Ruined (Ethan Frost 1)

“Because! This internship means a lot to me. I busted my butt to get it, turned down other internships at other places just for the chance to work here. There’s no way I’m going to compromise everything I worked for just to go on a date with you. ”

“Just to go on a date with me, huh?” He sounds more amused than offended, but still I feel the need to clarify.

“You know what I mean! I—”

“It’s okay, Chloe. But I want you to know that no matter what happens with us—or doesn’t happen—your internship is secure. You earned that spot and no one is going to take it away from you for dating me, or for not dating me. The two things have nothing to do with each other. ”

And my friends all think I’m naive? I don’t know how Ethan can stand there and tell me so convincingly that my dating him will have no impact on my internship. Maybe he really believes it, maybe he’s just trying to placate me, but the truth is, it’s a completely absurd assumption. Already people are looking at me differently, and I’m pretty sure in the fifteen minutes we’ve been in here, gossip has begun to run rampant. After all, Ethan told me himself that he isn’t in the habit of closeting himself in the company’s security headquarters with all that many female employees.

“Maybe not, but I can’t take that risk. I’m sorry, Ethan. ”

He studies me for a moment, as if assessing the strength of my conviction. But then the calculation slips out of his eyes as quickly as it entered. “Well, at least I got you to call me Ethan instead of Mr. Frost like in that ridiculous letter,” he tells me with a grin. “That’s something, I suppose. ”

I blanch as I realize I’ve done just that when I’ve been working so hard to keep things professional between us. When did I start thinking of him as Ethan? And how could I be so stupid as to call him by his first name? The last thing I need is to encourage him—or to slip up and refer to him as Ethan when I’m with someone from the company.

My chagrin must show on my face, because he takes a step back. “I’m just messing with you, Chloe. I do know how to take no for an answer. ” He lifts the ice pack away from my hip. “How’s that bruise feeling?”

The abrupt change in subject throws me off balance, as does his switch from teasingly intimate to remotely impersonal. His smile is gone, as are the warm little crinkles by his eyes. In their place is the poker face of a top executive, one who knows how to keep his thoughts well hidden.

I feel an immediate sense of loss. Which is stupid—he’s giving me exactly what I want. Treating me like any other employee. And yet as he steps away from me, I immediately miss his heat. His closeness. His concern.

“It’s fine. I told you before. It’s just a little bruise. ”

“Still, it doesn’t hurt to be careful. ” He extends the ice pack to me. “Ice it again in fifteen minutes. It will keep the bruising from getting too bad. ”

“I don’t need—”

“Chloe. ” It’s the firmest I’ve heard his voice in two days, and it snaps me to attention. Speaks to something deep inside me that I still don’t understand. “Can you do what I ask without arguing? Just this once. Please? I promise not to let it go to my head. ”

I find myself nodding and taking the ice pack. I don’t know why it’s so important to him, but it won’t hurt—and will probably help—me to do what he wants. “I have to go now. ”

He glances at the Tag Heuer watch on his wrist. “What time was your meeting?”

“Eight-fifteen. ”

“You’re late. ”

“Like I don’t know that?” Just that easily I’m annoyed again. He says it so brusquely, like my extended tardiness is my fault instead of his. “You’re the one who insisted I put ice on the stupid bruise. ”

“It’s not stupid. You need to take care of yourself. ”

“I do take care of myself. I’ve managed to get myself to twenty in one piece, after all. ”

“Twenty. ” He draws the word out like he’s contemplating it…or savoring it. Savoring me. “You sound like that’s a huge accomplishment. ”

I think automatically of Brandon, of my parents. “It’s a bigger accomplishment than you might think. ”

The words pop out before I know I’m going to say them. Which is a mistake. I regret them as soon as they’ve left my mouth, and I glance up at Ethan, struggle to say something funny to defuse their meaning.

But it’s too late. His lips are tight, his shoulders tense, and his eyes have gone dark and stormy again. For a second it looks like he’s going to push for more information, and in my head I start scrambling for an explanation. For something, anything, I can tell him other than the truth.

But in the end, it isn’t necessary. Though I can see the questions in his eyes, on his lips, he chooses to back off. At least for now.

“Come on. I’ll walk you down to Building Three. ”

“You don’t need to do that. ”

“Sure I do. You’re twenty minutes late to your meeting. Definitely not a great sign on your second day on the job. ”