by Nikki Ash
“Ethan—” I begin, but he cuts me off.
“No, don’t make excuses for me. She asked me to quit. Told me she was scared. I didn’t choose her all those years ago, and we lost our daughter. I don’t know what’s happening between you and me. I’m feeling shit I haven’t felt since Kelsi…”
Ethan takes a deep breath, and his eyes lock with mine. I can feel a shift in his mood. “I failed her, Angel,” he says, his voice filled with raw emotion. “And I’ll be damned if I fail you too. I might not have been able to keep her and our baby safe, but I will keep you safe.”
“That can’t mean taking another person’s life,” I tell him, understanding where he’s going with this.
“As opposed to you being taken and sold as a sex slave?” Ethan scoffs. “I’m not risking it. I’m not risking you. I choose you,” he says with conviction. “I’ll always choose you.”
He won’t fail me.
He chooses me.
He’ll always choose me.
“Ethan,” I breathe. “What are we doing?”
“Right now,” he growls, pulling my face to his. “I’m kissing you.”
Our mouths fuse, and our tongues unite.
Our kiss quickly deepens.
His skilled mouth devours mine, taking my breath away.
My hands roam over his shoulders, down his chest, and over his taut stomach. I don’t know what it is about Ethan, but when I’m around him, whether it’s watching a movie, or playing Blackjack, or taking a walk down the pier, everything else fades into the background, leaving only Ethan and me, locked away in our own world.
When my shaky hands land on the button of his pants, he freezes and backs up. “Angel,” he murmurs.
“Ethan… I want you.”
When he doesn’t say anything, I open my eyes and find his closed, his face contorted in pain. “You don’t want me?” I ask, trying and failing to keep the hurt out of my voice.
“Are you fucking serious?” he says, his eyes flying open. “Of course I do. Look at you. All sexy and innocent, sitting on my lap like a living, breathing temptation sent from the devil himself.”
“So, then what’s the problem?”
“Let’s take things slow,” he says gently. “We’re just getting to know each other. We have all the time in the world.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I don’t let him see. Instead I nod and climb off him.
“Nevaeh,” he says, pulling me toward him. We’re both now lying on our sides, facing each other. Ethan is still in his dress pants and shirt, and I’m in a pair of his boxers and shirt. I have my own pajamas, but I love to wear his. They’re soft and comfortable.
“It’s fine,” I say, not wanting to have this conversation. I’m so in over my head when it comes to this guy. My body and mind become mush around him, and for some crazy reason, he’s decided he’s going to be the voice of reason. I roll over, so I’m no longer facing him, and he sighs. The bed dips slightly, and when I peek over my shoulder, I see he’s gotten up and walked out of the room.
I close my eyes, refusing to let the tears come. Just as I’m falling asleep, the bed dips again, and Ethan wraps his strong arms around my body. “Good night, Angel,” he murmurs. And with a soft kiss to my neck, I fall asleep in Ethan’s hold.
I wake up to find the sun shining through the blinds. It’s morning. At some point in the middle of the night, I ended up with my head on Ethan’s chest, and my legs intertwined with his. Not wanting to wake him up, I peel myself from his body and quietly pad to the bathroom to go pee. After I wash my hands, I head downstairs so I can surprise him with breakfast. It’s Sunday, so he won’t have to go to the club today. Maybe we can hang out or do something.
“Morning,” Raquel says. She’s sitting at the breakfast bar, sipping on a cup of coffee.
“Morning,” I say back. “I’m going to make breakfast for Ethan and me. Would you and Andrew like to join?”
A sad smile mars her face. “I’m not sure if we should…”
“Ethan will forgive you,” I tell her, taking her hands in mine. “You just need to give him time. Explain why you did what you did, and go from there.”
Raquel nods. “Okay.”
