Ethan Walker's Road To Wonderland (Road To Wonderland #3)

by L. J. Stock

  I wasn’t sure whether or not she was aware of where she was headed until the last minute, when I had to reach out and pull her toward me so she avoided impact. It was a warm April afternoon to begin with, but the subtle weight of her as I pulled her against me made it considerably more so. I thought she felt it, too, but the look of disgust on her face when I looked down at her had me releasing her immediately.

  “Shit, sorry. Just didn’t want you to make impact.”

  “It’s okay. It’s my issue,” she whispered, barely able to meet my eyes and choosing instead to look at her feet. I’d told Scott it was useless and I was bound to fuck up before I’d so much as walked out the door, but no matter how invested I was in spending time with her, it was impossible to avoid her constant distraction.

  When I saw the golden arches ahead of me, I made a split second judgment call. What the fuck would it matter when she’d already decided I was an abhorrent arsehole? The faster we ate, the faster she could escape. At least, that was my thinking.

  “How do you know Paris?” she asked suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts as I steered us toward the worst place for a first date since the dawn of time. At least she had deferred back to the small talk with questions I could answer with my eyes closed.

  “I own a club in town called Crystal. She used to work there for me. As you know, she used to like to party hard. I tried to do her a favour, give her a focus and a job.” I shrugged, not really knowing what to say about the past Paris and I had and how fucking complicated it was. So I said the one thing in the world that probably sent up a red flag faster than just saying it out loud. “She was a good employee.”

  “You knew her from the club. Wait… Have you two dated before?” And there it was, Blondie’s lack of filter that Paris had mentioned once when she’d been a little too high at the club and decided to talk about her best friend.

  I laughed quietly, guiding her further inside as I held the door open for her. She was so distracted with her accusation, I didn’t think she’d actually noticed our destination, which had worked out well for me. “No, I haven’t dated Paris.”

  I stopped at the counter and dragged my eyes away from her for a moment to acknowledge the lass behind the counter, allowing her to shoot off the standard greeting.

  “Welcome to McDonalds. May I take your order?”

  The moment her head snapped to the bird behind the counter and up to the menu, I knew she’d figured it out, and I could see the incredulousness in her glance. As much as I hated to admit it, I was having fun messing with her. Whatever she’d assumed, I’d been exceeding her expectations in a negative way, and although I could have done much better, the moment I saw that look, it occurred to me that I was going to be unforgettable. Even if it was for all the wrong reasons.

  My new goal was to bring back every little bit of confidence that had abandoned me at the start of the date, and where I could have backed up and taken her to the decent looking pub across the street, I decided against it and leaned on the counter to order.

  “Yeah, I’ll have a Big Mac meal with a Coke, please,” I looked over at her open-mouthed stare. She looked caught somewhere between completely appalled and amused. “Moffy?”

  “Umm, I’ll just have some fries, please.” She shrugged her bag onto her shoulder, unsure where to look as her lips pressed into a thin, white line that made her impossible to read. Once again, I was finding myself unsure of whether to be proud that I had her full attention now, or afraid. “You sure? I can’t get you some nuggets or something?”

  Her response was indecipherable, but the glassy look of humour, or maybe it was horror, was unavoidable as she mumbled about finding a table and left me alone with the server who’d started to look as appalled as Moffy.

  “Mister, your date looks really pissed off.”

  “You caught that, too?”

  “You did bring her here.”

  “Everyone’s a critic,” I said, shoving my change in my pocket and grabbing some straws. “Have you considered she might actually be an epic bitch?”

  “Well, no. Is she?” she asked, taking the tray one of her colleagues handed her.

  I accepted the tray and shook my head. “I haven’t figured that out yet.”

  I left the girl with her mouth opening and closing in confusion, and I headed to the table with my head down, unable to admit to myself that I’d already made up my mind. I liked this woman. I’d known little things about her from my Blondie spottings over the years, but that she had a sense of humour about all of this - I’d noticed her trying not to laugh at the table - just made her all the more appealing. There had been something playing on her mind from the moment I’d picked her up. There was a small part of her that had already made a judgment call about me, but even with the odds stacked against me, I wanted more.

