Chapter 11 #2
Megan crosses her arms over her chest and studies me, her dark eyes—the shape of them so similar to Ethan’s—narrowing.
“A one-night stand takes place once. And my brother doesn’t do one-night stands.
Trust me. I know far too much about his personal life than I would like to.
He doesn’t give me his credit card to shop for a woman who is not family.
He doesn’t smile the way he does when he’s with you, and he doesn’t spend the night in a woman’s bed.
In fact, the only time I remember him having a girlfriend was for a few months and that was in college. ”
My fingers press into the menu, the expensive paper crinkling. “He doesn’t date?”
“Well, he’s dated, sure,” she informs me, taking a sip of her water, “but he’s very selective.
He definitely doesn’t do one-night stands.
In the past five years, he’s been obsessed with—” Her eyes narrow as she stares at my hair.
“Didn’t you say that my brother and you knew each other from a couple of years ago? ”
I shrug awkwardly, suddenly very interested in the dessert section. “Something like that.”
Her lips spread into a wide Cheshire smile, and she leans forward, resting her chin on her folded fingers.
“You know something interesting? My brother has recently become quite obsessed with red hair. In fact, I would say it’s been a few years.
He went out with two or three actresses, just dinner dates, and he only said yes to them because of their hair color. ”
I stare at her, my heart skipping a beat. “I don’t follow.”
“Something happened between you and my brother a couple of years ago, didn’t it?” She grins, clearly delighted by her deduction. “He’s never acted the way he does around you. He’s never brought a girl home before. I had my suspicions, but now I’m sure of it. He’s playing for keeps.”
A strange emotion blooms within me, something between fear and hope. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that, like it or not, Natalie, my brother has committed to you. And I’m starting to think that you are the one who’s trying to run away from him. Did I hit the nail on the head?”
My mouth is dry, my pulse racing. “Ethan isn’t committing to me?—”
She leans back in her chair, gesturing dismissively with her hand.
“Please. The few women he’s gone out with, he’s acted like a cold, arrogant jerk.
Do you know how many women have tried to tie him down?
The ones he paid the slightest attention to all had red hair like you and similar builds.
But it’s never progressed past dinner. They’re all too boring or too chatty.
Now I understand why he was acting this way. None of those women were you.”
I feel the heat bloom across my face, spreading to the tips of my ears. “You must’ve misunderstood?—”
“There’s oblivious, and then there’s you.
” Megan rolls her eyes. “If you don’t want to see what’s right in front of you, no one can help you.
But I’ll say it out loud for you, Natalie.
My brother has feelings for you. And seeing as how I grew up with him, I know what I’m talking about.
Maybe you should take your head out of the sand for five minutes. ”
“You’re very rude,” I mutter, trying to deal with this onslaught of information that’s making my head spin.
“So I’ve been told.” Megan motions towards one of the servers, her diamond bracelet catching the light. “But somebody needs to call you out on your bullshit.”
“Very, very rude,” I mutter, wishing I could form a more eloquent retort.
She just smiles sweetly at me. “I like you, too. My brother has impeccable taste. Now let’s eat.”
I gape at her, lost for words.
A force of nature. She’s like a tornado that rolls in, leaving havoc in its wake.
By the time Fergus drops me at the hotel, I’m in a daze, my mind a jumble of conflicting thoughts.
I head to my room, desperate to lie down, only to find Ethan sitting where I left him this morning.
He’s not even changed his clothes. He’s got a phone pressed to one ear and his tablet in the other hand.
When his eyes land on me, they widen, taking in my transformation. However, he lifts up his finger, continuing his conversation with the other person on the line. “Fine. We’ll be back by the day after tomorrow. Come in the evening, after work. Natalie will sort you out.”
He ends the call, and then turns to stare at me. “Your hair. What did she do to your hair?”
He looks almost distraught, his expression so uncharacteristically open that it catches me off guard. His reaction has me feeling slightly defensive.
I set down the shopping bags and touch the ends of my hair, the strands silky against my fingertips. “You don’t like it? Megan said it made me look edgy.”
He walks over to me and examines it, his gaze intense. Before I can stop him, he reaches out and grabs a fistful of it lightly.
“Ethan!” I protest, startled by the sudden contact.
