Willow and Ethan watched two movies together, but the longer she stayed, the more she regretted being curled up on opposite ends of the couch.
When the last movie ended, she was tempted to stay for another just to prolong her time with him. She was also tired and didn’t want to risk falling asleep, lest she have to explain that to her mothers.
Especially since they would probably grow worried and call Brian to check on her. Since he was her cover story for the evening, that wouldn’t go over well.
Ethan walked her out since she still wasn’t comfortable in the dark. They lingered outside her car, exchanging light-hearted comments and pretending they were only friends.
At least, that’s what she was doing.
Her gaze kept drifting back to his beautiful mouth. Her imagination stirred, conjuring fantasies of him pushing her right up against that car, reminding her of the magic that coursed through her entire body when he kissed her.
Dammit.
She’d anticipated the risk—especially when she found herself changing clothes before she
went to see him—but she hadn’t imagined he would actually make a move so fast, even if he was mostly single.
Dammit, dammit, dammit.
Once Ethan stopped lingering and went back inside, she checked her phone. Three guilt-inducing messages from Brian, asking if she still planned to stop by the party like she said she would earlier.
Despite it being nearly midnight, she said she would stop by to say hi.
The whole way there she thought about Ethan. Couldn’t stop, even when she tried. His manly scent when her body was pressed up against his, the feel of his lips on her neck, the sound of his voice when he talked to her, his straight white teeth when he gave her that fond little smile that made her light up inside.
As she made her way inside her boyfriend’s house, she brainstormed ways to go back to being just friends with Brian, but friendly enough that she didn’t have to tell her parents they broke up.
She hoped with enough time Lauren and Ashlynn might open their minds about Ethan, but she knew better. She’d never seen either of her parents dig in so firmly about anything before, but no matter her argument or the toll it took on their own relationships, her mothers refused to budge.
Lauren no longer acknowledged what happened, but Ashlynn would never forgive him. No matter how many times Willow pointed out that he hadn’t been a willing participant, Ashlynn refused to listen. Since Ethan was also inconveniently married, even on days she was flexible enough to consider Willow’s position on the rape, there was always the fact that he’d made her the other woman and cheated on his wife with her. Not exactly something he would’ve done if he was the stand-up guy Willow tried to convince them he was.
Eventually Willow gave up trying to convince them. They didn’t want to see it as anything but sordid, so they wouldn’t. Maybe they couldn’t.
When she started talking to Brian, Lauren had been so pleased and Ashlynn even liked him more than she would have pre-Ethan, simply because he was more age-appropriate. Willow was just glad for the reprieve. Her once harmonious parental relationships had become fraught with stubborn dissension, and Brian’s presence was like a fresh ocean breeze cutting through walls of hellfire.
At the start, she never intended to use Brian; he was a fun guy to be around and he was willing to pick her up get her out of the house. It wasn’t until Ashlynn started letting her use the car to go see him when he couldn’t drive to get her that she realized she could get more of her privileges back if her parents thought the threat of Ethan had been lifted.
She even liked Brian… just not nearly as much as she liked Ethan.
The fact that she was the one that had to stop him when he was clearly ready to bring a frequent dream of hers to fruition made her incredibly sad.
As soon as she stepped inside Brian’s rented house, Willow nearly collided with a lip-locked couple groping each other against the counter.
“Cool,” she muttered, averting her gaze and passing the couple, unnoticed, to head into the living room where all the noise was coming from.
They had a table—well, something like a table, constructed of rough lumber and able to support the weight of half-filled red Solo cups—in front of the television set. The couch was full of people, more than a little drunk, and one shaggy haired kid was face-down in the floor behind the couch.
Willow turned to Brian, who grasped a bottle of vodka in one hand. His other hand was occupied with an attempt to shove a shot in the face of a giggling blonde girl. While she laughed, she shoved his arm and turned away from the alcohol.
“You guys start early or what?” Willow asked.
Brian perked up, his blue-green eyes brightening and a grin splitting his face. “Hey, you made it!”
Willow offered a little smile, and the blonde turned around curiously.
“Oh, hey, Willow.”
“Hey, Candace,” Willow returned. She had met nearly all of Brian’s many, many friends by that point, and made a point of remembering most of their names.