“Okay.” I put my fork down. This seems important.
Ethan looks at Stella and she takes something out of her pocket. A diamond ring.
I give her a puzzled look. “You’re not proposing to me, are you?”
Ethan frowns. “Very funny.”
Stella laughs. “No, silly. Ethan proposed to me and I accepted.”
She slips her ring on.
“We’re getting married.”
“We are,” Ethan confirms.
My eyes grow wide. “Wow.”
I know they’re in love and they’re having a baby, but to think they’re serious enough about each other to get married? I mean, marriage is supposed to be a lifelong commitment. No other men or women. No secrets. No lies. No giving up even if you get tired. No turning back.
Is that something I’m capable of?
Frankly, I don’t know.
“Congratulations,” I tell my brother and his fiancée. “And cheers!”
I raise my cup of coffee.
Stella sends me a smile. “Thank you.”
I say nothing more. I don’t know what else to say. I’m happy for them, of course, but I also can’t help but worry whether Ethan is making the right decision. Then again, maybe it’s just me I’m worried about. Now that Ethan is settling down, I’m starting to wonder if I should, too, or if I should at least be more serious about women, maybe start a relationship with one—Violet, to be precise.
Didn’t I say something to Ryker about waking up next to her and doing things with her? Didn’t I just do that?
But the question is: Can I keep doing it? Because that’s what a relationship is about—doing things over and over and still being happy.
Can I do that? Am I ready?
~
I’m still asking myself that question as I stand in front of the door to Violet’s apartment. I’m not even sure I want to go in. If I do, won’t that mean I want to keep things going with her? Then again, if I don’t, I have a feeling everything will end, and while I’m not sure I’m ready to have a serious relationship with Violet, I know for sure I’m not ready to stop having sex with her and just having fun with her.
So I ring the doorbell. I hear her come rushing to the door after the first ring. Moments later, the door opens. Violet appears in a purple tank top, no bra, and gray yoga pants. Her hair is still damp from her bath. I can smell her shampoo.
“Hey,” I greet her with a smile.
She looks at me from head to toe and gives me a puzzled look.
“You went out?”
I glance down at my outfit. I guess she would think that since I’m wearing a flannel shirt over a plain white tee and dark jeans.
“Yeah,” I answer. “I went to see Ethan.”
“Oh.” Her furrowed eyebrows straighten out. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Everything’s fine. He just… wanted to discuss some things that he didn’t have a chance to last Friday.”
Violet nods. “I see.”
Still, she looks upset. And it seems like she doesn’t want to let me inside her apartment. Is it because I left without telling her? But she was asleep. It’s not like I waited for her to sleep and then left, even though that was what I was planning.
“Is something wrong?” I decide to ask her outright.
“No,” she answers, but she doesn’t sound convincing.
I sniff something. “Are those… pancakes?”
“Yeah.” Violet glances over her shoulder as she rubs her arm. “I made some for breakfast.”
“I see.”
She purses her lips for a moment then meets my gaze as she speaks. “There are still a few left over if you want them.”
I feel a sense of relief. Violet may be upset with me for leaving, but at least she isn’t shutting the door. And now, she’s inviting me in.
I smile. “You know I love pancakes.”
“Do I?”
She opens the door. I step inside and take a moment to look around since I didn’t get a chance to last night. My gaze falls on the marble counter and I smile.
Violet heads behind that counter but I grab her wrist.
“Actually, I’m still full. Ethan made me eat a lot.”
“Oh.” I hear the tinge of disappointment in her voice.
“But I can eat some later,” I tell her.
Her eyebrows furrow. “You’re staying? For the day?”
I shrug. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No, but…”
She falls silent as she tugs her hand away. I can see the anxiety on her face as she clutches the front of her top. She draws a deep breath.
“What is this, Asher?”
I know what she’s asking. It’s the same thing I’ve been asking myself all morning. And which I still haven’t found an answer to.
“What are we doing?” she asks.
I take her hand and brush my lips against her palm. She draws a breath.
“Sex,” I answer. “If you want to.”
She says nothing.
“Sex that I’m not doing with anyone else,” I elaborate.
“So it’s just sex?”
“Sex and the Navy Pier and pancakes,” I tell her.