“Do you think anyone heard us?” I ask, grabbing a few towels on a shelf to clean us up.
“I hope they all did.” He smirks, zipping up his pants, and I roll my eyes.
“Thank you for coming, Vada,” he says. “On my mouth.”
“So dirty,” I say, adjusting my clothes. “Don’t you think you should get back? Everyone is probably looking for you.”
He tries to straighten his messy hair, and I laugh.
“How do I look?” he asks.
“Like you just had sex. Swollen lips and guilt written all over your face.”
He dips down and kisses me again. “Good,” he says before opening the door and pulling me out with him.
A few people saw us coming out of the closet, and I’m a bit self-conscious, but I decide to take pride in my walk of shame. We’re both adults, enjoying each other’s company.
Ethan’s hand is leading me as we walk back into the main room and through the crowd. Women look over their shoulders at us and snicker, probably knowing what we were just doing. I’m sure I look as guilty as he does, but he wears it with no fucks given.
Hours pass as I sit in the front row and watch him, completely mesmerized by his amazing skills. Each time he throws me a wink, I playfully roll my eyes at him because I don’t want to get shanked when I leave here. Before too long, I realize I need to get back to the house. At Ethan’s next break, I tell him I need to leave.
“I understand, babe,” he says.
“I still have to call the airline and make arrangements to reschedule my flight, but I’m going to do that once I get back to the house.”
Once the Uber arrives, he walks me out and pulls me into his arms. “Bye, babe. I’ll see you very soon.”
“You will,” I tell him, placing a quick kiss on his lips before getting into the car.
I wave at him and blow a sweet kiss that he tucks into his pocket before he heads back inside the studio. Letting out a sigh, I decide I want to do something nice for him tonight and ask the Uber driver if she can take me to a grocery store instead. She agrees and drops me off at the door.
“I can wait for you if you’d like,” she offers.
“That’s okay. I might be a while. Thank you, though,” I tell her, and she gives me a wave and drives off.
My phone vibrates, and I see a text from Nora. I guess she figured it out after all.
Nora: DOES HE HAVE AN OLDER SINGLE UNCLE?
I laugh and send her a text back.
Me: No. And your cap locks is on again :)
Nora: DAMMIT.
I swear to myself that when I get back home, I’m going to teach her how to use that damn phone. Laughing at her, I walk inside and grab a cart and go straight for the steaks. As I’m looking at ribeyes and sirloins, trying to decide which one to cook, a tall, Paris blonde woman stands close beside me. She has long, lean legs and a pretty face; the woman could be a model.
As soon as we make eye contact, she flashes a smile. “Oh hey, I recognize you,” she says, matter-of-factly, though I’ve never seen her in my life.
I’m kind of confused. “Really?” I tilt my head, trying to figure out if I recognize her or not.
“Yeah, you were just at Ethan’s studio, weren’t you?” she asks, her smile never fading, yet her tone is giving off a weird vibe.
I smile back at her, not really wanting to make small talk but decide to be nice. “Oh right. Yeah, I was.”
“So I have a somewhat personal question,” she tells me, sliding her cart to one side, so we don’t block the aisle.
I’m not really sure what to say, so I just nod.
“Are you seeing Ethan? Like, are you two a thing?” she asks, her nose wrinkling.
I open my mouth and close it, trying to draw my attention back to grocery shopping. “Something like that, but I’m sorry, who are you?”
“I’m Harmony. It’s nice to meet you,” she says in an overly sweet tone that sounds fake as she holds out her hand, but I don’t take it. “Anyway, I know you’re not from around here, so I thought I’d give you a warning about him.”
I furrow my brows and look at her like she’s lost her damn mind, but still, I’m intrigued to hear what she has to say. I already know about his past and secrets, about his wife and daughter; what else could she possibly have to tell me?
“He likes to make women think he’s falling in love with them, especially ones who are just in town on vacation. He makes them believe that they’re different from anyone else he’s ever been with.” My brows raise, shocked by her bold statements.
“You’re lying.” The words blurt out of my mouth before I can stop them.
She looks at me with pity before continuing. “He has the same MO with all of them, honey. Takes them out on special dates to the beach where he’ll hold your hand, and you’ll walk along the sand barefoot together. He’ll bring a blanket for you both to sit on, and that’s when he spills his guts to you, just to hook you in even more. Then, once he’s gotten his fix of you, he drops you like a bad habit, as if you and he never happened. He’ll make you believe you’re something special, that he’s falling hard, and can’t get enough before moving on to the next. Then you’re left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.”
I feel sick. My head is spinning because she just replayed the most intimate part of our date. There’s no way she could know that. We weren’t even in town. The only person I told was Nora, and I doubt he’d tell anyone outside of Aunt Millie. How the hell does she know all the details? I instantly feel like a fool, and my heart hurts.
She carefully studies me, twitching her lips as if she’s happy with my response, before she continues. “He told you all about his late wife and baby down at the beach, didn’t he?” she asks when she notices all the blood rushing out of my face. “That’s his pity game, darling. He knows women can’t resist him, but once he makes them think he’s going all in, they become putty in his hands.” She flashes a genuine, apologetic smile. “Hook, line, and sinker,” she confirms, and I wish she’d just stop talking so I can process her words.