  “So, Ethan Walker,” she said, leaning forward and smirking. She dropped her voice to a seductive, Hollywood whisper for effect. “Is this where you bring all the ladies?”

  I’d guessed that she’d been a little amused about the location of our date, and her question only confirmed it, as did the small smile playing on her lips. Every bit of tension in my body melted away with the curl of her mouth. I hadn’t realised how on edge I’d been or how much I had riding on this one date until I saw the smile. I slid further down in my seat, my hand reaching to scratch the top of my head as I assessed her. I would have felt bad if she hadn’t been doing the same thing. Reaching for some fries and dipping them in sauce, I gave her another look, my confidence building with every glance her way.

  “Eh, not really. This was kind of sprung on me at the last minute. I’m normally better prepared than this.”

  “You’ve been dreading this as much as me, haven’t you?”

  There was a part of me that should have recoiled at her comment. I should have been shrinking further in my seat, suffering the ill will of defeat as she finally admitted she didn’t want to be there. Infelicitously, for her anyway, I didn’t give up that easily. Had it been anyone but her, there was a chance I wouldn’t have been trying to sabotage myself in fear of rejection. Self-analysis had never been a good thing for me after my problems in the past, but that self-awareness was more of an enlightenment, forcing me to sit up and match her pose.

  “The whole blind date thing isn’t normally my style. It’s not that I haven’t been on one before; they just don’t tend to end well. Paris was rather… vague when she set this up. Though, in my defence, I’m enjoying this one.”

  “You are?” she asked, a small slither of confidence showing with her sardonic smirk. “Even though you’re tanking it?”

  “I’m tanking it?” I asked, my smile growing wide as I flashed her my most predatory smile.

  “Oh, so, so bad. This is, like, armageddon for your dating reputation. Imagine what all the other girls will say when I tell them Ethan Walker took me to…” She let out a gasp. “McDonalds. You’re doomed. Not even your looks can save you now.”

  Oh, how little she knew me. If my phone hadn’t chosen that moment to ring, she would have known it, too. I wasn’t sure where the playful part of her had come from, but I couldn’t get enough of it. Hell, if it had been anyone other than Dean on the phone, I wouldn’t have bothered to answer it, but the sudden disbelief as I noted the caller ID had me holding up one finger as I answered. I barely heard a word Dean said. My eyes were trained on her as she listened with more intensity than I think even she realised. Lucy was good to go. That was all I needed, and with a quick thank you to Dean, I hung up on him and set my phone back on the table. Our eyes met, my mind bypassing the phone call as I slipped straight back into our conversation.

  “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that, and I’m going to try to raise the standards a bit so you don’t think I’m an utter twat. Let me get you out of here. I have an idea.”

  “Okay,” she said softly, reaching for her bag. I was out of my seat and slipping my hand around hers to help her up before she could so muc
h as turn around. I knew exactly where I could take her next, and the thought of salvaging this date had me bouncing like a twelve-year-old about to enter Alton Towers for the first time.

  She looked adorable as she hit me with those baby blues. She was assessing me again, her eyes taking in every movement I made as I pulled her from the building and linked our fingers together; it was something I'd thought would never happen after almost eleven years of lusting after her. There was something comforting in the way our hands fit together, and I was reluctant to let her go as I towed her behind me, enjoying every second of her confusion as I kept us moving. I glanced over at her as we turned the corner and took in her easy smile that was much more at home than the scowl she’d aimed at me not an hour earlier.

  All too soon we were at the corner I’d been looking for, and with a sudden playful need to keep the smile on her face, I spun her in front of me, pulling her back against me, the heels of my hands carefully covering her eyes.

  “No peeking.”

