Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
BLAKE
It’s been hours since Ethan dropped me off and I’m still pissed at myself. There must be something wrong with me for even considering forgiving him. Am I that lonely that I’d prefer Ethan to no one at all? That desperate to land the internship at St. Luke’s?
I’ve read the same line three times on the screen in front of me and nothing’s sinking in. Shutting my screen, I flop back against my pillows and close my eyes. I knew my second year of med school would be the toughest, but I guess I never took personal life issues into consideration.
I’ve already lost most of my undergrad friends from being “a bore.” Their words. The only one still hanging on is Falin, but she’s so far away.
Ethan is all I have left here, so it makes sense that I’m trying to hold on to our relationship. He gets my need to succeed. To get the coveted internships and graduate at the top of our class. Yeah, his reasons are to appease his parents whereas mine are entirely self-motivated, but at least they align.
A headache creeps in from the base of my neck, and my stomach growls, reminding me again of my non-existent lunch. Mischa’s downstairs with one of her equally snooty girlfriends. I could wait her out. Starvation is far superior to conversing with them.
I grab my phone to put on some background noise. Anything to distract me from my grumbling stomach. For some unknown reason, I open up my photo album and scroll through the photos from Jake’s party. There’s only a few, and one of them is of Jake’s cat. I find the one I’m looking for, a selfie of me and Ethan sitting on a couch, holding glasses of wine. I was happy, right?
My smile wasn’t exactly natural, but I looked comfortable. Ethan’s eyes were already glassy and the night had just begun. Knowing him, he probably popped some benzos before the party. I can’t believe I didn’t realize at the time.
Flipping through my albums from the past year, I can’t help but notice how few photos I have of other people. There’s a couple of Brennan and me, some with Ethan, but they’re all mostly screenshots of school stuff.
Maybe everyone’s right about me? I’m a bore. A bookworm, studying obsessed, bore . What would Bryan think of me if he were here? He was always the life of the party, always the one to push me out of my shell. God, I miss him.
Out of instinct, I reach up to hold my necklace but then remember that I misplaced it. I’ve barely taken it off since he died, so it can’t have gone far. This room is kind of a disaster too. If I clean then maybe I’ll find it.
Turning my emo playlist up, I spend the next hour folding clothes and organizing paperwork. I put my dirty clothes in a hamper in the closet and straighten out my makeup and jewelry on my dresser.
I look everywhere and still don’t find it. I’ll have to check lost and found at school. Or maybe Ethan has it… although that’s doubtful since today was the first time I’ve seen him in over a week.
Pausing my music, I crack my door and listen for Mischa. When all I hear is blissful silence, I head into the kitchen to make myself something to eat. It’ll be another night of dinner, Netflix, and early bedtime so I’ll be rested for classes tomorrow.
Our fridge is full of leftover appetizers from Mischa’s party, food full of soy and wheat. The very ingredients that’ll throw me into anaphylaxis with one bite. The only other edible thing is a bagged salad. After checking the sad status of my bank account and seeing that DoorDash isn’t an option, I grab the salad and dump it into a bowl with some safe balsamic dressing.
Ethan’s comment from earlier keeps playing in my head as I shove bites of lettuce into my mouth. The words swirl, looping around and coming back to the same two facts. Fat and boring . That’s all I am to him. To everyone.
I can’t take another bite or I’ll barf.
Pushing the bowl aside, I cross the house and yank the front door open. I’m desperate for air… for anything that will ease the acid roiling in my gut.
Hunched over, I gulp a few deep breaths and let the cool air wash over my exposed skin until I’m covered in goosebumps. An unexpected noise from across the yard startles me. I redirect my gaze in its direction but it’s too dark to see anything beyond a few feet in front of me. The worn stone wall that surrounds the perimeter of the property should make me feel safe, yet I keep staring, wondering what lies behind it.
A chill seeps down to my bones. I shiver, unable to shake the feeling that someone or something is watching me. Wrapping my arms around my chest, I stare into the darkness taking in the stark tree limbs swaying in the breeze.
