Secret Desires (Roughshod Rollers MC 4)

And, tomorrow, I can start planning how to talk to Ethan.

“Can you come over tonight?”

I look at the message the next day. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve looked at it since I got it this morning. I still don’t know how to reply. What does Ethan want to talk about, especially after I asked him, on Thursday, to give me some time?

It’s Sunday, now, and there hasn’t been nearly enough time. I’m not sure there ever will be. Just seeing Ethan last night, when I arrived to pick Lily up for the carnival, had been hard. When he gave me a small smile, I almost burst into tears. In the end, I didn’t go to the front door when I dropped Lily off, just waved goodbye to the two of them when he stepped outside on our arrival.

Is that what he wants to talk about? But that doesn’t make sense, Ethan knows that I need time.

The only other explanation is that something has happened, and he needs his best friend. But that’s an entirely different matter. Can I be his best friend for him right now, straight after he broke my heart?

My first, immediate answer, is yes. I need to talk to him, anyway, and I’ve always been there for Ethan, through everything. But I need to think about it. Being Ethan’s best friend and going around there to talk to him about what’s bothering him will definitely be painful. Maybe it would be better to just stay away until…

Until it stops hurting? I snort. Good fucking luck with that. It’s never going to stop. I’ll always look at Ethan and wistfully think about what I almost had with him.

“What I could still have,” a tiny voice reminds me, and I think about the decision I made on Friday, and the promise I made to Lily yesterday; I’m not going anywhere.

Despite everything, Ethan is still my best friend in the world. He’s always been there and I still want to be there for him. If I don’t go tonight, then I’ll just have to go through all of this again next time he messages or I need to speak to him.

I can do this.

Before I can second guess my decision, I send Ethan a message back.

“Yes.”

I wonder how that answer makes him feel. Dread at having to face me? Relieved that I’m not actually avoiding him? Happy that we’re starting to get back on even ground?

My phone vibrates with an incoming message, and I glance at it.

“6 ok?”

Six? I glance at my clock. It’s four now. It’s been several hours since I first got that message. I raise an eyebrow. I was planning on going right now before I talked myself out of it. Why does Ethan want me to arrive at a specific time?

I narrow my eyes. What’s going on here?

“6 is fine,” I slowly reply.

It’s not my nature to be suspicious. But Ethan is acting oddly. It’s Sunday, so he doesn’t work. Last night, Lily told me, specifically, that she and her father were just going to hang out at home today, so he doesn’t have to pick his daughter up or take her anywhere. So why a time when he’s usually always just told me to “come when you can”?

“Thanks,” Ethan replies. “See you then!”

The message is chipper, which also doesn’t make sense if Ethan is calling me over for some sort of problem. Maybe he just wants to talk, to find our footing after everything that happened between us? The thought warms me, but setting a time still doesn’t make sense, in that case.

He’s up to something. I’m just not sure what it is.

Then, suddenly, it dawns on me. Polly must be there. She’ll probably be gone by six, and that’s why Ethan doesn’t want me to go around. I’m half tempted to just go over there anyway; the woman needs to be knocked down a few pegs. But I roll my eyes and resist the temptation, heading into my living room to watch some television instead.

I’ll just be patient and ask Ethan about it at six.

I pull up in Ethan’s driveway and look around, confused. There are…a lot of cars and bikes parked around this house. There are three motorbikes and four cars, and none of them belong to Ethan.

What’s going on?

Frowning, I leave my car and head cautiously to the front door. The lights are on and I can hear people talking inside. I hesitate and then knock; normally, I would just walk straight in, but I’m not sure where Ethan and I stand right now, and if I’m allowed to do that. Also, I get the feeling I’m missing something about just why I’m here.

The door swings open and Ethan looks out, confused. His expression clears when he sees me.

“Georgia,” he says with a small, anxious smile. “Why didn’t you use your key?”