it.
“What’s going on with you? You’re being weird. I don’t want to fight, Rosalie,” I said wearily. She was never like this.
She sighed. “I didn’t come here to fight. I just missed you.”
“I miss you too?—”
“You’re distant again. I’ve barely seen you. Why?”
I shrugged. “Just life, you know? Busy. Classes. This.” I gestured around half-heartedly to all the drugs I’d created.
“I want to do this with you. Only once, so I know what it’s like. I’ll do it without you if I have to. It’s not like I can’t just buy it from someone?—”
“No,” I snapped. “I don’t want you to fucking do it all. Can’t you see what a goddamn mess I am? Is that what you want to be? A fucking piece of shit mess?”
“You’re not?—”
“Don’t fucking tell me what I am, Rosalie!
I know what I fucking am. I’m an addict who fucking escapes reality because I’m too much of a pussy to deal with it.
I’m a piece of shit who ignores the one thing in my life that’s good because I’m terrified it’ll leave me.
Break me. I don’t want you to fucking do this shit because I don’t want you to be me!
I fucking HATE me!” My chest heaved at my words, and my eyes locked on hers.
“Why do you think I’ll leave?” she whispered.
I scoffed at her. “I’m not blind. I see the way you and Anson look at each other.
You’ve told me you care about him. I just…
you’d be better off with him than with me, and it fucking kills me to know that because all I want to do in this world is keep you.
Forever. I love you more than I love myself.
Unfortunately, my love of the fucking escape trumps it all.
Because I’m afraid. You’ll eventually realize I’m a waste of time, and that’ll be it.
You’ll go. You can promise me you won’t, but I know you will.
I would leave me. Everyone leaves me. Hurts me.
The last thing I want is to bring you down with me.
That means no to the drugs. They are my demons. I won’t make them yours.”
Tears blurred her pretty eyes as she stared back at me.
I’d fucked up again. I hadn’t meant to say all that shit, but something snapped inside of me when she said she wanted to try sugar. She was better than this shit.
“I’m not going to leave you for anyone,” she said, trembling. “I-I’m sorry my actions haven’t shown that lately. I’m lost, too, but I don’t want to leave you guys.” She wiped at her eyes.
My heart clenched.
“I’m sorry. I-I’m so in my head. I don’t mean it—” I said.
“You do mean it. And you’re right. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t important to me, for Anson. I-I do care about him, but it cannot be. I’m learning to accept that. I-I’m not going to leave you or the guys for him. Ever.”
“Fuck.” I raked my fingers through my hair. “Don’t…Don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth.”
“It’s not the truth.” I reached for her and cradled her face.
“I don’t want it to be the truth.” I studied her to see the confusion in her eyes.
“I want Anson to join us. I like him. If it came down to you leaving with him or him staying with us, I would choose to stay every time because I get to keep you that way. Given the state of things, I know you have dreams and more love than we deserve, but I’m selfish and want you to stay.
I’m a prick because I would have you sacrifice your dreams for us if it meant you would stay.
And I fucking hate that about myself. I hate it, Rosalie.
But I’m not a good guy. I’m just… not.” I thumbed the tears falling down her cheeks away. “I just want you to stay.”
“OK,” she whispered. “I’ll stay.”
I rested my forehead against hers, listening as she cried softly.
“Do you promise?” I asked, my voice trembling. Each word that fell off my lips made me hate myself more.
“I promise.”
Fuck. I was such a goddamn prick for my words. I wanted so many things for her, but what about me? I hated myself even more for being so fucking selfish.
She shifted. Her lips met mine in a soft, damp kiss. I resisted it for all of a moment, finally deciding if I was going to fuck things up, I might as well seal it with a kiss.
I pushed her down onto the table, undoing my pants as I went. It didn’t take me long until I was seated deep inside her body, her hands pinned above her head as I rutted into her pussy.
“E-Ethan,” she moaned softly.
“Baby,” I answered, shoving into her on repeat. Her body trembled as she came for me. I couldn’t hold back. I let out a groan and joined her, both of us breathing hard as I slowed the roll of my hips.
I stared down at her for a moment, my heart in my throat, before I pulled her to a sitting position. I buried my face in her neck and clung to her for all I was worth.
“I’m not good for you,” I choked out. “I fucking want to be, though. I’m trying. I’m sorry for being so selfish, sweetheart. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“I love you,” she murmured, holding me in her arms, her fingers raking gently through my hair. “I will always love you. Everything is OK. I’m not going to leave. I’ll still be with you forever if it’s what you want.”
I nodded miserably against her, hating myself just a little bit more.
Story of my fucking life.