As I’m about to go inside, headlights turn the corner, illuminating the yard. “Nothing’s there. You’re seriously losing it.”
Those headlights get brighter as the car turns into the driveway. Not just any car—Ethan’s white Mercedes.
“What is he doing here?” Wrapping my arms around my chest to ward off the chill, I contemplate sprinting inside and hiding upstairs. He’d leave after a few minutes… I think.
While my feet and brain take their time waging war against each other, Ethan gets out of the car and makes it halfway down the walkway.
“Bee?” He clutches his chest in surprise. “What are you doing out here?”
I give him a quick assessment. He doesn’t look drunk, but I was never any good at realizing when he was high.
“Getting some air. Why are you here?” I force my face into a neutral expression and shift my hands to my hips.
He opens his mouth to start talking but I’m distracted again by a rustling sound in the yard.
“Wait… Quiet for a second,” I say, bringing my finger to his lips.
“What?” he asks, his voice muffled.
“Shh. I think something’s out there.”
We pause for a few breaths, listening. Nothing breaks the silence—no nightbird’s calls. No branches rattling in the breeze. No distant car engines. Only eerie silence.
Ethan grabs my finger and sucks it between his lips. I hate myself when my stomach flips and tingles spread along my skin.
“Nothing’s there, Bee. Let’s go inside.” He grabs my palm and kisses the outside, holding it to his lips for an extra beat. Drawn to his warmth, I move in closer, grateful for his familiar comfort.
I’m disappointed in myself for allowing him to squeeze through the crack of the wall I’ve carefully constructed. But I shove that thought away and nod, letting him pull me inside.
Forgetting that he’s never been to my room here, I lead him down the hall, both of us quiet. I’m sure he realizes that one wrong word would get him a swift kick out into the cold.
His lips are on mine before I can close the door, kissing me hard and fast, pushing his tongue between my teeth. I open for him, trying with all my might to clear my mind of the intense resentment I feel in his presence and instead focus on my senses. The feeling of his palms as he grips my ass. The sounds of my moans into his parted lips. The smell of his body wash, so familiar to me. The taste of his tongue as he glides it against mine.
“You missed me, didn’t you, baby?” He speaks low against my ear. “I knew it.”
I grip his shirt, unsure if I want to shove him away or pull him closer. Before I decide, he yanks my sweats down with one hand and palms my tit with the other. I’m only wearing a tank top with no bra and the scratch of the fabric against my tight nipple is unfortunately exquisite.
He plunges two fingers inside me, rougher than normal, and I yelp against his lips. “So wet for me. Get on the bed so I can show you what you’ve been missing.”
I push my laptop to the side and climb onto the comforter, pulling my pants and underwear down the rest of the way. He’s not wrong, I am wet for him. I hate myself.
He doesn’t hesitate, just shoves his jeans down to his ankles and kneels in front of me. I reach for him, craving connection. Warm body against warm body. That’s all this is. No feelings, only need.
Slowly, I slide my hands under his shirt and run my fingernails over his sensitive skin until he hisses in a breath. I’m desperate for him to reciprocate. Touch me, anywhere, in any way.
But he doesn’t.
He lunges forward, hovering over my body, and glides the head of his cock over my wet slit. I gasp and buck my hips, attempting to give myself the pressure I crave. When I reach to touch myself, Ethan grabs my hand and holds it above my head while he jerks his cock inside me.
I close my eyes and retreat into the safe space in my mind. If I try hard enough, maybe I can feel good with Ethan. At least sex is easy with him. Comfortable, if dull. But dull can be a positive thing sometimes.
While he pumps his hips, realization hits me and I tense my muscles. “Wait, did you bring a condom?”
Mid-thrust, he stops and curses. “No. Why would I?”
He starts to press into me again but I lurch backwards, knocking him off-balance. “We can’t do this. Not without protection.”
“Fuck.” He kneels and takes a few deep breaths before moving toward me. “You can’t leave me like this, Bee. Come on, baby. Look at what you do to me.” He strokes his cock and gazes at me with hooded, expectant eyes.