While I make enough pancakes, eggs, and bacon to feed an army, Raquel and I chat about her time in the Dominican Republic. She asks about me, and maybe it’s because I haven’t really had anyone to talk to since everything happened with my brother and mom, but I end up spilling my guts to her. About my brother’s death, my mom lying to everyone, walking away from her and the church…
“My entire world has revolved around the church and my mother since the day I was born,” I say. “For the first time it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Like the possibilities are endless… But…”
“But you can’t run from your problems because they are a part of you, and until you fully deal with them, they will weigh down on you,” Raquel says, finishing what I was thinking but couldn’t put into words.
“You ran from yours,” a masculine voice says. I turn around to find Ethan leaning against the doorframe. Gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips, and a white T-shirt across his chest. His hair is messy from sleep, and his eyes are hooded over.
“Yes, I did,” Raquel says. “I was speaking from experience.”
“Come sit,” I tell Ethan. “I’m almost done making breakfast.”
When I turn back to the pan, I feel Ethan at my back, his large hands wrapping around my waist, and his chin landing on my shoulder. I freeze in my spot, soaking up his attention. All the years with Gerald and he never made me feel the way Ethan does.
“I woke up without you,” Ethan murmurs into my ear—the disappointment in his voice making me smile.
“I wanted to make breakfast. I was thinking maybe we could do something today.” When he doesn’t say anything, instead nuzzling his face into my hair and planting kisses on my neck, I add, “I know there’s still a threat, but maybe we could bring some of your men and I don’t know… just get out of here.”
When I got home last night, I crossed out Learn to play cards. I still have an entire list of things I want to do and not enough time.
“We can figure something out,” Ethan says, stepping away from me. The warmth from his body leaves mine, and I want to beg him to come back. “Have anything in mind?”
I toss the last pancake onto the plate and turn the oven off, thinking about my list. A few of the items I can’t do yet, like get married or become a mom. It’s beautiful outside, so I can’t dance or get kissed in the rain. We could go skinny-dipping, but we’re not there yet. Skydiving or going up in a hot air balloon would need to be reserved…
“We could go get tattoos,” I blurt out, and Ethan laughs. “Or, I mean…” I try to think what else is on my list. “Go shooting.” I flinch when I process what I just said. Stephen was killed by a gun, and now the idea of learning to shoot isn’t as appealing. “Or swim with sharks.”
Ethan’s laugh turns into a full-on belly laugh. “That’s quite a list,” he says, his eyes meeting mine. “While we’re at it, why don’t we go skinny-dipping and get a couple piercings?”
Motherfucker! I mean, effer. No! I had it right the first time. Motherfucker! He did see my list. “You saw it!” I accuse, and his eyes widen.
“I’m starved,” he says, snatching the plate from me and setting it on the table.
“Don’t change the subject. You saw my list.”
“What list?” Andrew asks, walking into the kitchen and joining his wife at the breakfast bar. He kisses the top of her head and grabs a piece of bacon, popping it into his mouth.
Not wanting to explain, I shrug and play it off. “Just a list of things I’d like to do.”
Everyone piles the food onto their plates silently. I’m worried the entire breakfast will be awkwardly silent, until Raquel speaks.
“I’m sorry for leaving… for running.” Her eyes meet Ethan’s and he stills in his seat.
My hand reaches over and I squeeze his knee, hoping to comfort him. It must work because he sighs softly and his body relaxes.
“I was heartbroken over what happened with Kelsi and the baby, and I reacted.”
“You already had one foot out the door,” he says.
“You’re right. I did,” she admits. “I shouldn’t have run. I should’ve fought harder, for my husband, for my son.”
“You would’ve lost,” Andrew says. “You did what you had to do to feel safe.” He covers his wife’s hand with his own. “You asked me to go legit and I didn’t listen. But I’m listening now, mi amor.” He kisses her lips and my heart picks up speed. I want what they have. The love and connection.
“Just like that?” Ethan asks, but his tone isn’t accusing like it was last night. Instead it’s curious. “Twelve years she’s been gone and you two are acting like she never even left.”
