by L. J. Stock
“Paris is beautiful. Did you sleep with her, Ethan?” My mouth opened and closed several times. The last thing I wanted to do was lie to her, but it was yet another case of how do you come back from that? How the fuck did I explain the circumstances of that disaster and poor lapse in judgment with Paris, and not mention that it almost cost me my fucking life?
“I’m out,” she finally whispered.
I saw my entire future crash and burn as she adjusted her bag and started to march away. I watched completely helpless as her steps faltered and she pulled her phone out. She probably couldn’t wait to tell Paris what a mistake she’d made, and there I stood, unable to stop her because my mind was a mess of past mistakes and the possibility of happiness that was suddenly glancing over her shoulder at me.
“I can’t do this, Ethan. I’m sorry. I need to go. It was nice to finally meet you, to talk to you. Take care of yourself.”
Say something arsehole. Or you’re gonna have to let her go forever… “Moffy, please – please wait!”
She took off running with such intent her hair streamed behind her and she was forced to pull her bag in front of her, clutching it against her stomach in her need to escape. I followed as quickly as I could, a glutton for punishment and a closet gentleman that needed to see that she made it home safe, a residual effect of all those years trying to protect her and Paris from afar.
I followed her to the door, my breaths heaving from the impromptu running session. She was still as fast and agile as I remembered her being, and it was only the fact that she struggled to get the key in the door that gave me the opportunity to stop her from closing the it completely. I don’t know why I did it. I didn’t suffer fools, and rejections generally slipped off me like water from a duck’s back, but this woman was so much more than that. She always had been. She was still too good for me, but I’d wasted a lot of time already. I’d wasted years I could have had with her because I hated myself and what I was. I needed her to see the real me. I needed her to give me a second chance even more than I needed the craving to leave me the fuck alone.
That single-handedly gave me the inclination to fight.
“Ethan, please. Let it go. Consider this a date from hell and walk away.”
There was some comfort in the fact that she couldn’t see my desperation. I could feel it inside of myself, but I was spared the humiliation of it being observed by the object of my affection.
“Listen,” I said, inhaling as deeply as I could, hoping I could at least make some sense and maybe get that second chance after all. “I get that I made an absolute cock up of this date. Normally, I’d turn around and walk away, but, well, you fucking intrigue me, alright? Give me a chance to do this the right way. I’ll have my car back soon. I’ll take you somewhere nice and we can talk without all the awkwardness of being set-up and feeling like we have to make it work. Give me a chance to get to know you, please?”
Her hesitation was apparent. She wouldn’t so much as look me in the eye as she hauled in a deep breath and stared at my foot, still lodged between the door and the frame. I was afraid she’d tell me to do one and I’d lose whatever chance I had of making it up to her. Her doubt was rolling from her in waves, and my chest tightened, readying itself for the disappointment. She was fully capable of breaking my heart, something I hadn’t been sure I would ever give anyone the power to do. Maybe that was why I’d kept her at such a distance all those years. I was too broken. I’d thought myself incapable of it, but there I was, stood blocking her front door like an absolute twat and asking her to take a risk on me because I was willing to take a risk with her.
“Ethan, I’m not… I’m not emotionally ready,” she said quietly, lifting her head. The sound of her voice told me she was on the verge of tears. “This isn’t anything to do with you. You haven’t lost this game.”
“Game?”
“I’ll call you, okay? Maybe we can be friends.” I was still stuck on the word game, but I heard the lie in her voice as she tried to satisfy my pleading. There wasn’t much more I could do to convince her when I was already a distant memory, but I couldn’t give up hope completely. Digging into my pocket, I pulled out my cards, slipping one out and handing it to her with my heart on my sleeve for the first time since Mum had died.
“I’d really, really like it if you did.” I said, seeing nothing but hurt and the need to escape radiating from her. The gut-wrenching sadness was like a slap in the face, but my sudden fear of rejection was pushed aside as the desire to make her smile again slipped into my bloodstream. “Bye, Moffy.”
Stepping out of the garden gate without a backward glance, I headed back to the bus stop with my shoulders curled in and my hands in my pockets. I wasn’t a quitter. I’d never given up on anything in my life, except drugs, and that was a good kind of quitting. Moffy hadn’t seen the last of me.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I dialed my loft and waited for the pick up I knew was inevitable.
“That was record time, lad. You just burst in there and take her like the caveman you are?” Scott asked with a laugh, the sound of the beer being knocked back silencing him.
“No sex, mate. In fact, she ended the date and pushed me away as hard as she fucking could.”
“You sound happy about this, why?”
“She’s in love with me, fucker. She just doesn’t know it yet.” I laughed down the phone. I wasn’t always as confident as I made out, but with this woman, I knew what I wanted, and I wanted her with every fibre of my being. I’d never felt anything like it before, which is exactly why I knew I wouldn’t ever be able to let it go.
For the first time in my life, I knew with absolute conviction that she was meant to be a part of it. As disastrous as the date was, I hadn't thought about anything but seeing her smile the entire time we spent together. She was the first thing, in a long time, I'd found myself willing to fight for, and that battle had already begun.
I wouldn't give up until she was mine, even if I did think she was too good for me. This girl was going to make me as mad as a damn hatter, and no matter which way I looked at it, I knew my journey was only just beginning.
Authors Playlist
I think, as with all things in life, there are certain tools you need in life to get you by. For me, writing is very much something I need in my life, it's akin to breathing. Hand in hand with writing, is music, and Ethan was no exception. Here is the playlist for Ethan Walker's Road to Wonderland.
Alibi - Banks
Helpless/Bloodlines Pt. II - Sir Sly
Coming Back For You - Maroon 5
3,6,9 - Cat Power
Into Your Heart - Futurecop!
Northern Lights (Taken by Trees x Belief Remix) - Katie Boy
Baby Please - WE ARE TWIN
Hold Back The River - James Bay
Firestone - Kygo
Phone Call - High Highs
Ends Of The Earth - Lord Huron
Lying Through Our Teeth - Finish Ticket
Holland - Novo Amor
La Song - Lewis Watson
Welcome To The Jungle - Novo Amor
Home - Dotan
Careless - Alex Winston
Wild Ones - Bahari
Wallow - Coasts
Adrenalize - In This Moment
House Of The Rising Sun - Five Finger Death Punch
About The Author
From a young age L.J. Stock was led by her imagination. From the moment she could read she fell into worlds where trees could talk and little girls could move things with their minds.
In no hurry to grow up, she found stories all around her, in the forests of Plym Bridge, the moss covered hills of Dartmoor, then, as she grew older, the wide spread city of Houston, where she currently resides and works. A constant daydreamer, she hopes that one day, her passion can become something more than just a hobby for her.
Still led by her imagination, the worlds have slowly grown from childish adventures to urban fantasies and romances. With inspirational autho
rs such as Enid Blyton, Roald Dahl, Judy Blume, John Grisham and Stephen King guiding her through her life so far, L.J. Stock has finally decided that it is time for her to go for gold and try land herself on someone else’s future list of favorites.
Putting words on paper is as essential as breathing to her, but on the rare occasions that she isn’t writing, she can be found with a video game remote in hand or curled up on the couch with her pup and a good book. Music is also such an important part of her life, it’s a wonder there isn’t a background soundtrack playing wherever she goes.
A good girl to most, a bad girl to a few, L.J. believes that every genre should be attempted and is more than likely to have tried to release three hundred series’ ranging from vampires and werewolves, to dystopian and even classic romance, before she reaches even middle age. At least, that’s the plan for now.
Currently available from L.J. Stock:
Without Consequence: Babylon Book 1
A collaboration with Victoria L. James