Ethan shook his head. “No, I’m not going to get shit-faced, I just need a shot.”
Instead of going to a bar, Ethan stopped and bought a bottle of whiskey.
Willow hadn’t actually thought he would agree to it—had never expected to suggest it!—so as she sat silently in the passenger seat, watching out the window as he pulled onto the road, her mind raced.
Could she change her mind already? It wouldn’t prove much of anything, but she suddenly felt insecure. Ethan was a grown man, and she had never tried to seduce anyone before. What if she just looked stupid? What if it was incredibly awkward? What if it brought back memories that she didn’t want to surface? What if—worst case scenario—he was wrong and he did lose control of himself? Reliving her horror in nightmares was bad enough, but reliving it physically and all because of her own stupid idea? Well, that would destroy her.
He probably thought she was so dumb.
He was probably just agreeing out of guilt.
Then he pulled into a hotel parking lot.
“Um…what are we doing here?” she inquired, shifting uncomfortably.
“If we’re going to do this, we might as well do it right,” he reasoned.
“We’re not going to have sex though,” she reminded him, alarmed.
“I know. This will be more comfortable. Plus, whatever it is you’re planning, I really don’t want to get caught in the backseat of my car with an open container and an 18-year-old girl. This will give us some privacy.”
That was a good point. She hadn’t even thought of getting caught.
“It’s just pretend though,” she insisted, more for herself than for him. “Just…a test.”
“Of course.” He glanced over at her. “If you’re nervous, we don’t have to do this.”
It was the out she had just been considering, but suddenly having him offer it changed her mind. Shaking her head, she said, “No. I may never get a chance like this again and… I would be pretty horrified if during my next actual sexual encounter I have a panic attack or something. I want to do a test run. This was my idea.”
Ethan nodded. “If you change your mind at any point, just say so.”
Since Ethan obviously didn’t want to be seen checking into a hotel room with her, he told her to stay in the car while he went inside and got a room.
While she understood the need for discretion, it also made her incredibly nervous to sit in the car by herself. She kept fidgeting with her hands and looking out the window. The parking lot was well-lit, but she still kept imagining some goons showing up outside the door and ripping it open, yanking her out of the car kicking and screaming, taking her away to her own personal hell—again.
One would think that having a father with an illegal criminal organization at his disposal might allow for some kind of security, but apparently that was not the case. It actually pissed her off how little he seemed to care that she had been abducted by bastards purely because she was related to him.
Absently checking her phone—as if he would call her that late, or at all—she saw that nothing had changed
Since her brain had the worst timing ever, it chose that moment to throw her back into the past, lying on a dingy mattress in the dark room, then that bastard coming in to get her and hauling her out to the main room where she would eventually see Ethan for the first time. He was dressed like the other flunkies—his jeans were a little baggy, his t-shirt a size too big, his raven hair was a little mussed, a shadow along his jaw betraying the fact that he hadn’t shaved recently. His eyes stood out though—alert, not fo
ggy like the other guys, who were always high. Also, they were a striking shade of blue, which she might have appreciated if he hadn’t been in the process of making her worst fears a reality.
Back in the present, she wondered, Do I really want to do this?
Then Ethan stepped through the doors and made his way back toward the car, and a rush of warmth washed over her. He looked so much different as himself. Less rugged—his hair wasn’t messy, no hint of stubble on his jaw, and he was actually wearing a suit, which is what she usually saw him in, so she assumed he must dress that way for work. It made sense—it made him look more professional…and more delectable, since a man in a suit pretty much always looked good.
Still, her first impression of him was flitting around the edges of her memory and putting her slightly on edge. What would her emotional response be if she put herself in a similar situation all over again?
Then again, maybe it would be the same even if he was anyone else, and then she would have to explain her freak-out to whomever that happened to be—and she did not plan on sharing that event with anyone in the future, if she could help it.
Ethan approached the passenger door and opened it. “All right, we’re good to go,” he told her.
Nodding a bit anxiously, she put a foot out of the door and stood, watching him close the door behind her and following him to the hotel entrance two doors down.
“Should we move the car closer?” she asked.
It wasn’t far, but since she was still constantly in fear of being attacked at night, even a couple of yards closer would make her feel better.