He shook his head, meeting her gaze. His was soft, apologetic. “I’m so, so sorry, Willow.”
“I am so, so sick of your apologies, Ethan,” she stated. “I can’t believe I’m in this position right now.”
He reached out to briefly cup her jaw in his hand, and despite her annoyance, she softened, closing her eyes for a few seconds.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when a male voice at the end of the hallway suddenly asked coldly, “Is there a problem back here?”
Gasping and stepping away from Ethan, her gaze jumped to her boss and she shook her head. “Nope, no problem.”
But he wasn’t looking at her, he was looking at Ethan. Ethan thanked him, in the way that people do to dismiss the help, but her boss didn’t budge.
Ethan, upon realizing her boss wasn’t moving, briefly glanced back at Willow, then headed past her into the men’s restroom.
Willow threw her boss an uncertain glance, then walked past him to return to her work station.
After the longest shift of her life, Willow dropped into the driver’s seat of her car and fired up the engine, asking herself if she was absolutely crazy to be heading to Ethan’s apartment.
It didn’t feel like it could end well, which made her want to avoid seeing him altogether.
Ethan, ever the adult, wanted to face things head on. He’d requested her presence, and she got the distinct impression it wasn’t a booty call.
Frankly, she wished it was.
Dread coursed through her as she walked up to his apartment door, pausing before lightly rapping on it.
The door opened and there he stood in a white T-shirt and gray sweats, ready for bed. He looked tired—not from lack of sleep, but from carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and despite everything, she felt a moment of intense guilt for her part in it.
The depth of how much she wanted him came rushing back in his presence. Her calm rationale, her realistic common sense flew away and instead she felt a completely uncharacteristic yearning deep inside of her soul to just keep him, no matter the cost.
He didn’t seem to know what to expect, judging by the guarded look he regarded her with. Willow followed her instincts and wrapped her arms around his neck, melting against him.
Ethan seemed surprised, but then his arms closed around her waist and he tugged her close.
“I hate this,” she muttered.
“I know,” he said, vehemently.
Without letting go, she said, “Tell me why she had your socks.”
A puff of breath against her neck alerted her to a soft laugh or something like it. “From when Caleb was sick. That was a calculated move.”
“Must’ve been a fun dinner,” she remarked.
His grip around her waist finally eased and he leaned back, so she dropped her arms around his shoulders, but remained close.
“You have no idea,” he said.
“Oh, I think I have an idea,” she disagreed. “My boss thinks I’m a skanky homewrecker now, so thanks for that.”
“Was that the guy from the hallway? I didn’t like him.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Trust me, he didn’t like you either.”
“I think he’s a little too worried about your love life.”
She could hear his jealous side creeping in, and while she pulled a dry face, it made her heart happy. “Trust me, Aaron is just nosey. He’s married.”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “Like that matters.”