Chapter 6
Ifloat through the next two days.
There's no other word for it. I'm working harder than I've ever worked as I coordinate last-minute details, confirming vendor arrivals, triple-checking the gift presentations. But underneath it all is this constant hum of happiness.
Ethan and I haven't crossed any major lines since that kiss in his kitchen. But the air between us is charged. Every accidental touch. Every shared glance. Every "good girl" when I finish a task or solve a problem.
It's intoxicating.
Friday afternoon, I'm putting the final touches on the party setup when my phone rings.
Madison.
"Please tell me you're coming tonight," she says without preamble.
"Coming where?"
"Book club. My place. Seven p.m. It's an emergency."
"What's the emergency?"
"You. Obviously. You've been MIA all week, and we need an update."
I haven’t texted much this week, I’ve been busy and well, I haven’t had any answers to give them.
I also haven’t read my chapters either. I pick up my e-reader and I try to read.
One or two sentences later and my mind was wandering back to Ethan.
After rereading the same paragraph three times, and having no idea what was going on, I turned it off.
I glance at my watch. The party is tomorrow. Everything is confirmed and ready. And honestly, I could use a break from the intensity of being in Ethan's orbit.
"Okay. I'll be there."
"Thank God. Holly was threatening to show up at Doctor Mansion's house and drag you out herself."
"That would be awkward."
"That would be hilarious. See you at seven."
She hangs up, leaving me smiling at my phone.
I text Ethan.
Me: Book club emergency meeting tonight. I'm going to head out around six.
Ethan: Everything okay?
Me: They want details about you.
Ethan: Should I be worried?
Me: Probably.
Ethan: Will you come back after?
My heart skips.
Me: Do you want me to?
Ethan: Absolutely. I want you here with me.
Me: Then yes.
Madison's apartment is already full when I arrive. The girls are spread across her living room. It’s amazing that we have the ability to meet in person like this, but with many of their jobs being mobile, it works out.
"She lives!" Holly announces when I walk in.
"I've been busy."
"Working or making out with your hot doctor?" Amber asks innocently.
Heat floods my face. "Working. Mostly."
"Mostly," Madison repeats, handing me a glass of wine. "Interesting qualifier. Sit and spill, but not the wine. We want every detail."
I settle onto the floor next to Emily. "There's not much to tell."
"Liar," they chorus.
"We kissed," I admit. "Once. In his kitchen."
The room erupts.
"I KNEW IT," Holly shouts.
"How was it?" Chloe asks, leaning forward.
"On a scale of one to ten," Maya adds, "how weak did your knees get?"
I take a sip of wine. "Fifteen."
More shrieks of delight.
"Okay, okay." Madison waves her hands for silence. "Details. We need details. Was it soft and sweet? Hard and desperate? Slow burn or instant inferno?"
"All of the above?" I try to find the words. "It started gentle. Like he was asking permission with every touch. Waiting on my consent. I really wanted him to show more aggression, more dominance… And then it just... escalated. Like we'd been holding back for years instead of days."
"That's the good stuff," Holly says approvingly.
"Has he made a move since?" Emily asks.
"Not really. We've been... I don't know. Dancing around it? He calls me 'good girl' when I do something well, and it makes me feel things I probably shouldn't feel in a professional setting."
"Oh, honey," Madison says gently. "This stopped being professional the second he kissed you."
"I know. I just don't know what to do about it."
"What do you want to do about it?" Chloe asks.
I close my eyes. "I want to see where it goes. I want to explore this thing between us. But I'm scared."
"Of what?" Maya's voice is soft.
"Of getting hurt. Of being wrong about him. Of wanting something I can't have. Like the movie Pretty Woman. I feel like Julia Roberts’ character, swept up in a world I’m not from and don’t belong in, a world I can’t have."
"Can't have or shouldn't have?" Amber challenges.
I look at her. "Is there a difference?"
"Huge difference. Can't means it's impossible. Shouldn't means society says it's wrong. But society is full of garbage rules that don't actually matter."
"The age gap—"
"Is between two consenting adults," Madison interrupts. "Lily, you're not a child. You're a grown woman who knows what she wants."
"Do I, though? Because three days ago I was delivering groceries, and now I'm planning parties for millionaire doctors and making out in their kitchens."
"Life comes at you fast," Holly says philosophically.
Emily touches my arm. "Can I say something?"
"Please."
"I've known you for two years. In that time, I've watched you make yourself smaller to fit into other people's expectations.
You take the safe path. The practical path.
You never take risks." She squeezes my arm.
"But this is the time you choose to do something for yourself.
Be selfish for once. Ethan and the relationship that comes with him, scares you and excites you in equal measure, right? "
I nod.
"Then don't talk yourself out of it because it doesn't fit the plan you had."
Tears prick my eyes. "What if I screw it up?"
"Then you'll screw it up and we'll be here with wine and chocolates," Chloe says firmly. "But what if you don't? What if this is the thing that changes everything?"
"Ty was terrified when we started," Madison admits. "He eventually told me that he thought the age gap made him a creep. That people would judge. That I'd wake up one day and realize I wanted someone my own age."
"What changed his mind?"
"I did. I told him I didn't care what people thought. That I knew what I wanted, and I wanted him." She smiles. "Sometimes you have to fight for the thing that scares you most. Because it's usually the thing worth fighting for."