I know what he wants from just that look. Even as he climbs off the bed and lines his swollen cock up with my mouth. “Suck it, baby. You’re so good with that mouth.”
Every bit of romantic feeling that was bubbling in my chest falls flat the second he pushes his cock past my lips. I want to shove him away. To bite it. To make him hurt.
But of course, I don’t.
I open wide and he rams his cock to the back of my throat, pumping himself in and out like I’m nothing more than a hole to be filled. “Yes, fuuuck, Bee. Suck it, baby. Hollow your cheeks.”
Tears leak down my face as his cock hits the back of my throat again and again. I pump the base of his dick with my fist, wanting to finish him quicker. To be done with him tonight.
“Goddamn, baby.” He pulls himself out to the tip and pushes back in, making me gag. Images of him with that undergrad fill my mind. The way her head was thrown back as she rode him. The look in his eyes before he realized I’d come into the room. The sounds they made. His grunts reminded me of a feral pig. The same grunts he let loose now.
Screw him.
I yank my head back and shove him off me at the same time, grinning as he stumbles on his ass.
“What the fuck?” he spits. “Bee, I was about to come.”
“You have a hand. Finish yourself off.” I smile in triumph as I wipe my mouth and grab my clothes.
“You’re a real bitch lately, you know that?” He fists his cock, jerking it hard and fast, filling my bedroom with his groans. “This what you want, Bee? To make me suffer?”
With one last thrust his body trembles and he comes, shooting onto my comforter. I watch him hold his dick and catch his breath, pissed that as much as I hate him, seeing him finish himself turned me on.
“You should go,” I say. I need time to dissect what the hell tonight was and if I was being honest, I needed to make myself come after being left high and dry.
He pulls his pants up and tucks his softening cock away. “Yeah, I’ll go.” Hesitating for a moment, he adds, “Are we still going to the gala next week?”
My eyes roll of their own accord. “Yes, I said I would go so I’ll go.”
He inclines his chin and leaves without another word.
While I lie in my bed, equally frustrated and angry, my phone pings.
Ethan: I’m sorry, Bee. I want us to go back to how we were but I get that you’re not ready. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.
I reread the message a few times, sitting with his words. I have no idea what to feel anymore. Do I want what he wants? To go back to how things were when I’m not sure they were working to begin with.
I pull off my sweats and get ready for bed. Ethan’s cum spot is half dry on my black bedding by the time I wipe it down with a damp cloth. Nothing about seeing it there is sexy. Not anymore.
Clouds shift in the dark sky, to reveal the shining half-moon. Its light casts a pearly glow into my window. I close my eyes and rub my clit until I come. It’s quick and efficient. As my eyes flutter open, I swear I see a shadow shift outside my window. My pulse quickens as I dart to a sitting position and grab my phone.
Is Ethan that desperate that he’d creep outside my window? I call him, forcing my breathing to slow with each ring.
“Hey, I’m glad you called. I was starting to think you were still mad.”
“Where are you?” I ask.
“Home. You don’t have to check up on me, Bee. I told you it was one time.” He continues rambling about trust and how he loves me but I barely hear him.
I’m too focused on the shadowy form outside my window. “Ethan, someone’s outside.”
There’s a tremor in my voice as I stumble away from the window. “It’s probably a deer or something,” Ethan says. “Did you lock up when I left?”
Shit. I didn’t.
“Stay on the phone with me.” My legs shake but I push myself to jog down the hall and to the front door. I have no idea where Mischa is or if she’s even coming home, but if she does, she has a key.
I lock the door and run back to my room, shutting the door and locking it. I’m panting when I register Ethan’s voice again. “All good now?”
“I think so,” I say.
He laughs and tells me he’ll see me tomorrow before ending the call.
I glance at the window, feeling equally curious and terrified. Was I seeing things? It’s been a long, emotional day. Maybe I’m just jumpy. I’m still not used to living this far outside of town in a house this old and creaky. It’s like something out of a horror movie being this deep in the woods.
I stare at the space in the yard for a full minute, finding nothing amiss. It’s another hour before I fall asleep, imagining a pair of dark watching eyes beneath my closed lids.