Ethan’s avoided relationships for years, but I know that doesn’t mean he hasn’t had one-night stands or flings. Why would he need to manipulate them when he’s the one who doesn’t want anything more than a physical relationship? But then again, how would she know about our date on the beach and him sharing those intimate details with me? What if it really is his MO? Questions swirl around in my mind, but I can’t make sense of them. Nothing is making sense, yet I feel my insides twisting.
Finally, I clear my throat and speak. “How do you know all this?”
“Because I’ve been in your shoes, hon. So have many other women in town. Once the news started to get around of his dating rituals and women were onto his scam, he moved to tourists only, which is no secret why he rents out the cottage.” She purses her lips as if it should all be clicking in my head right about now. “Same old story, too. He says he only does one-night stands to make us feel like we’re something special, but once he’s bored, we’re kicked to the curb.” Her expression is firm as if she’s warned others before. “I know it’s none of my business, but I just felt like you should know. We women have to stay together, ya know? But you can do whatever you want. I just wouldn’t feel right walking away and not giving you a warning, since, by the look on your face, no one else has.”
I don’t even reply or give her a chance to continue again before I walk away without my cart. As quickly as I can, I find a bathroom and close myself in a stall, and that’s when the tears unleash. Is that all this is to him? A game? Was I stupid enough to believe someone like Ethan could really fall for someone like me, especially when he dates women who look like Harmony? Every trust issue I’ve had in the past surfaces full force as I think about how easy I let a guy like Ethan in. What the hell was I thinking?
Looking down at my phone, I see my hand shaking. Slowly, I’m crumbling and feel like everything I thought I knew was a lie.
I’
m a fool.
I should’ve never trusted him so easily.
He made me believe he was different and that letting my guard down wouldn’t come back to bite me, but it looks as if I was wrong. Again.
I’m drowning in emotions as I schedule another Uber to take me back to the cottage.
My heart is shattering into a million pieces, and I’m pissed off that I put myself in this situation once again. That bad boy type has always been bad for me, and I realize I was the stupid girl who fell for the same old re-spun lies.
I need to leave.
I need to pack my shit and get the hell out of here as soon as possible.
18
Ethan
After I help clean up the studio, I hug and thank Millie and Mama for all their support in this venture of mine.
“I really like your friend, Ethan,” Mama says with a twinkle in her eye, and it’s the first time she’s really given her approval for a lady since Alana. It makes my smile grow even bigger.
“She’s cute. Perfect for you. Seems real nice,” she adds, smiling. I know she’s being sincere, too.
“She is, but tell me what you think about her once you’ve read her book, the one Aunt Millie made you download.” I laugh, knowing it’s probably full of dirty, vulgar sex scenes, especially if Vada’s words are anything like the Vada I know in bed.
Millie bursts out into evil laughter. After standing for a little while longer, we exchange big hugs then I walk them out to the car, making sure they leave safely.
“We had a record day in sales,” Hilary says excitedly when I walk back in. I round the counter, and she points her finger to the screen, showing me the amount.
“That’s great news. I can’t wait to make the donation to the March of Dimes,” I tell her with a smile. If there’s a premature baby out there that has a fighting chance, I want to do everything I can to save a life and someone else from going through what I did. Jessica, who’s in charge of scheduling and other maintenance, lets out a loud aww, but I try to ignore it. I don’t do it for recognition. I do it to make a difference, as small as it may be.
“Do you need anything else before I head out?” I ask, trying to change the subject.
Several interns speak up all at once saying they’ve got it, and I know they do.
“Fine,” I tell them with a smile and a wave before I leave for the day.
On the drive home, all I can think about is seeing Vada again, kissing Vada, being with Vada. My thoughts are consumed with her. She’s on my mind every moment of the day, and when she’s away, it’s like a part of me is missing. That woman somehow stole a piece of my heart, and I don’t want it back. Hell, she can keep it as long as she’s here in Charleston with me.
I drive across town and replay the last week, and I’m so fucking happy Vada is extending her stay. We’ll have more time to be together and see where this leads. In my heart, I know this is the real deal, but I need to make sure we haven’t rushed into something crazy. Regardless, I’m already falling hard for her, and there’s no rescue mission in place. Truthfully, I don’t want to be saved. Just the thought of her smile, laugh, the way she says my name, or the look on her face when she loses herself with me, makes me feel things I haven’t in a long-ass time.
Before I head home, I stop and pick up a dozen red roses and a bottle of Cabernet, since I know it’s her favorite. There’s a lot of celebrating to be done since my Vada is staying. Eventually, she’ll have to leave, but hopefully only to pack her apartment and return back to me.
Tonight, I want to order in and spend the rest of the night showing her what she truly means to me. At the studio, when she walked in, it was like everything around me had faded to black, except her. Vada makes me feel something I never knew I’d feel again—whole.