  “Okay.” She giggled in my grip, her head moving side to side in disbelief as I began to guide her toward the door of the shop I hoped was still open. That I’d remembered it was there was probably a small blessing and salvation for a date that had begun so horribly. The tinkle of the bell above the door had my smile growing, my eyes taking in the glass casing with all the flavours of ice cream laid out for consumption. There wasn’t a woman on earth I knew that didn’t like ice cream.

  Forcing my hands away from the softness of her skin, I dropped them to my sides and watched as her eyes stayed closed and the ghost of her smile lingered. She was beautiful, and as I watched her eyes move under the thin membrane of skin, I took my time to appreciate every small detail on her beautiful face as her body rocked ever so subtly.

  “Open your eyes,” I whispered, suddenly desperate to see her reaction. I felt like a kid in a candy shop, all of it driven by the need to see her smile again. I should have known then that I was done for. Unable to help myself, I spoke again. “This place sells the most amazing ice cream.”

  Her eyes fluttered open, the pupils soaring as they focused against the light. She blinked a few more times before her smile grew as I’d hoped it would. It was worth each of the eleven years it took to get to this point.

  “I love ice cream,” she sang with enthusiasm. She turned her head and smiled with such gratification, I wasn’t sure if it was my heart or dick that did the twitching. I swear to this day that it was divine intervention that she and I moved in exactly the same moment. Whatever the reason, all I knew for sure was that the second her lips met mine, there would never be another kiss like it again in my lifetime. Not with anyone but her. In one second, she completely ruined any other woman for me. The awkward complexity of that kiss would stay with me for the rest of my life, no matter what the next moment held for me.

  It took everything I had in me to pull away from her, but there was no way in hell I could completely lose that connection between us. I needed her touch. I needed the electricity of it to pull my mind away from devouring her lips again and scaring her away completely.

  “It’s a surprisingly beautiful day for April. Seeing as we walked here, I figured we could make the walk back a little sweeter.”

  “That sounds like a great idea.” She bounced forward on the tips of her toes, dragging me with her as she headed toward the glass counter. Her fingers trailed along the front as she gazed at the flavours. “I’m going to have the mint choc chip. What about you? My treat.”

  “I know this is probably setting women’s lib back a couple of decades, but I’m a traditionalist. It’s my treat,” I growled, shaking my head and grinning. “You get whatever you wa-”

  The words disappeared the moment I looked up and over the counter at the girl stood behind it with an open mouth. Of all the people to work there, it had to be the only woman I’d ever attempted and fucked up a relationship with. My balls shrivelled the moment our eyes met, and my blood drained from my body, making the wonderfully revived date my worst fucking nightmare.

  “Hey, Chloe,” I said, knowing I had nowhere to fucking go. She hated me almost as much as I disliked her, and from the look she was wearing she hadn’t got over it like I had. She’d always been a cold, callous bitch, but the calculation behind her eyes told me she was about to force Moffy away and use a knife and two hands to do it.

  “Well, if it isn’t Ethan Walker, strip club entrepreneur,” she cooed, her cackle and snort of derision an audible challenge to be the arsehole she thought I was. “Who is she? Another dancer you’re fucking?”

  You could have heard a pin drop. Moffy sounded like she’d stopped breathing, and Chloe stood, looking triumphant as her hands planted themselves against her hips. Her head moved from side to side in victory as she looked between Moffy and me.

  “Sonofabitch,” I murmured, squeezing Moffy’s hand before she pulled it from my grasp.

  “Excuse me?” Moffy’s voice was low and dangerous, something I hadn’t expected from her, but I found myself proud of her for not putting up with the bullshit spat at her by some possessive ex of mine. “I am no dancer he is fucking, love.”

  It didn’t stop me from reacting, though. I lifted my hand to drag it down my face in horror. The fact that Moffy had to suffer the insults of this woman because I’d made a bad call years earlier was all on me, and as the colour drained from her face, years of women I’d scorned suddenly came flooding back. The anger I felt wasn’t just aimed at Chloe, but also at myself. I should have known better. I’d spent so much time seeking physical gratification to hide from my past, and here it was, possibly destroying my future.

