by Emma Hart
“And now you’re extremely frustrating because you’re standing here in your underwear, and you may as well be shirtless because that shirt is thinner than my grandpa’s hair.”
I clamped my arm over my boobs. “I didn’t know you were here or I’d put on a bra.”
“The coconut panties add a real something special to it.”
“I don’t see the problem here.”
“That’s because I’m hiding it behind this counter,” he ground out, jaw tight.
I paused, my gaze running over him until it hit his lower stomach. It was pressed right against the countertop on the island, and my lips slowly formed an ‘o’ shape.
“Oh.” It came out all squeaky. “I see. I don’t see, but I see.” I cleared my throat, blushing. “I get it.”
He gave me a tight smile. “Now, I don’t know how we handle this. Who leaves first?”
“Um. I’ll close my eyes, and you go.”
“I think I’ll close my eyes, and you go.”
“If this is part of your passive-aggressive shit, it’s not funny.”
“I’m not laughing,” he said, deadly serious. “Seriously. Go.” He closed his eyes and used his hand to cover them.
I had no choice.
It was on me.
And, apparently, Angelica was right.
How about that?
I ran to my room and pushed the door shut so hard it rattled on its hinges. My heart had reverted back to its crazy thud-thud-thud against my ribs, and I was inexplicably breathless.
Not even I was such a bad runner that I should be out of breath from that quick escape.
I dropped on the edge of my bed. I’d left my damn coffee out in the kitchen, so I’d have to get dressed to retrieve it.
I grabbed a bra, shirt, and leggings from my dresser and moved to the underwear drawer. After getting a pair of panties that were not covered in any kind of fruit, I turned my attention to my socks.
The drawer was a hot mess, as always. I rifled through the socks looking for a matching pair, even going so far as to take some out and lay them on top of the dresser just in case.
It was useless.
There were no pairs.
Only a drawer full of odd socks.
How was it even remotely possible that one of every single pair of socks had just upped and—
Son of a bitch.
I threw the socks in my hand into the drawer and turned on my heels. “Ethan!” I shouted, yanking my door open. “Ethan! Where the fuck are my socks?” I stormed back into the kitchen where I’d left him, but he wasn’t there.
He had to be back in his room, but I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.
“Ethan!” I pummeled my fist against his door. “Open this damn door before I break it down!”
“I’m naked!”
“I don’t care! Open this door so I can choke you until you talk!”
The door swung open, and he leaned against it, still in nothing but his boxers, and still with a relatively clear bulge in them.
Ahem.
“If you choke me, I can’t answer a thing.” His lips curved into an infuriating smirk. “What’s this about your socks?”
“My socks.” I put my hands on my hips. “Half of my socks are missing.”
“Are they in the laundry basket?”
“I mean one half of each pair, smartass. I have an entire drawer full of odd socks. Where are they?”
“Oh, that.” He nodded slowly. “God, that’s gotta be annoying.”
“Ethan!” I threw my hands out. “I agreed not to change the Netflix password again. Give me my socks!”
He took a step back and pointed at the hedgehog cage. “I don’t have all of them right now, but Mr. Prickles is enjoying sleeping in a few. I’m not sure you’re going to get those back.”
My jaw dropped. I shoved past him into the room and toward the cage on top of his dresser.
Yep. Sure as shit, there they were. Three of my socks being used as a bed for a spiky pig.
“Great.” I took a step back. “Just great. I’m going to kill you.”
“You already are,” he said dryly. “Because you still aren’t wearing a bra.”
I spun on the balls of my feet. “Oh, does that bug you? Me not wearing a bra?”
He stared at me.
I grabbed my boobs and pushed them up and together. “This kills you?”
He worked his jaw, his nostrils flaring.
“Good. Because if you think it was bad before, it’s now all-out roommate warfare, Ethan. And this shirt just became my new favorite shirt, so I hope you get your little friend under control before it gets too awkward!” I dropped my boobs and stormed out of his room with what I hoped was a strut with a dramatic flair but was probably just an awkward hobble with a hint of annoyance.
“Ava!”
“What?” I demanded, spinning around to face him.
He stalked up to me, wasting no time at all. His hands were rough as he grabbed me and pulled me against him, his lips slamming down on mine.
What was happening?
He softened after a second, but only slightly. My body reacted before my mind did, and through the spinning in my brain, I was vaguely aware of the fact that my braless boobs were pressed against his naked chest with only a very thin layer of cotton.
There was also the issue of his hand wrapped around the back of my neck.
Oh, and his tongue moving against mine.
He was kissing me.
Ethan was kissing me.
I was kissing him.
Kissing Ethan.
And neither of us were stopping it.
But oh, Jesus, it was something else. His grip on me was unwavering, and the ferocity he kissed me with duplicated itself in shivers that tingled across my skin, leaving all the hairs on my arms standing on end.
It was the most stomach-fluttering, heart-pounding, desire-churning kiss I’d ever had in my life.
And it was with Ethan.
The best kiss of my life would go down in history as being with him. This would be the benchmark for which all other kisses would be held against.
That was it, then. I was already ruined for all other men. Wonderful.