When I park the car, my heart lurches forward, and I’m so damn excited to finally be home. It was the longest drive ever. I walk through the house, hurry and feed Wilma, then go through the back door with the roses and wine in hand. The smile on my face almost immediately fades when I see all the lights are off in the cottage and the door is locked. Thinking that she’s probably trying to surprise me, I walk back to the house and immediately climb the stairs to my bedroom. Opening the door, I realize she’s not there either.
“Vada?” I finally call her name.
I wait but don’t hear a reply.
Going back downstairs, I set the flowers and wine down, and that’s when I see a handwritten note on the counter.
Confused, I pick it up and read the scribbled words. With each sentence, I feel like I’m choking.
My heart is torn as I write this, but I’m leaving for Chicago tonight. By the time you get home, I’m sure I’ll already be on the plane. After I left the studio today, I realized how stupid I was being. I can’t be here, Ethan. I won’t be played, and I won’t allow myself to be that girl. It’s better this way.
—Vada
I notice the splashes of ink on the paper and know she was crying as she wrote this, and it tears me apart. Immediately, I pull my phone from my pocket and call her, but it goes straight to voicemail.
My voice cracks when I speak. “Vada, please call me. I don’t know what you’re talking about or what happened since you left the studio. Please talk to me so we can figure this out.”
I know I sound desperate, but the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time just walked away with a half-ass explanation, and I need to know what triggered this. Everything was absolutely perfect when she left the studio. I think about the last words we exchanged, and it was goodbyes, surrounded by smiles. If I would’ve known she’d be leaving for good, I would’ve never let her get in that car earlier. Something happened, and I’m going to lose my mind until I know what.
Halfway hoping this is some sick joke, I walk back to the cottage with the key tightly grasped in my hand and almost lose it when I see all of her belongings are gone. Her suitcase, laptop, everything. It’s as if it was all a dream and she never happened.
“No,” I say, quietly to myself. “This isn’t happening.”
Instead of giving up, I keep calling her, hoping she’ll answer, but she never does. After everything we’ve been through, after I ripped my heart open and poured myself out to her, she leaves me. Vada saw my true, raw self, and she still left, and the thought of what I’ve lost cripples me.
It’s been a week since Vada left, and it’s like my whole world has shattered into shards again. She rejects my calls and sends me straight to voicemail. I’m pretty sure I’m blocked at this point because I’ve called and texted so much, begging her to talk to me. Regardless of what I say on those voice messages, she doesn’t return them. I have zero control over this, and while I’m trying to be patient and give her time if that’s what she needs, it’s not in my nature, especially when I’m hurting so badly.
There’s a hole in my heart, and I miss her so fucking much.
“Why don’t you go to her?” Millie asks as we drive across town to pick up some plants for her front porch. She refused to let me stay home and wallow in my emotions and even pulled the old people card to force me to join her.
“Because she doesn’t answer my calls, so why would she want to see me? All I want is an explanation of what the hell happened, some clarity on what changed from the time she left the studio to when she decided to bail. Everything was going so great, then she was gone.” I ball my hands in fists, and I feel like I’m losing all the control I’d found when she was here.
“Tell me what the note said again,” she insists. “Maybe I can read between the lines.”
I repeat the note without even having to look at it because I’ve read it so many times and have the damn thing memorized. Millie sits silently while she thinks and parks the car.
“Something significant enough to make her change her mind must’ve happened after she left the studio. That’s what you need to figure out,” she tells me matter-of-factly as if I hadn’t already been trying to put the pieces toget
her. I’ve been driving myself insane thinking of different things, but nothing makes sense.
I roll my eyes as I unbuckle, then mumble more to myself as I get out of the car. “Leave it to detective Millie.”
Not waiting for me, she grabs a cart and walks inside the store. This is the last thing I wish I were doing right now, especially considering I’m in such a pissy mood. By the time I find Millie, she’s looking at an ugly bush and talking to someone who’s even uglier–Harmony Hansen—an ex-fling I’d rather forget about.
“Oh, hey Ethan,” she says in an over-the-top, high-pitched voice. “So nice seeing you last weekend at the studio.”
“Yeah,” is all I offer, and Millie elbows me in the ribs for being rude, but things didn’t end well between us, and I’m not going to give her false hope by being polite.
Harmony knew the rules between us. One night, that was it, but she didn’t get the hint until I kicked her out of bed the same night. From that point on, she’s desperately tried to get back in bed with me, but I knew what she wanted and what I wanted were two different things. I wasn’t ready for anything serious, but she made it very clear she wanted something long-term. A husband. I was in no emotional mindset for that.Though it’s been years, she hasn’t given up on the thought of us. Harmony is literally the epitome of stalker ex. After one night, she was obsessed. If I could go back in time, I’d erase the history between us. It was a stupid, liquor-influenced mistake.
“Don’t mind him, hon. He’s in a bad mood. So what have you been up to lately?” Millie genuinely asks. “Haven’t seen you at the book club meetings in a while.” I really have no reason to stay around, so I pretend to look at plants, hoping this isn’t a long conversation.
Millie talks about the books she’s been reading and mentions Vada’s name. My heart sinks at the thought of her.
Vote Then Read: Volume II Page 134