Chapter 11 Toeing the Line
A n hour and six shots divided unevenly between Monica and I later, Ethan finally arrived.
“Babe! Hey! Oh my god, hi .”
Monica’s words slurred as she threw herself at Ethan when he found his way through the crowd to where we were on the dance floor. Ethan’s eyes bulged as he caught Monica against his chest before looking at me.
“How much has she had to drink?”
“Since we’ve been here? Two drinks and four shots of rum. Before we got here? A quarter bottle of gin.”
“How much have you had?”
“About half that.”
“Hey!” Monica exclaimed, tearing herself from Ethan’s hold. “I’m callin’ out of work tomorrow so you guys can’t judge me for whatever I do tonight. I’ll start being responsible again tomorrow. Deal with it.”
“Ah, Jeff would be so proud of his shining star right now,” Ethan said with a soft grin.
Monica scoffed. “Jeff can screw right the fuck off.”
“Who’s Jeff?” I asked.
“Some dickhole who can’t be bothered to do any of the work himself and keeps shoving his cases onto me and expects me to be two feet up his ass at all times.”
Confused still, I turned my gaze to Ethan for clarification.
“Her boss.”
“Ah.” The missing puzzle pieces from my earlier question to Monica of why her day was so bad fell into place.
“So, am I to assume that I drove all the way out here to bring you two ladies home and neither of you are ready to go yet?”
“Guilty as charged, sir. You’ll have to take me by force.” She gave Ethan a not-so-subtle wink, and right then and there, I developed a craving for another shot.
I hated feeling like the third wheel.
“Yeah, I’m gonna go get another drink actually—”
“Wait! Can you stay here and keep Ethan company while I go pee? Then when I come back, we can get a drink together!”
Not only did I think Monica didn’t need another drink by the way her eyes were glazing over, but I also really didn’t want to be left alone with Ethan again. Every time he and I were alone, the conversation turned uncomfortable somehow and the spotlight always got forced onto me.
Like right now.
“Uh—” I stuttered, half distracted by the music that had just gotten noticeably louder and my sister’s impatient gaze. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you to the bathroom?”
“What? No, I’m fine.” Monica waved me off. “Just stay here and I’ll be back in five!”
Before I could protest further, she was walking away from us both, shoving her way through the dancing bodies until she disappeared entirely.
Her absence was felt immediately in the way every nerve in my body heightened and twisted to an uneasy point.
All of my awareness was now on Ethan and the silence between us that somehow overpowered the music around us.
Lifting my gaze to his, I said the first thing that came to mind.
“Do you want a shot?”
His eyebrows rose some, neither judgement nor agreement displayed in the gesture. “Is being alone with me that bad?”
“What? Oh my god, no!” Yes. “I just felt like another shot is all and was trying to be polite…”
Ethan’s gaze was so focused on mine, and I wanted to look away but didn’t feel like I could. The small but effective curve on his lips didn’t help my nerves either.
“No, I’m good,” he said finally. “I’m driving, but we can certainly get you one.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay! I probably don’t need one anyway.”
Truth be told, I’d had a solid buzz going for the last hour. Another shot might tip me over the edge, and that was a line I’d rather not teeter.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, yeah. I have to work in the early afternoon anyway, so I don’t need to be anywhere near Monica’s level right now.”
Ethan nodded, his chest rising as he took in a breath and the corner of his mouth tipped up. “Your sister can definitely throw them back.”
“Yeah, I—” The sounds in the air changed over as did the energy in the room. I gasped. The song that came through the speakers took over my body and charged me up to 100% in less than a second. In that less than a second, I exploded.
“I freaking love this song!”
The music sunk into my pores and melted into my blood, intoxicating it further.
Everyone else in the club felt it too. The joy, the excitement, the rush that the nostalgic song brought on.
My body moved with the song, spinning and bumping into other dancing bodies around me.
Ethan’s laughter mingled in with the beats of the song, and I spun in place to see him.
The grin pulling across his face struck me to see, cinching a wide smile of my own up on my cheeks.
“What?” I asked with a laugh.
He shook his head, the lights of the club catching the amusement in his eyes. “Nothing.”
“Why aren’t you dancing?”
“I don’t dance in clubs.”
“Don’t or can’t?”
“Don’t. I can dance. I just don’t like to in clubs.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t like clubs.”
“Me either!” I exclaimed. “Not usually, at least.”
