Addicted (Ethan Frost 2)

“Jesus, Chloe, how do you even exist?”

I go for humor, but it falls flat. “Just unlucky, I guess.”

“No.” He reaches for me then, and this time I don’t have the strength to push him away, not even when he lowers his head and rests his forehead against my own. “There’s nothing unlucky about you.”

I’m the one who laughs then, a harsh sound that comes from deep inside me. That’s much more of a sob than it is an expression of amusement.

“Let me take you home,” he whispers, his breath hot against my cheek. “I’ll run you a bath, cook you dinner. Then we can talk—”

“I already told you.” From somewhere I find the strength to push him away. “We don’t have anything to talk about.”

“We have everything to talk about.” His fingers tighten on my arms, not enough to cause pain but definitely enough for me to sense his desperation. The same desperation that I spent most of yesterday trying to come to terms with myself.

“No. We really don’t.” From somewhere I find the strength to step back, to shake him off. “It’s never going to work between us. It can’t. We’re over before we ever really had a chance to begin.”

“Don’t say that, Chloe. It isn’t true. I won’t let it be true.”

“Even your formidable will can’t change what is, Ethan. No matter how much you want to.”

“That’s bullshit!” The words explode from him, loud and harsh and vicious in their intensity.

“It isn’t.”

“It is!” He grabs me again, pulls me close, and though there’s a part of me that wants nothing more than to melt against him, I can’t. Because he feels different now that I know. We feel different and I’m smart enough to figure out that I’m never going to get past that.

“I know that you still love me. I can see it in your face. I can hear it in the way your breathing stutters when I touch you.” He brings a hand between us, rests it on my chest. “I can feel it in the way your heart is beating way too fast, even now. I won’t let you walk away from that.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“Damn it, Chloe, ple

ase. I love you.” He presses hot kisses to my forehead, my eyes, my jaw. “I love you so much. I’ll fix this. I swear, I’ll fix it. Just give me a chance. I’ll find a way—”

“There is no way to fix this, Ethan!” I bring my hands up and shove at his chest, hard. This time, he stumbles back, though I know it’s more from the emotional impact of the blow than it is from the blow itself. “There is no way to rewrite the past.

“I told you when we met that I was broken. I told you that you weren’t going to be able to fix me.”

“You’re not broken, baby. You’re not.” There are tears in his eyes, tears in his too-thick voice, and it hurts. Oh God, it hurts so badly to see him like this. To know that I’ve caused it, that I’ve reduced this strong, beautiful man to this when all he’s ever been is kind to me. It’s a blade deep inside me, an open, aching wound that can’t close because the knife keeps twisting, twisting, twisting.

“I am.”

“You’re not. Maybe you were, but you aren’t anymore. I wish you could see yourself the way that I see you. You’re strong, baby, so strong that some days it’s all I can do to believe that you’re mine. That I’m the one who gets to touch and kiss and hold you.”

He shakes his head, the look on his face saying that even now he can’t believe his luck. I know the look, because I wore the same one every day we were together when I thought about the fact that this as-gorgeous-on-the-inside-as-he-is-on-the-outside man was really mine.

“How you could have gone through everything you have and come out the other side this beautiful, brilliant woman …” He shakes his head. “It overwhelms me. You’re so smart and so talented and so sure of what you want, sure of how you’re going to get it. Don’t you see, sweetheart? That’s about as unbroken as you can get.”

“I’m not—”

“Yes! You are. I wish you could see yourself the way that I see you. Wish that you could understand. I’m in awe of you, Chloe. You’ve been to hell and back and you’re still here, still fighting to make a life for yourself. Still fighting to make the world a better place. None of that has anything to do with me. That’s all you, baby. It’s you, not me. You’ve healed yourself. Don’t let my bastard of a brother change that. Don’t let him ruin what you’ve built. Don’t let him ruin us.”

Now I’m the one crying. Again. I swipe at my cheeks, trying in vain to stem the flood of tears.

“Fuck.” Ethan breathes the word out and this time when he pulls me into his arms, I don’t fight him. I can’t, not when I crave his touch like a junkie craves a fix. I’m addicted to him, to his strength and his kindness, to the way he holds me and the way he makes my body burn with just a touch.

Except tonight. Tonight I’m cold. Cold to the bone. Cold to the soul.

It only makes me crave him more.