“Life is too short,” Andrew says. “I spent the last twelve years making plenty of money, but I never found the love I had with your mother. My only regret is that I didn’t go to her sooner. No amount of money or success is worth a damn if you don’t have someone to share it with.”
Andrew lets go of Raquel’s hand and leans toward Ethan. “I was wrong, Son. I taught you that money and power come first. And when your mom left, I was so stuck on my pride, I didn’t show you what a real man would do in that situation. I should’ve chased after her, begged her to come home. I should’ve given up my businesses. I should’ve chosen your mother. It’s twelve years too late, but I am choosing your mom.”
Ethan’s and my eyes connect.
I choose you. I’ll always choose you.
“It’s not too late,” Raquel says to her husband. “Too late would be if one of us weren’t here, but we are, and we have a second chance.” She turns to Ethan. “And I hope you and I can have a second chance as well.”
Ethan nods once and then clears his throat. “I think that can be arranged.” Then he says to me, “Breakfast was delicious. Why don’t you go take a shower while I clean up and then we’ll head out?”
“Sounds perfect.” I jump from my seat and kiss his cheek. I’m not sure which item on the list we’re going to do, but the prospect of doing any of them has me excited.
After taking a quick shower and getting dressed, I check my phone and find several more missed calls from my mom. Not wanting to put it off any longer, I dial her number.
“Nevaeh,” she cries. “Did you get my messages?”
“I did.”
“Your brother… he’s dead.”
“I know, I heard.”
I shouldn’t be as mad as I am, but I can’t help it. Hearing her cry like she is when she refused to acknowledge my brother as her son for the last several years irritates me. I know she has a right to her feelings, but it still rubs me the wrong way.
“I’ve been in contact with the police and his body wasn’t able to be retrieved. The funeral has been planned for the day after tomorrow at our church.”
“He didn’t even attend your church,” I point out. Stephen had a will, but it didn’t specify the type of funeral he wanted, and since he doesn’t have a wife or children, it makes sense our mom would plan it, but still…
“Nevaeh, now is not the time to be defiant,” Mom snaps, showing her true colors. “When will you be home? I need you here to help.”
“You don’t need me for anything. I’ll be at the funeral. I have to go.”
I hit end on the call, and when it rings, I hit ignore. I wait for her to call back again, but she doesn’t.
Needing to hear my best friend’s voice, I find Blaire’s name on my contact list and hit call. It barely rings once before she answers.
“Nevaeh!” she gasps.
“Hey.”
“Your mom called me. When she couldn’t get a hold of you, she tried me. Is it true? What she said? Is Stephen dead? Did he die in a fire while he was asleep?”
“Yes,” I say softly. The pain in her voice reminds me of the pain I feel. My brother is dead. His heart stopped and it’s never going to beat again.
“I’m so sorry,” Blaire cries. “I hate that you’re not near me right now. I want to hug you.”
I swallow the lump in my throat over missing my best friend. It feels like the day Stephen died, I lost Blaire as well. There are so many lies, so many things I can’t tell her. It’s creating a wall between us.
“The funeral is Tuesday.”
“Your mom told me. You’ll be there, right? You’re coming home?”
“I will be there, but…”
The door opens and in walks Ethan. When his eyes land on my face and he takes in my tear-stained cheeks, he asks, “Everything okay?”
“Hey, Blaire, I’m going to have to call you back.”
“Who was that?” she questions, obviously having heard Ethan’s voice.
“Um, just a friend,” I say, unsure how to explain who or what Ethan is to Blaire without getting the third degree. “I’ll see you Tuesday.”
Before she can argue, I hang up and press the button to power off my phone.
“Who was that?” he asks.
“Blaire. I was calling to tell her about my brother. My mom has arranged the funeral for Tuesday.”
He nods.
“Will you go with me?”
Ethan cuts across the room and pulls me into his arms. “Wherever you want me to be, I’ll be there.”
“Thank you.” I take a breath I didn’t know I was holding in and give him a kiss. “So, what’s the plan for today?”
