A few minutes later, the Mercedes turned into a large ground-level parking garage. Ethan didn’t even have to stop at the gate inside because the guard standing there buzzed him through immediately.
Instead of heading to a parking spot like I assumed we would, he pulled around to a wide lit-up entrance that most other places had outside, though this one was fully covered and secure. Leaving the car running, Ethan got out, and a man—a valet—appeared instantly.
“Mr. Abbott, how are you this evening, sir?” The valet’s voice floated into the open doorway and the backseat.
“Very well, and you, Jacob?”
“Got an A on my ethics exam!” Jacob exclaimed. His tone was comfortable, as if he’d had a thousand conversations with Ethan like this in the past.
“Well done! I knew you could do it. Hard work pays off. Pretty soon, you’ll be coming after my job,” Ethan replied happily.
Their easy comradery suddenly made me feel sour, my lip curling with distaste.
“I’ll take good care of her for you,” Jacob was saying, but Ethan held him off.
Leaning back inside, he lifted the front seat, peering in to where I still sat.
“Don’t mind me,” I said. “Finish congratulating him.”
Ethan looked like he’d swallowed a canary, and then a smile stretched over his features. “Is someone jealous?”
I gasped. “No!”
His warm chuckle called me a liar and also made me want to lean in…
What the hell is wrong with me?
I was going delirious from hunger.
“C’mon, P—”
I glared.
“Fletch.” He corrected. “Let’s go.”
Ignoring the hand he offered, I snatched my violin case and climbed out, moving aside so Ethan could fix the seat.
The valet’s eyes went wide. “Oh, I didn’t know anyone was with you.”
I tugged the suit jacket around me a little tighter. “Hi,” I said because I didn’t know what else to say.
“Jacob, this is Fletcher. Fletcher, Jacob.” Ethan made the introductions like we would be seeing each other more than just this once.
Jacob was a polished-looking young guy with trimmed dark hair, straight white teeth, and a very tidy uniform.
“Nice to meet you,” Jacob said, then moved toward the car. “Thanks again for all your encouragement!” he called to Ethan.
“You did all the hard work,” he replied, turning away.
Behind us, the Mercedes was driven off, and the men standing at the doors opened them wide for us to step through.
“Good evening, Mr. Abbott.”
“Evening, gentlemen,” he greeted in reply.
I headed toward the bank of elevators inside the totally swanky lobby, but Ethan made a sound, palming the small of my back and guiding me away.
“This one is mine,” he said, leading me to an elevator sitting alone, its gold doors polished and reflecting our images as we approached.
We were completely mismatched, with Ethan being tall and sophisticated with model-esque looks and style and a presence that commanded attention.
I, on the other hand, was an entire head shorter than him, slim and small beside him, and wearing hand-me-down clothes that didn’t fit.
“I think I’ll just go to Ivory’s,” I said, turning away from our reflections to flee.
He caught the back of the jacket, and when he tugged, it went, but I didn’t go with it. A low curse behind me made my lips twitch with glee, but then his very wide hand clamped around the back of my neck, stopping the progress I’d made to the door.
“Your dinner will get cold,” he said, towing me into the elevator.
I pouted for like two seconds, but really, who had time for that? Curiosity got the better of me, so I asked, “Is this your elevator?”
Ethan made a sound of acknowledgment. “Mm-hmm.”
“Like yours and no one else’s?”
He glanced at me. “Are you surprised? Ivory has one that goes to her floor too.”
Averting my gaze, I just shrugged, glancing down at my shoes as the private car went up and up.
Ivory is different. This feels different.
“Is that why you tried to run off? Are you intimidated?”
Angry, I straightened off the wall, looking him right in the eyes. “You don’t intimidate me.”
His lips twitched, blue eyes sparkling a bit. Why did I notice that? “That’s good. I don’t want to.”
I swallowed.
As he cocked his head to the side, the edge of the large standing collar on his coat grazed his jaw. “So why did you run off?”
“I don’t belong here,” I muttered, turning my stare back to the floor.
“I think you might.” He spoke softly.
Before I could think or do anything, the doors dinged open, revealing the biggest bouquet of flowers I’d literally ever seen in my life perched on a table in the center of the foyer.
“Whoa,” I whispered, rushing forward, tripping over the space where the elevator met the floor.
Ethan grabbed my arm to steady me, clucking his tongue. “Who taught you how to walk?”
Tugging my arm free, I frowned. Usually, I wouldn’t think twice over a comment like that, but after the day I’d had—after seeing her—it kind of stung. “I taught myself.”
There was the briefest pause. Then the air around us suddenly shifted as if he read my deepest feelings without any trouble at all. Stepping close, he lifted his hand but held it at bay, silently asking if he could touch me, giving me a choice.
Sucking my lower lip into my mouth, I debated a minute but then nodded once. I had no idea what his intentions were, but this feeling in the air was swirling around and making me drunk.
His hand was so big it engulfed the back of my head, palming me so easily that it made my heart skip a beat. Despite the size and strength his hand possessed, he was gentle when he stroked my hair, the action so soothing my body swayed toward the touch.