Ethan flexed his fingers against the back of my neck, slowly pulling away from the kiss. He lingered for a moment, his lips hovering barely a breath away from mine.
“Um,” I breathed, needing to break the silence.
He pulled back just enough to meet my gaze. “For the love of fucking God, put a bra on, Ava.”
Then, with those words, he released me.
And headed straight for the bathroom. He pulled the door shut behind him, and the lock clicked. Less than a minute later, I was still standing in the hall, almost paralyzed.
I couldn’t move. How was I supposed to move now?
The sound of the shower being turned on shook me out of whatever post-kiss haze I was in. I touched my fingers to my lips, my eyes widening, and jerked to life.
Ethan had just kissed me.
And now he was in the shower with a hard-on that’d just been pressed up against my stomach.
Oh, Jesus.
What the fuck was going on?
***
“Kissed you?” Reagan leaned across the table, her eyebrows shooting up.
“Kissed you?” Halley echoed, doing the same. “What? Why? How?”
“All excellent questions.” I fiddled with the rim of my wine glass. I wasn’t in the habit of drinking before work, but I was hungry and I was stressed, and I needed something to take the edge off my constant thinking.
“What happened?” Reagan asked, looking a little too much like the old ladies at the church who thrived on gossip.
I ran through the whole story, starting with the remote thing last night. It was the only way to get the full context, but even I knew the answer as to why he’d kissed me before I’d finished telling the story.
“It was the boob-grab,” Halley said immediate
ly.
Reagan nodded. “You brought this on yourself.”
Groaning, I dropped my forehead to the table. “I can’t do this, guys. I can’t. It’s too much. This is a disaster.”
“Yep,” she said brightly. “A complete and utter shitshow, and it’s all your fault.”
I fake-sobbed into my arms.
Halley snorted. “It’s simple. Just end the roomie war and be done with it. You’re only interacting the way you are because you’re actively trying to piss the other person off.”
“And let him win?” I sat up so fast that my head spun. “No way! He’s not winning!”
“He’s not,” Reagan said, smirking. “I mean, the fact he had to pamper himself in the shower after tells you all you need to know.”
Pampered himself. That was an interesting way to put it. I’d never heard a guy jerking himself off be referred to like that before.
“Look, I don’t even know if that was definitely what he was doing. It’s not like I could see through the door, is it?” I pushed my hair behind my ear. “I just assumed because, well, it was the obvious thing to do.”
Halley propped her chin up on her hand. “It fits. What are you going to do now?”
“What did you do after Preston kissed you?”
“I’m pretty sure I ran away, actually.”
Reagan smirked. “Ethan already did that.”
I sighed. This was going nowhere fast. “We have to talk about it. We live together. He’s my brother’s best friend. We have to set boundaries and stuff like that.”
“You know what’s a good boundary? A bra.”
“Shut up.”
“Ladies.” Halley held up her hands and turned to me. “You have to talk. You’re right. But I also think you owe it to yourself to not brush it under the carpet like it never happened. Clearly, he feels something for you, even if it’s just attraction.”
“She’s right.” Reagan grimaced. “I hate it when she’s right.”
I did, too.
“You both need to get to the bottom of your actual feelings about one another. You clearly don’t hate each other, at least not the way you claim to, so deal with it.”
“God, when you make sense, I know the apocalypse is coming,” I muttered to Reagan. “All right. Fine. Even if nothing happens, at least we can draw a line under it and move on.”
I slid my phone over in front of me and picked it up, ready to text Ethan. I had a new message flashing on the screen, and when I looked at it, it was from him.
“Oh. He texted already.”
“What does it say?” Halley craned her neck.
I opened it. “It says we need to talk.”
Reagan jerked her head, looking around Lucky’s.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Seeing if he’s here,” she replied. “Because that’s weird, dude.”
“Hardly,” Halley drawled, playing with her straw. “He’s obviously thinking about it. He’s older than us. He’s mature enough to know it has to be discussed.”
“Mature? The man stole one sock from every pair I own. That’s not mature.” I hit the reply box on my screen.
“No, but it’s brilliant. Like, that must be really fucking annoying,” Reagan mused. “And so random. Why would you do that to someone?”
“To passively-aggressively piss them off,” Halley said slowly. “Do you listen to a word anyone says?”
“Not when they come out of you.”
Halley elbowed her.
“It’s like putting cats in a bath,” I muttered, turning my attention to my phone.
ME: Guess so. I’m @ work til 2 but I’m off tomorrow.
ETHAN: I have to work. We can talk at lunch?
ME: That works. I can get food ready.
ETHAN: Do you think it’s a smart conversation to have in the apartment?
ME: Us having lunch in public would be weird. We’re not exactly best friends.
ETHAN: Good point. Ok. I’ll see you just after 12 tomorrow then.
ME: K. See you tomorrow.
“We’re going to talk on his lunch hour tomorrow,” I relayed to the girls.
“His lunch hour?” Reagan frowned. “What are you? Allergic to mornings?”
“Yes,” Halley muttered.
