“Who is a fucking asshole.”
“He and his new fiancée approached me, totally throwing me for a loop. Gerald asked if I was seeing anyone, and to save myself from humiliation, I lied and pointed at the bar, which happened to be where you were sitting.”
“Lucky me.” Ethan grins.
“And well… you know the rest of the story.”
“The rest of the story, meaning the part where you attacked me?” Ethan laughs.
I didn’t think about it like that, but he’s right. I attacked him. I kissed him without his permission. Sure, he didn’t push me away, but I still initiated it without asking him.
“I’m sorry I put you in that situation and used you the way I did. I never got to thank you for helping me.”
Ethan looks at me like I’m a puzzle that needs to be solved.
“You never have to thank me for kissing you.”
My eyes dart to his mouth and I once again imagine us kissing, right here in this hot tub… Me on his lap…
“Have you ever done something like that before?” he asks. “Kissed a stranger?”
“You were my first.”
Ethan nods slowly. “Let’s go inside. It’s getting cold out here.” He stands and gets out of the hot tub. Once he’s out, he reaches down for my hand, which I give him without protest—making me realize how comfortable I’ve come to feel around Ethan in such a short amount of time.
As soon as my body is out of the water, my head goes fuzzy, causing me to become disoriented. My eyes close of their own accord as strong arms wrap around my waist to keep me from falling. My eyes flutter open, and Ethan peers down at me with concern.
“What the fuck was that?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.” I swallow thickly. “I just felt dizzy all of sudden.” I move out of his touch and walk away, wanting to end this conversation before it begins.
“Jesus Christ. You almost fainted,” he says, following me toward the chair where my towel is.
“It’s fine. I’m sure it’ll pass.”
“Fuck that.” Ethan scoops me in his arms bridal style and heads toward the house. He walks us up the stairs and into my room. After placing me on the edge of the bed, he leaves me to go into the bathroom. I hear the shower turn on, and a second later, he’s back.
“Go take a shower. The sun and whiskey probably got to you. If you need anything, let me know.”
I thank him, and once he’s left my room, I undress out of my bathing suit and step into the shower. The moment the warm water hits my body, my tense muscles loosen. Lifting my face up to the spray, I allow the water to calm my nerves. My mind drifts to the last few days. It feels as though everything has changed—I’ve changed. My kiss with Ethan. My brother dying. My mom keeping secrets. Being taken by Logan.
My entire life, I was on one path and now it’s as if that path is no longer an option. Even if Ethan stopped Logan and let me go right this second, I can’t go back to the person I was before. I can’t go back to living my life the way I was. I want more. I want to actually live my life for me. Not for God, or for my parents, but for me. I want to make my own rules and my own choices. Stephen’s death reminded me how short life is, and I don’t want to waste another day, another minute of my life.
When I step out of the shower, I wrap the huge, white cotton towel around my body and walk back into the bedroom. My luggage is on the bed. Ethan must’ve gone to my house to get my stuff. I try to think if I left anything out that could be mortifying if he saw, but my thoughts are answered when I open the luggage and see every single pair of underwear I own, including that sheer white lacy bra with a matching thong set that Blaire made me buy at Victoria’s Secret.
My neck warms when I realize he packed all this, which means he saw all this. But you know what? I’m not going to let him know it affected me. This is the new me and I’m done being shy and self-conscious. I grab my green sundress and white bra and panty set, and throw them on.
I’m ready for this. I’m ready for whatever is going to be thrown at me.
When I walk into the kitchen, I find Ethan sitting at the bar with a beer in one hand and his cell phone in the other. He’s no longer in his swim trunks, but instead in a pair of gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt. His hair is damp, telling me he must’ve quickly rinsed off.