Chapter 5 #2
Then he's gone, leaving me alone in his enormous house with my racing thoughts. While I’m not happy about his patient needing extra care, I am thankful for the moment to gather my thoughts together.
I spend the rest of the day coordinating vendors and finalizing details. The caterer confirms the menu. The party rental company schedules delivery for Friday afternoon. The jeweler sends progress photos of the necklace, and it's even more beautiful than I imagined.
Everything is falling into place.
By early evening, I'm mentally exhausted but satisfied. If he is going to insist on paying me this absurd amount of money, I’m going to make sure every single detail is perfect. I pack up my things, ready to head home, when my phone buzzes.
Ethan: Still at the hospital. Patient is stable but I'll be here a while longer.
Lily: I'm glad they're okay. I'm heading out.
Ethan: Wait.
I pause, fingers hovering over my keys.
Ethan: There's leftover pasta in the fridge. And wine in the rack. Stay. Eat. Relax.
Lily: Ethan...
Ethan: Please. I hate the thought of you going home to an empty apartment when you could be comfortable here.
There's something in the way he phrases it. Not demanding. Not even expecting. Just... offering. Caring.
Lily: Okay. I'll stay for a bit.
Ethan: Thank you.
I find the pasta exactly where he said it would be, and I heat it up while pouring myself a glass of the wine he recommended. Then I settle onto his couch, which is literally the most comfortable piece of furniture I've ever experienced, and put on a movie.
This is surreal. Sitting in a mansion, eating gourmet leftovers, drinking wine that probably costs more than my rent.
But it doesn't feel wrong.
It feels... right. Like I belong here.
That thought should terrify me. Instead, it wraps around me like a warm blanket. Do I? Do I belong here? Can I belong here?
My phone buzzes with a group text.
Madison: Status update: Are you alive? Dead? Married?
Lily: Alive. Working. Not married.
Chloe: Where are you right now?
Lily: Ethan's house.
Holly: AGAIN?!
Lily: He's at the hospital. Patient emergency. He told me to stay and eat dinner. Suggested his place would be more comfortable than mine. He wasn’t wrong.
Amber: That man is playing the long game and I respect it.
Emily: Or, he genuinely cares about her wellbeing.
Maya: Can't it be both?
Madison: It's definitely both. Lily, real talk. How are you feeling about all this?
I stare at the question, trying to sort through the tangle of emotions in my chest.
Lily: Scared. Excited. Confused. Like I'm standing on the edge of something big and I don't know if I should jump or run away.
Holly: What does your gut say?
Lily: Jump.
Madison: Then jump, babe. Just make sure there's a net.
Chloe: Or at least someone to catch you.
Emily: Preferably someone with excellent forearms.
I laugh, shaking my head.
Lily: I hate you all.
Amber: No you don't.
Lily: No, I don't.
I set my phone down and finish my wine, letting the warmth spread through my limbs.
Around nine, the front door opens.
Ethan walks in, looking exhausted but relieved. His tie is loosened, his sleeves rolled up, and there's a tiredness around his eyes that makes me want to wrap him in a hug.
"Hey," he says softly. "You stayed."
"You asked me to."
"You didn't have to listen."
I stand, crossing to him. "How's your patient?"
"Better. It was touch and go for a while, but she's stable now."
"That's good."
He nods, then seems to notice the wine glass in my hand. "You found the wine."
"And the pasta. Thank you."
"You're welcome." He moves past me into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. "Have you eaten today? Besides the pasta, I mean."
"I had a salad for lunch."
"That's not enough."
"Ethan—"
"Humor me." He opens the fridge, pulling out ingredients. "I'm going to make us something quick. You can tell me about your day."
I should protest. Tell him he's tired, that he should rest.
Instead, I climb onto one of the bar stools and watch him work.
There's something mesmerizing about the way he moves in the kitchen. Confident but unhurried. Like he finds peace in the routine of it. I’ve heard of people who find comfort in making meals.
Those people, like runners, confuse me. I find enjoyment in neither activity.