He lets go, sighing. “Well, it’s done. You do look beautiful with the short hair, but I can’t get a good grip with this much?—”
My eyes widen as I realize why he’s so upset. I smack him in the chest, the solid muscle unyielding beneath my palm. “You pervert! That’s what had you worked up?!”
He frowns, not the least bit apologetic. “It’s a genuine concern. Anyway, did you have a fun trip?”
I watch him smile at me, and his sister’s words come rushing back. Is it true? Doesn’t he smile around other people?
I recall the family dinner he took me to. He wasn’t surly, but he was a little aloof. Even when he talks to Clarice or his brothers, he always holds himself back, just a little bit. He barely smiles.
My heart skips a beat. Why? Why is he so focused on me?
When I don’t answer, his smile fades. “What? Did anything happen?”
“You do know that you have your own hotel room, don’t you?” I finally ask, evading his question.
“I prefer your room.” His response is simple, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Do you want to swap rooms?”
His lips twitch. “No.”
I walk over to sit down on the couch which he just vacated, the leather cool against my bare legs. “I’m never going shopping with your sister again.”
“That bad?” He looks curious, a hint of exasperation in his eyes. “What did she do?”
I just gesture towards the shopping bags, and he rifles through them, his movements precise and controlled. When he turns around, he actually looks disappointed. “Only three dresses? ”
I gape at him, incredulous. “It’s one event, Ethan! Three is two too many! What do you mean by ‘only three’?”
Ethan opens one of the boxes and raises a brow. “Forest green?”
I’m too tired to move, and I peer at the box from where I’m sitting. “Is that the one she bought? I have no idea. I was just begging her to leave. She made me try on thirty dresses, Ethan. And I counted. I don’t think I can feel my feet. I’m pretty sure they’re swollen.”
I stare down at my throbbing feet, wondering if I can crawl to the bedroom. I just want this day to be over with.
He’s looking over my other purchases, or Megan’s purchases, his expression thoughtful.
At first, I had argued with her about using Ethan’s card.
I may not have any savings, but I can still use my credit card.
She refused to let me, and all the stores she took me to knew her on a first-name basis.
When I tried to shove my card at them or even try to control the situation, I was ignored.
At some point, I had to accept I was in way over my head.
I lean my head back against the couch and close my eyes, exhaustion seeping into my bones.
“Have you been here since I left?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
“I was working.” His reply is noncommittal.
“From my room?” I open an eye to peek at him. “What happened to your room?”
“You’re not there.” He walks over to sit down beside me and opens his laptop, the device humming softly as it powers up.
I glance at him, Megan’s words echoing in my mind.
“You make no sense to me. I’m going to the bedroom.”
I’ve only just gotten up when his hand wraps around my wrist, and he yanks me back. With a startled squeak, I fall into his lap, and Ethan proceeds to wrap his arms around my waist, his eyes still on the laptop screen. “Stay. ”
My eyes widen, and I stare at his face, his very frustratingly handsome face with its perfect angles and warm amber eyes. “Excuse you? What do you think you’re doing?”
“Holding you,” he answers idly, as he reads a report on the laptop.
“Let me go.”
“No.” His reply is short and calm, brooking no argument.
“This is not?—”
“If you use the word ‘appropriate’ or any formation of it, I’m going to have to remind you of how you attacked me last night.”
My lips part as I try to form words, cheeks burning. “I—That was not—I told you I was drunk!”
He shuts down his laptop and leans back on the couch, pulling me closer against his solid chest. “So does this mean that every time you drink, I should expect you to be so aggressive? No complaints here, but I would just like to be prepared so I can keep some alcohol ready?—”
I scowl at him. “It was a one-time thing, and get over yourself.”
Wriggling out of his hold, I stomp off into the bedroom, and when I hear him follow, I lock the door. “Go back to your own room. We’re done here.”
I can hear him chuckle from the other side of the door. “I have to take a video call. The makeup artist will be here in a few hours. We leave by seven.”
I hear the front door close and breathe a sigh of relief. Flopping down on my bed, I scrunch my face when I remember what we got up to in here.
“Agh!” Rolling over, I gaze at the ceiling, conflicted.
I should never have come here. I should never have gone to the fair with him. I should never have slept with him. What was I thinking? I gave the man an inch, and he took six miles. There is no way he’s going to be the slightest bit professional when we return to New York .