“It’s a surprise.” His lips curl into a boyish grin. “Pack an overnight bag and hurry, so we’re not late. We have a little bit of a drive ahead of us.”
“We’re leaving New Jersey?”
“We’re not going far, only to New York, but we won’t be back until tomorrow night.”
I can’t help the squeal I release at the thought of getting away. I went to bed last night mourning my brother all over again, and I know when we get back and I have to go to the funeral I will be mourning him once again, but it will be nice, even for a little bit, to just put my broken heart aside and focus on what he asked of me: Live hard. Love harder.
I look at Ethan and my heart squeezes in my chest. With him by my side, I’m pretty sure I can do both.
Nevaeh
“Forbidden Ink?” I ask, when we pull up to the storefront. With traffic, it was a little more than a two-and-a-half hour drive to New York. Ethan wouldn’t tell me why we were driving up here, but that didn’t stop me from guessing. Of course with every guess, he just laughed and told me he wasn’t confirming or denying.
“It’s a tattoo shop,” Ethan explains. “We have a hotel and casino here, and when I drive up to check on it, I come here to get my ink done. The guys here are the best around. I wouldn’t trust anyone but them to tattoo me.”
He gets out of his car and comes around to open my door for me. “Wait, so that’s what we’re doing here? Getting tattoos?”
Ethan grins. “And a piercing.”
My list! I knew he saw it. “I can’t believe you went into my room and snooped through my stuff.” I cross my arms over my chest and pout. “There’s such a thing as personal privacy, you know.”
“I didn’t mean to,” he admits. “I was grabbing your stuff from your drawer and came across it.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a piece of paper, and it’s then I realize he has my original list, not my new one.
“It’s quite a list,” he says, handing it to me.
I push it into my pocket. “You probably think it’s stupid… Everything I want to do are probably things you wouldn’t even second-guess doing.” I shrug, suddenly feeling the difference between Ethan and me. He’s so experienced, worldly, while I’ve been sheltered my entire life.
“I don’t think it’s stupid,” he says. “I think it’s brave. To force yourself out of your comfort zone.”
“As I’m sure you saw, I haven’t reall
y forced myself out of anything,” I admit. “I’ve had it for years and only when I went to your club and got drunk and kissed you did I even do anything worthy of being on the list.”
“And what a kiss it was.” Ethan waggles his brows and pulls me into his arms. “And now you’re about to cross two more off your list.”
“Will you get one too?”
“I’m not sure how good I’ll look with my nose or belly button pierced,” Ethan jokes. “Although, I could get my dick pierced.”
If I were drinking, it would be all over the place. My face heats at the visual of Ethan’s dick being pierced, and he throws his head back in laughter, the sound spreading goose bumps all over my body.
“I meant a tattoo.”
“I know, but it’s fun to mess with you.” He throws his arm across the back of my shoulders and we walk into Forbidden Ink.
I notice the sign says they’re closed on Sundays, so I’m confused as to why they’re open now, until we step inside and a gorgeous raven-haired woman with beautiful, colorful tattoos running down her arms smiles at Ethan and calls him by name—she must’ve been expecting us, which means she opened just for us.
“Willow,” Ethan says, as she rounds the front desk and gives him a hug. “You’re looking beautiful as always.”
“Such a charmer,” she says back, before giving me her attention. “And you must be Nevaeh.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I tell her, putting my hand out.
She glances down at it for a second, before she laughs and pulls me into a hug.
“So, I hear you’re a virgin.”
When my body stills, my skin warming in embarrassment, Ethan leans over and whispers, “She means an ink virgin.”
“Oh, yes.” I give her an overly friendly awkward smile. “I’ve never gotten a tattoo before.”
“Well, I’m excited to be the first to mark your body.” She winks.
“She also wants to get pierced,” Ethan points out.
When I give him a wide-eyed look, he laughs. “You might as well knock two items off your list while we’re here.”
He’s right, but I was already about to have an anxiety attack thinking about what to get tattooed. Now I need to consider what to get pierced.