If you ever find me running, make sure you catch up, because something scary is chasing me.
"The necklace is coming along beautifully," I tell him. "The jeweler sent photos. Your mom is going to cry."
"She cries at everything," Ethan says with a smile. "But I hope so."
"The book is confirmed. Marcus got Lydia Hartley to sign her newest release. Claire is going to lose her mind."
"You're amazing."
The compliment settles over me like sunshine.
"I'm just doing my job."
"You're doing more than that." He sets a plate of bruschetta in front of me. Fresh tomatoes, basil, garlic on toasted bread with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar. "You're making magic happen."
I bite into the bruschetta and nearly moan. "How are you this good at everything?"
"Years of practice mixed with focus and caring about the outcome." His eyes meet mine. "The sam way you approach your work."
"I don't think I'm anywhere near your level."
"You're wrong." He comes around the counter, standing close enough that I have to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact.
"You're talented, Lily. Just in the few days I’ve known you, I’ve seen how hardworking and creative you are.
You pay a lot of attention to detail and put pride into your work. Don't sell yourself short."
My throat feels tight. "Why do you care so much? You barely know me."
His hand lifts, fingers brushing a strand of hair away from my face. The touch is gentle. Deliberate. "Because you deserve to be seen."
I can't breathe.
Can't think.
All I can do is feel. I feel the warmth of his hand, the intensity of his gaze, and notice the way my body is leaning toward him.
"Ethan," I whisper.
"Tell me to stop," he says quietly. "If this is too much. If you need space. Tell me, and I'll step back."
I should. I know I should.
Instead, I shake my head. "I don't want you to stop."
His thumb traces along my jaw. "What do you want, Lily?"
"I don't know." It's the truth. I'm so far out of my depth I can't see the surface anymore. "I just know that when I'm with you, I feel... different. Like I can breathe deeper."
"I feel it too."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." His hand cups my cheek. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since the moment you knocked that book into my groceries."
A laugh bubbles out of me. "Seriously?"
"Seriously. You were so flustered. Absolutely adorably apologetic and beautifully, perfectly yourself. In that moment, you let your guard down and I saw the little side of you." His thumb brushes across my lower lip. "I knew right then that I wanted to know you. All of you."
"This is insane."
"Maybe. But that doesn't make it less real."
We're so close now. Close enough that I can count his heartbeats in the pulse at his throat.
"I don't know how to do this," I admit.
"Neither do I. Sometimes you don’t have to have a rule book and instructions. We'll figure it out together." He leans down, his forehead resting against mine. "But, only if you want to."
Do I want to?
I think about the past few days. The way he listens. The way he sees me. The way he makes me feel valued, important, cared for.
I think about that book. About the dynamic that called to something deep inside me.
I think about standing at this crossroads, knowing that if I step forward, everything changes.
"I want to," I whisper.
Ethan's breath shudders out. "Thank God."
Then he kisses me.
It's soft and gentle at first. More of a question than a statement.
But when I part my lips, when I reach up to tangle my fingers in his hair, the kiss deepens.
His hands slide to my waist, pulling me closer and then he lifts me, setting me on the counter so we're at eye level.
The kiss turns hungry. Desperate. Like we're both starving and the other person is the only thing that can satisfy.
When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard.
"Wow," I manage.
"Yeah." His voice is rough. "Wow."
"So... now what?" What happens next? Where do we go now that we’ve crossed the line?"
"Now?" He presses a soft and sweet kiss to my lips. "Now we take this slow. We communicate and figure out what we both need."
"What if I don't know what I need?"
"Then we'll discover it together." His hands frame my face. "But Lily? I need you to promise me something."
"Okay, what?"
"If this gets to be too much. If you need space or if I push too hard or if you just change your mind, I need you to promise you'll tell me. No matter what." I can tell by the tone of his voice, he won’t take anything but a promise from me.
"I promise."
"Good girl."
There it is again. Those two words that send heat spiraling through my body and a shock straight to my clit.
"You keep saying that," I murmur.
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No."
His smile is slow and devastating. "Then I won't."