Ethan awarded me a skeptical look. “You could have fooled me. You look like you’re enjoying yourself just fine.”
“That’s only because I’ve been drinking and this place doesn’t smell like ass,” I shouted over the music, not once stopping my hips natural rhythmic movement.
“Hey!” Ethan’s stare burst with excitement. “You cursed!”
“Yeah, I tend to have much looser lips whenever I’ve been drinking.”
One of his umber brows arched, and just before he looked away and to the floor, I caught a hint of an impish smile on his lips.
“Loose lips are a recipe for trouble usually.”
Don’t I know it .
If they became any looser, I’d end up telling Ethan how hot he looked right now, still in his work slacks and button up shirt. He’d undone a couple buttons at the top since he arrived here, and the small show of skin was doing me no favors.
“Eh, trouble tends to skip over me once it’s seen the damage heartbreak has done.” Laughing at my own misery normally felt good, but the sadness that crept into Ethan’s eyes cut any laughter off at the ankles.
“Alice—” Whatever he was about to say was tossed aside when a woman dancing next to us toppled hips first into me. There was no time to even gasp as my feet stumbled and I tried to catch myself to no avail.
Thankfully or unthankfully, someone else caught me instead.
Large, sturdy hands locked around my waist and righted my body with one brisk tug.
I found myself staring right at Ethan, his mouth moving but no words making themselves clear to me. Shocked and unable to think of anything that wasn’t the last three, quick seconds of my life, I blinked several times at him, breathing heavier than before.
“What?” I yelled. The music had again shifted songs and the club was thumping too loudly to hear anything.
Ethan’s face creased in annoyance, and then my body was moving with the force of his firm hands still stationed around my waist until I was against him.
My breasts pushed up against his chest, my stomach coming flush with his, and an alarm louder than any music in the club began to ring inside of my head as Ethan’s face disappeared past my vision.
“Are you okay?”
His voice raced across my collarbone and up the side of my neck. In the mildly intoxicated state I was already in, his velvet voice and commanding hands were extra shots of adrenaline that I didn’t need.
“Yeah,” I breathed out. I pulled myself back from him about a foot.
The music was all around us as we stood there, his hands still holding my waist tight.
Every sound of the bass hitting the atmosphere felt like something in the air beating down on my chest the longer Ethans stare lingered.
Soon enough, the music I relied so heavily on for safety and security had turned punishing—accusing.
Because music knew me better than anyone else.
Music knew me inside and out and my darkest and my deepest emotions. It knew how I was feeling and what I was thinking and knew just how wrong all of it was. It knew that this moment between us felt like the one we’d had almost a week ago in the living room.
He’d held me as he was now with the very same intensity dancing along the darkness in his eyes as we danced the line of what was appropriate and what I would try my hardest not to dream about tonight.
Thankfully, as if sent to me by the song itself, someone dancing behind Ethan bumped into him, sending both he and I toppling. My back hit another body and just as I was preparing my apologies, the person attacked first.
“Fucking watch it! Clumsy bitch.”
The cruel voice of a man hit a sour note within me that vibrated continuously, building louder and angrier as he kept spewing out insults.
“Hey man, keep your fucking girlfriend in her place or I’ll shove her back next time.”
Ethan’s fingers tightened around my waist, imprinting his anger into me. I could feel his rage and intent to react burning into my back against him. Though, before he could retaliate, I did.
Whipping around, I found the scruffy faced jerk standing right in front of me and the growing vibration snapped within me.
“He’s not my boyfriend, you assuming asshole. He’s my brother!”
In an instant, confusion masked over the rude stranger’s face just as a coolness washed over my waist as Ethan snatched his hands back to himself.
The man’s expression scrunched together as he eyed me and then Ethan. “Fucking gross.”
Pride swelled my chest as the man backed away from us like we were infectious.
As soon as he left, an overwhelming sense of accomplishment swept over me, and soft laughter bubbled up my throat.
Turning to face Ethan, I found him standing back farther than he was before and his hands shoved down into his pockets.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I just wanted to see his face.” Which was so worth it.
“He definitely looked disgusted,” Ethan agreed. His eyes stayed low, and I wondered for a second if I’d made him uncomfortable for a change. What a turn of events that would be.
“We’re not actually related though, so that was technically a lie.”
His stare darted up from the floor and over past my head. Maybe he was searching for Monica?