"Look at you being all wise and mature," Holly teases.
"I have my moments."
I wipe at my eyes. "I really like him. Like, scary amounts."
"We know," Maya says gently.
"Is it too soon to feel this way?"
"Feelings don't operate on timelines," Emily says. "When you know, you know. You feel what you feel when you feel it. The question is what you're going to do about it."
"The party is tomorrow. After that, the job is technically done."
"But the relationship doesn't have to be," Amber points out.
"We haven't talked about what happens after."
"Then talk about it," Chloe suggests. "Communication is sexy, remember?"
I finish my wine. "You're right and he is big on communication, I guess I need to talk to him."
"Tonight?" Holly asks hopefully.
"Tonight."
I show up at Ethan's house at ten p.m.
He opens the door looking surprised but pleased. "I thought you might stay at the meeting longer."
"I needed to see you."
Something shifts in his expression. Is he worried? "Come in."
I follow him to the living room, where a fire is crackling in the fireplace.
"Wine?" he offers.
"No. I need a clear head for this conversation."
He sits on the couch, watching me pace. "Should I be worried?"
"No. Maybe. I don't know." I force myself to stop moving. To look at him. "The party is tomorrow."
"It is."
"After that, the job is done."
"Technically, yes."
"So, what happens then?" The words rush out. "With us. Because there's an 'us' now, right? Or am I completely misreading this situation?"
Ethan stands, crossing to me. His hands settle on my shoulders.
"You're not misreading anything," he says quietly. "There's definitely an us."
"Okay. Good. But what does that mean?"
"What do you want it to mean?"
"I asked you first." I need him to take charge, to be Daddy.
His mouth quirks. "Fair enough." He guides me to the couch, sitting beside me. "Here's what I know. I'm forty-two years old. I've had relationships. Some serious, some not. None of them felt like this."
My heart hammers against my ribs.
"This terrifies me," he continues. "Because I barely know you, and yet I can't stop thinking about you.
Wondering what you're doing. If you're eating enough.
If you're pushing yourself too hard." His hand finds mine.
"I want to know everything about you, Lily.
Your favorite color. What you eat for breakfast. What makes you laugh. What scares you."
"Lavender," I whisper. "Toast with peanut butter. Stupid videos of animals doing human things. And this. You. Us."
"Why does this scare you?"
"Because I don't know how to do it. I've never..." I trail off, struggling to articulate the tangle of feelings. "I've never wanted to give someone this much power over me before."
Understanding flashes in his eyes. "The book."
"What?"
"The book you were reading. The dynamic. Is that what you're talking about?"
Heat floods my face, but I force myself to nod. "I think so. I've always been... curious. But I never had anyone I trusted enough to explore it with."
"And now?"
"Now I'm sitting in your living room at ten p.m., confessing that I want to give you control, and I'm terrified that makes me weak or broken or—"
"Stop." His voice is firm but gentle as he interrupts me. "You're not weak. You're not broken. You're brave."
"How is this brave?"
"Because you're being honest about what you need.
That takes incredible courage." His thumb traces circles on the back of my hand.
"I’m proud of you, baby girl. I've always been.
.. drawn to that dynamic. The idea of caring for someone so completely, guiding and protecting them.
Giving them the freedom to let go because they know I'll keep them safe.
" He pauses. "But I've never found anyone who wanted that the way I did. Until you."
My breath catches. "Really?"
"Really. I’ve noticed the way you respond when I praise you and the way you look at me when I take charge of a situation. The way you relax when I make decisions for you." His free hand cups my cheek. "I see you, Lily. All of you. Including the part that needs this."
Tears blur my vision. "I'm scared I'll mess it up."
"Then we'll mess it up together. We'll talk. We'll adjust. We'll figure out what works for both of us." He leans closer. "But only if you want to try."
Do I want to try?
I look into his eyes and see so much staring back at me. There’s patience and understanding. A willingness to meet me exactly where I am.
"Yes," I whisper. "I want to try."
His smile is radiant. "Then let's start slow. We'll set boundaries. Establish rules. Build trust."
"Rules?"
"For us. Things that keep us both safe, emotionally and physically."
The clinical way he says it should probably kill the mood. Instead, it makes me feel cherished.
"Okay. What kind of rules?"
"That's something we decide together. But here's what I'm thinking." He shifts, pulling me closer so I'm tucked against his side. "You'll always tell me when something doesn't feel right. No matter what. Even if you think I'll be disappointed."
"Okay."
"I'll check in with you regularly. Make sure you're comfortable, feeling respected and cared for."
"What if I don't know how to articulate what I need?"
"Then we'll work on it together. We'll use safe words and a color system. We can do whatever helps you feel safe."
My head is spinning. "You've really thought about this."
"I've wanted this for a long time. I'm not going to rush it or do it halfway." His lips brush my temple. "You deserve better than halfway, Lily."
"I don't even know where to start."
"Start by trusting me. Can you do that?"
I think about the past week. The way he's never pushed me and always made space for me to choose.
"Yes. I trust you."
"Good girl."
Those two little words settle over me like a warm, comfortable blanket.
We sit there for a long time, wrapped up in each other, talking through boundaries and expectations and fears. It's the most honest, vulnerable conversation I've ever had.
And somewhere in the middle of our deep talk, I realize something terrifying and wonderful.
I'm falling for him.
Hard.