  “Jesus Christ, Chloe. You’re a fucking class act. That was uncalled for. Looks like I definitely made the right decision, not that I questioned it once,” I snapped, all of my pent-up frustration aimed at her and her attitude. “And not that it’s any of your business, but no, she’s not a dancer.”

  I couldn’t stand there any longer. Flashes of women ran through my mind like a grainy movie reel. There was a chance this wouldn’t be the last time something like this would happen. With anyone else it wouldn’t have mattered, but the moment Moffy and I had kissed it had mattered, and I found myself worried she’d walk away, which put me in a dangerous predicament. My brain and mouth didn’t always match up when I was pissed off or worried. I spoke before thinking. I took Moffy’s hand and marched from the little shop and down the street, not giving a fuck where we were headed, just as long as it was away from there.

  “Don’t drag me, Ethan!” she snapped, digging her heels in. I’d barely slowed when I noticed her resigned sigh as she glanced back at Chloe who was sneering after us. “You have a reputation for sleeping with every dancer within a ten mile radius, huh?”

  I inhaled slowly, fighting the rejection that sat like lead in the middle of my chest. I should have known from the start that everything I had invested in this date was one-sided. Nothing I felt was being reciprocated. This made her question impossible to answer, and it was probably better I didn’t. Whatever I said was going to be the wrong thing. I could see it as she stared back at me with narrowed eyes and expectations I couldn’t meet.

  “Well, I’m sorry. I’m just not that kind of girl. So if you think I’m going to give you a blow job in exchange for a wink and a happy meal, you can think again.”

  “Hold up a minute, Moffy. You’re telling me that you’re just going to listen to what she says without giving me an opportunity to defend myself?” I demanded, unsure whether I should have just let her continue talking or defend myself. I chose the latter, which in that state of mind wasn’t the greatest plan. “Yes, I slept with her. Who hasn’t? I found out she was sleeping with most of the other lads in the club. She tried to play us off against one another so I fired her arse. It’s that basic. She’s bitter, resentful and obviously still sore she was caught out. Now she’s getting the retribution she thinks she deserves by making you think the worst of me.”

  Th
e defeat in her gaze was immediate. Her shoulders dropped as she snuck a gaze up at my eyes, an unspoken apology there before she dropped her eyes to her feet again. As much as I liked her, the next words from my mouth were simply defensive and a horrible overreaction to the situation.

  “I guess now that you have this bullshit image of me in your head, I should live up to it - screw your brains out and loosen you the hell up.”

  I knew I’d fucked up the instant the last syllable was spat out. The hurt and anger were immediate, but the gasp was like a spear through the heart that brought with it guilt and remorse that I couldn’t spit out fast enough.

  “Oh no… Please, please tell me you did not just say that,” she whispered. It was another knife to the gut to hear the pain there. If I hadn’t known better, I would have said she was as disappointed as I was, but as a newly eternal optimist I couldn’t allow myself to be delusional. Whatever ground I’d made was pulled from under my feet, leaving me on my arse with nothing but regrets and hatred for that woman, Chloe, who I’d let go of years earlier.

  “Just forget it. I should get you home,” I said, unable to stop the disappointment from eating me alive. I shook my head and lifted my hand to my face, pinching the bridge of my nose as the ghost of a craving decided to make the situation even worse.

  “If that’s what you want, fine.”

  “You think this is what I want? You think I like having my past thrown about and used against me? So I worked and slept with beautiful women… So sue me. Christ, Moffy, I can only imagine what you think of me. From your tone and attitude, I’d say it’s so far off the mark it’s not even funny. It’s fucking typical that shit like this comes up and ruins a date with someone I actu-” I cut myself off before I could go any further. She didn’t need to know how much she’d already affected me, how much I’d enjoyed her company. I was so caught up in my own line of thoughts, her next question threw me off guard completely.