Chapter 6
Ethan
Three weeks. It’s been three weeks since Biannca picked me on the dating app and we started talking. Three weeks of getting to know each other. And three weeks of trying to convince myself that I’m not being a complete idiot for keeping my true identity a secret.
That last one isn’t going so well.
A lot has changed in that time. It’s almost like I can feel the wall that Biannca slowly brought down through our messages.
I’ve also grown a pair and started talking to her more at work. Small things, nothing too in depth, but enough to try to maybe bridge some sort of gap when all is revealed tonight.
Nerves have completely taken over. Not only am I checking my phone ever thirty seconds to make sure she hasn’t changed her mind, but I can’t stop moving around my apartment.
The damn thing is cleaner than it’s been in…ever probably. I even dusted the baseboards and top of the refrigerator.
And the nervous energy rolling through me in vicious currents has me dressed and ready to go by 4:15. The gala doesn’t start until 6:00. I only live about twenty minutes from the library, so I have a lot of time to kill while already dressed.
Nothing on television captures my attention. There’s no chance in hell I’m calling my mother or sister and starting in on a conversation with them, even though they’ve each called twice today. I’d like to be in a good mood when I see Biannca.
Even reading, my normal pastime that always drains away hours, fails me. When I read the same page for the third time, I give up.
My brain feels like a dog chasing its tail around the room in circles but it just can’t seem to catch it and it never tires.
Instead, I pull my phone out and open up the long thread of messages with Biannca. I read through them, telling myself I’m just reminding myself of the details that I know I burned into my brain the first time.
Before I know it, it’s time for me to leave. To meet the girl of my dreams and lay it all out for her. To the night that can change my life forever.
***
As I round the corner from the parking lot, I spot Biannca just inside the glass doors and nearly choke on my tongue as my steps falter. She’s utterly stunning. That’s not even a strong enough word.
Even in my tux, there’s no way I can compete with her beauty.
Just like she said, she’s wearing a stunning black sequin dress that dips low in the back, exposing nothing but milky skin. That is, until she turns, her chocolate curls swirling around her and landing just above where her dress sits a few inches above her spectacular ass.
My hand presses to my chest, right where the burn is lit for the beauty waiting for me inside.
And as she turns toward the door, I see the red flower planted behind her ear. She’s wearing lipstick that matches the vibrancy of the flower and it damn near kills me on the spot.
If this does end up absolutely obliterating any sort of friendship or work relationship I have with Biannca, just knowing she’s here, dressed to the nines and drop dead gorgeous waiting for me will be enough. I’ll hold on to this for years to come.
With a deep breath, I climb the few steps to the library entrance, bracing myself for what could be a horrible confrontation.
The library is teeming with people. More than I ever thought it could possibly fit and I wince as I watch people walking around with glasses filled to the brim of what’s surely a variety of beverages.
I know the point is to help people love the library, see all it has to offer, fall in love with it and want to continue to support it.
But the thought of someone spilling on a book, or worse, several books, has chills skating down my spine.
Pushing through the crowd, I head toward the conference room that has been cleared of the typical long table that seats up to twenty.
The permitter of the room is lined with tall round tables with navy tablecloths that are strapped around the legs of the table.
Each corner of the room holds a larger table, filled with various types of appetizers.
And in front of what’s normally a projector is a bar.
They really went all out for this event.
Biannca is standing on the far side of the room, fingers fidgeting a foot above the table as though she’s deciding which item is the most appealing to try.
This is it. The moment of truth. She’ll either accept that it’s me, or be beyond furious that I kept my identity hidden for three weeks while getting to know her via text message.
I can’t tear my eyes from her as she slowly turns around, a small pastry between her thumb and forefinger. Her lips part to take a bite but as her gaze lifts and finds me, holding a single long stem red rose, the pastry falls to the floor and her jaw drops.
My heart falters as I await my fate. Something skitters across her eyes but she’s too far away for me to read the emotion behind it.
But then everything changes. My heart kicks up its pace and hope swells in my chest.
Her mouth lifts at the corners, then further until it’s a dazzling smile showing brilliantly white teeth. It makes my cheeks heat and my lips turn up into a smile that hurts.
We both walk toward the middle of the room, an invisible string pulling taut to bring us closer together.
When we finally meet, she shakes her head, lips parted, seemingly at a loss for words.
“For you.” I tip the rose in her direction.
“Ethan.” My name bleeds through her lips like a Goddamn prayer. Even if this goes sideways, which is still a huge possibility, just hearing my name that way is enough for me.
Taking a chance, I cup her jaw, running my thumb over the apple of her cheek. “You look absolutely gorgeous.”
She leans into my touch as she tips the rose toward her nose. “Did you know? All along, have you known it was me?”
“I—uh…” What am I supposed to say? Yes, admitting the truth is a great first step. But the words won’t come.
A hand splays against my chest and I know she can feel my heart pounding against her palm.
“You should have told me.”
“Fear. Of rejection or, I don’t know. You’re so far out of my league that—”
She cuts me off as she throws her arms around my neck, her lips mere inches from mine. “You big, stupid, man.”
Without hesitation I claim her mouth. I’m not gentle, not slow, and not standing on ceremony. I take like she’s mine, like she always has been, and always will be.
A hand plunges into her curls, gripping the back of her head and tipping her face higher so my tongue can delve into her mouth.
The tiny whimper that escapes her as she collapses into me, crushing the rose between us has fire igniting in my chest.
Her fingers twist into the lapels of my tux jacket, pulling me impossibly closer.
Need for her expounds through my body, a raging fire that will scorch everything in its path to get to her.
I drop my forehead to hers, cupping her jaw with one hand and placing the other against her lower back to hold her against me.
“Are you mad? I’d understand if you’re mad. If you want me to leave. If you—”
“Ethan. Shut up. I don’t know what’s happened to make you doubt yourself so much. Did you lie about anything we talked about in texts?”
I shake my head against hers, unwilling to break contact. “Of course not.”
“Then no, I’m not mad. I was confused for a moment. I don’t know why you didn’t tell me, but this is the best way things could have gone.” Pulling back, I take in her face. Cheeks flush, bottom lip between her teeth and her fingers are fidgety.
“What do you mean?”
Her gaze slides to the side and I stroke her cheek to bring her attention back to me. “I may have a crush on you. And maybe have had one. For…a while.”
I tip my face to the ceiling and huff out a gruff laugh. “We’re ridiculous. You know that? All this time, and had we just…talked to each other.”
“We have now.”
“You’re damn fucking right we do.” I don’t waste a single second. I slam my mouth to hers again. Yes, some part of me is aware of all the people around us, the people watching us practically making out in the middle of the conference room. But I don’t give a damn.
Finally, after years, I’ve had a taste of Biannca. And now, I’m never letting go.