“You did well. You taught yourself well.” He praised quietly.
Emotions rolled over me like an avalanche in a snowstorm, pummeling and collapsing me, the weight of it all almost too much to bear. My chest turned so tight I found it hard to breathe, so I leaned even more into his touch as if I knew he would fix it all.
Ethan praised me back at the police station, and it pierced my emotions then too.
But this. This is all-consuming.
Fear slammed into me, making me jolt back. His hand was still on the back of my head, cupping it almost protectively in case I jerked too far.
When I was steady, he pulled back, the tingles racing over my scalp in his wake.
Trying to shake off whatever was happening, I turned back to the display. “There must be a thousand flowers in here!” I pretended not to notice how my voice was an octave too high.
Ethan’s low laugh made me feel like I’d swallowed a spoonful of honey, coating every part of me as it slid down.
“I didn’t count,” he said, going along with the conversation with no trouble at all.
“I will.” I offered. Maybe counting to a thousand would settle all the nerves racing inside me.
“Later,” he said, going to large black double doors with ornate gold hardware. Something beeped after he swiped a card, and the locks made an unlatching sound. “Come on.”
Giving one last look to the flowers, I went ahead of him into the apartment.
I knew it would be fancy. I knew it would be big.
Beyond that, I guess I really didn’t know what to expect.
But judging from my awed moment of silence, it wasn’t this.
The floors were black and white marble tiles laid out in an alternating diamond pattern. A huge ornate dark wood table sat against the wall, a large mirror hanging over it, and various decorations were perched on the glossy wooden top.
Across from that was a staircase that wound in a wide spiral to another level. The stairs were carpeted with thick tan ca
rpet, and the railing was black metal. Sitting in the curvature of the stairs was another table and, on it, another huge arrangement, but this was just greenery without flowers. Beside it was a carved bust, the head of some guy.
“Is that your dad?” I asked.
Ethan’s eyes widened, and then he threw back his head and laughed. It was a deep, pure sound that went on a lot longer than it should have.
I was being serious.
But it was okay. I kind of liked the way he sounded.
“It’s Julius Caesar,” Ethan said, his laugh quieting.
Well, okay. “Do you know him?”
“Julius Caesar was a Roman general who was assassinated a long time ago.”
“Oh.” Why does he have some random old dude’s head in his apartment?
“Do you like it?” Ethan asked almost as though he could hear my thoughts.
I shrugged.
“It’s okay if you don’t.” He encouraged.
“It’s kinda weird.” I admitted, glancing again at the head.
“So if you were to put a statue there, what would you choose?”
“Me?” I asked, surprised.
He nodded.
“I’d get one of Spider-Man.”
“Spider-Man,” Ethan echoed.
“At least he has cool powers,” I said, pretending to shoot webs from my wrists. “All this guy did was get himself killed.”
Ethan laughed. “Well, he did a little more than that.”
“What’s up there?” I asked, pointing to the stairs.
“The bedrooms,” Ethan replied, starting past me to go farther into the apartment.
I set my case near the stairs and followed along, eyes going straight ahead to an entire wall of glass that provided a full view of the city. Since it was dark, the buildings were all lit up, twinkling like a million stars.
Passing the thick carpets and cream and black furniture, I went right to the glass, staring down at the city. “A prince looking down on his kingdom,” I whispered.
“What?”
I jumped, not realizing Ethan was standing so close. “Oh, ah, nothing.”
“You should shower before you eat.”
My eyes went wide. “Shower!”
“Yes, you were just in that filthy jail cell.”
“Oh, no, I—”
Grasping my wrist, Ethan tugged me along behind him, tossing the jacket I’d worn the whole way here on a wide, modern sofa. Towing me toward the back of the apartment, he pushed open a door, leading me into a large, pristine bathroom.
The shower was probably four times the size of ours at home, and it was enclosed in glass.
“I really don’t—”
“Towels are there.” Ethan pointed to a huge stack of fluffy white towels. “Soap and everything else is there.” He pointed again.
“But my food will be cold.” I tried.
“I’ll make sure it stays warm.”
“What’s the point in showering if I’m going to put on the same dirty clothes?”
“I’ll get you something clean of course. Wait there.”
Did this guy ever lose an argument?
While I waited, I kicked off my sneakers and leaned against the marble counter. This place was huge, and I’d only seen part of it. Did he live here all by himself?
Does he have a girlfriend?
My back went stiff, and a funny, unpleasant feeling wormed around inside me.
“This stuff will probably be kind of big, but it’s the best—” Ethan’s words cut off when he looked at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Do you have a girlfriend?” I asked, leaning around him to look like she might be standing in the doorway watching us.
“Would you be upset if I did?”
Gasping, I yanked back into position, suddenly wanting to be hidden by his frame. “She won’t like someone like me here.” I freaked, bending to pick up the shoes, preparing to run.
Ethan sighed, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
I deflated in relief. “Oh. That’s good.”
The disgusting feeling inside me was just starting to go away when he said, “Aren’t you going to ask if I have a boyfriend?”