This was impossible. “Yes,” I said, echoing Halley’s answer. “But I’m here until two tonight, and he has to start work at eight. He’ll be gone before I’m awake, and since tomorrow is Friday, he’ll be here watching the game with the guys.”
“Crap. Yeah. It’s Friday tomorrow. Ugh. That means I have to put together the world’s biggest anniversary bouquet for some guy who forgot his wife’s birthday last week.” Reagan paused. “Well, he said he did, but I think he cheated on her.”
“How do you know that?”
“Roses.” She said it as if everyone should know that. “Nobody buys roses unless it’s Valentines, they’re proposing, or they screwed up real bad. This guy ordered three dozen long-stemmed red roses to be delivered to his wife’s work.”
Halley blew out a breath. “Yeah, he banged his secretary.”
You know, for someone who worked in a bar, I was not all that good at the whole reading people thing.
Drunk people? Could spot them a mile off. The girls who needed cutting off from tequila shots? Nailed it. Grandma who spikes her lemonades with gin from a hidden flask in her purse?
Well, that was Halley’s grandma, so maybe that one was pretty obvious.
Halley’s phone beeped, and she checked it. “Oh, God, she’s terrorizing the village again.”
There was only one person that could be about—her grandma. Had I summoned her?
“And she’s with Bethel. Fuck me.”
Reagan frowned. “They went to the cinema. I literally dropped them at the doors and watched them go in. What trouble could they have gotten into at the cinema?”
“That question has so many possible answers,” I replied, finishing my wine. My shift started in ten minutes. “Those two could get in trouble in a church. Honestly, I don’t know how they’re able to make it past the doors without sweating.”
“They flashed the concessions guy to get free popcorn.” Halley looked up. “Can’t we just let the police arrest them at this point? Does Noah have any favors he can call in?”
“This isn’t a mob movie, Halley.” Reagan snorted. “Did they really flash him?”
“Yeah.” Halley’s eyebrows drew together as she frowned. “Then they ran away and were last spotted near the liquor store.”
“The liquor store?” I asked. “What the hell are you still doing here? The last time they got drunk, they hung their underwear from telephone masts.”
“Yeah, still not sure how they got them up there,” she mused. “All right. Come on. Let’s go save the villagers before they start flashing their knees or something.”
Reagan snorted. “I’m not going. I saved her the last time. It’s Preston’s turn.”
Halley sighed, already dialing on her phone as she left. “I knew I shouldn’t have come back after college.”
I laughed, and so did Reagan. She’d hated not being in South Carolina and had complained about it the entire time she was studying for her degree. There wasn’t a chance in hell it was going to happen, so she could run that line all she liked, but no.
“So, you’re really gonna talk to Ethan, then?” Reagan asked.
“Talk to Ethan about what?” Leo appeared from behind me.
I jumped out of my skin. “How long have you been there?”
“Just walked in with a few guys from work. Why?” He took Halley’s recently vacated seat and motioned to some guys by the door. “What are you talking to him about?”
“Her socks,” Reagan said without missing a beat.
“Your socks?” Leo raised an eyebrow. “Why your socks?”
“He stole them. You know we’re fighting. I just—it’s a long story. I have to start my shift. Reagan can explain.” I got up. “Is
he coming in here tonight?”
Leo shook his head. “Said he’d see us tomorrow. You piss him off that much?”
“He knows I’m here until close. He’s probably going to mess up my Netflix some more,” I said dryly, getting up. “I have no idea what he’s doing, but as long as the hedgehog isn’t in my room, I don’t care.”
“You and that fucking hedgehog.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN – ETHAN
Guys Don’t Kiss And Tell
I waited in my car for a good two minutes before I was ready to get out.
There was no way I was ready for this conversation. I had absolutely no fucking idea what I was supposed to say to Ava. Having all this time between yesterday morning and now where we hadn’t seen each other at all should have given me some perspective.
Nope. All it’d given me was another morning hard-on, another too-long shower, and now the urge to move to Cuba so I didn’t accidentally give in to my dick and do it all again.
I didn’t know what to tell her. I had nothing to tell her, despite being the one who said we needed to talk.
We did.
Fuck, we needed to talk.
But it was so much easier to say that than to actually do the talking. She was my best friend’s little sister—how the fuck was I supposed to explain myself? How could I explain my actions?
I couldn’t tell her that I’d wanted to do that for years. That the desire to kiss her had only increased since I’d moved into the apartment. That we couldn’t tell anyone because Leo was going to kill me.
That I had no idea why I’d finally given in and kissed her.
She’d want answers. I knew that. Ava would demand to know why the hell I’d kissed her, and I couldn’t give her a reason.
I knew moving in with her was a bad idea. That was the problem with being a bit of a nomad—I never knew how long I’d be in one place. Luckily, being a mechanic meant my skills were always in demand, and I was able to move around cities.
I hadn’t signed a lease in Creek Falls like Leo. He planned to stay for a year and figure out his life, but I hadn’t wanted to commit to that.
I’d planned on staying for a few months until after the new year, then I’d make a choice. I was only stuck in this apartment for six months if Ava decided to leave, and she wasn’t going to do that.