My eyes shot up to his. “You like guys?”
I hadn’t realized I’d whispered until he bent at the waist, meeting my eyes, and matched my tone. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“No,” I practically yelled. “I don’t care.”
Pulling back, his eyes scanned my face. “What about you? Do you have a girlfriend?”
I laughed. “Yeah, right.”
“A boyfriend, then?”
My eyes widened. “You think I like guys?”
His head cocked to the side. “Do you?”
I thought about the question, really thought. I mean, sure, I’d thought about this stuff before, but it seemed like I really wanted to be sure before I answered, like what I said was somehow important.
I must have been silent too long because Ethan placed the stack of clothes on the vanity and turned away. “Come out when you’re done. Then we’ll eat.”
“I like everyone!” I blurted.
Ethan stopped walking but didn’t turn around, so I was left standing there staring at the back of his blond head, which was oddly was just as handsome as his face.
“Everyone?” he echoed.
I nodded before realizing he couldn’t see. “I-I’ve never had a relationship before,” I told him honestly. “I’m not really datable.”
Ethan turned, a scowl on his face. “Who told you that?” he demanded as though whoever it was would pay.
It made me smile. “Ah…” I laughed a little. “No one. I just—that’s just what I think.”
He crossed his arms, frowning. “That’s not true.”
Clearing my throat, I glanced off to the side. “I’ve never really thought about it in terms of boy and girl. To me, it’s just love.” Saying all this out loud made me so shy, and I felt heat surging to my cheeks.
“Go on.” Ethan urged, his voice quiet and almost pleading.
“It’s more about meeting someone that makes you feel something. Someone that makes you feel special and that you want to be with all the time. Someone who might… worry about you, who might ask you if you’re hungry or cold. Someone who wants to see you even if you can’t give them anything.”
“Fletcher.”
Why did his voice sound like that? So raw and hoarse? Why did it make me want to run to him?
Holding back and more embarrassed than ever, I rushed to finish the words I found I really wanted to say. “To me, it wouldn’t matter if it was a girl or a boy if they made me feel that way because love isn’t specific and a heart goes by feelings… not by gender.”
Suddenly, I was crushed against a wide, warm chest, and his Christmas-y scent engulfed me. I hadn’t remembered giving in to the urge to run to him, but I must have because here I was wrapped up in his arms.
Safe.
I wasn’t that small, but against him, I was. His wide, muscular frame nearly devoured mine, but he was gentle, so gentle.
“I’m really glad to hear you say that.” The soft words floated over my head. I felt his breath stir my hair.
He held me a moment longer, and my eyes started to flutter closed.
Pulling back, he made a gruff sound. “Get showered. Your food really will get cold.”
It wasn’t until after he left the bathroom that I realized I was still standing in the exact same place. It wasn’t me who had run to Ethan…
Ethan was the one who ran to me.
9
Ethan
* * *
I’d met him in the hospital. He charmed me.
I’d stumbled upon him in the forest. He enchanted me.
Finding him in jail enraged me.
And now?
Hearing him talk about love captured me.
All my life, I lived by everyone else’s rules. I played my role, did my d
uty.
I hid a part of who I was from everyone… sometimes even from myself. I had things most people would kill for, yet the boy in my guest shower, a boy who literally had to steal to eat, felt something I never did.
Acceptance of who he was.
His viewpoint on love was so pure and innocent, so sweet it made me ache. He had no idea how every word he’d spoken broke me down.
I wanted him.
I wanted the love he spoke of to be mine.
I was well aware that this couldn’t be bought. It couldn’t be bartered or borrowed.
It had to be earned. It had to be deserved.
Because of that, I wanted it even more.
All my life, my name and money made me worthy. But with Fletch, those things would work against me. To be worthy of him, I had to be a good man. A good lover and a friend.
I’d never wanted to be worthy of anything as much as I did now.
Feeling shaken, I moved about my walk-in closet, tossing the clothes I’d worn all day in the bin for cleaning. I wanted to shower, but I didn’t want to take too long. I wanted to be there when he came out of the bathroom. I didn’t want to miss a single second with him.
I smiled at my own thoughts. If Fletcher knew all this was in my head, he’d run so fast I’d probably have skid marks on the floor.
“Spider-Man,” I muttered, laughing. “He’d put up a statue of Spider-Man.”
So cute.
Opting to just shower later, I pulled on a black pair of Givenchy lounge pants and a flocked logo white T-shirt.
I was leaning against the wall when the bathroom door pulled in just enough for his head to peek out. When he saw me, his eyes bulged, and I wanted to kiss him.
The sudden urge had me straightening from the wall, but I held off, something I really never did. If I wanted something, I grabbed it. I took it. I made it mine.
Not this time. Not with Fletch.
The way I wanted him was far different from any other want I’d known. And so stark desire hung inside me, anticipation nearly crackling in the air.
“What are you hiding in there for?” I asked, utterly charmed by him even as tension coiled beneath my skin.
“These pants are too big.”
“Let me see.”
“No.”
“Come here, puppy,” I commanded, my voice just a little sterner than before.
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