Ethan (Face-Off Book 5)

by Jillian Quinn

  Contents

  Also by Jillian Quinn

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  Dean

  Are you on the team?

  Dear Reader

  Also by Jillian Quinn

  About the Author

  Also by Jillian Quinn

  FACE-OFF SERIES

  Parker

  Kane

  Donovan

  Jameson

  Ethan

  Dean

  FACE-OFF LEGACY SERIES

  Pucking Parker

  Keeping Kane

  Teaching Tucker

  Jocking Jameson

  Kissing Killian

  Defending Donovan

  STANDALONE ROMANCES

  On Call

  Curveball

  Chasing Ella

  One More Chance

  For more information, visit JillianQuinnBooks.com.

  Copyright © 2019 by Jillian Quinn

  All rights reserved.

  Visit my website at JillianQuinnBooks.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Ethan was originally published as More than Roommates in a slightly different version. This edition is revised and expanded.

  Chapter One

  Ethan

  By the time I pull into my driveway, it’s dark outside. My parents didn’t even bother to leave the light on. And why would they? It’s not like they even care if I come home anymore, not after what I did.

  My body hurts from training too hard, the ache burrowing deep inside my bones. Every time the phantom pain from my past comes calling, I try to ignore the throbbing sensation spreading down my thigh. But when that happens, the darkness always wins out. I never fight it. Because I love chasing the next high and the sweet rush of adrenaline as it courses through my veins.

  I need the reminder that I’m still alive, even though I feel like I died a long time ago.

  I should have died.

  It should have been me.

  Now, I’m left with the guilt, pain, and a constant reminder of how much I fucked up, the scar above my left eyebrow—another reminder. Every time I look in the mirror, I have to confront my past. If only I could embrace it before it eats me alive from the inside out.

  I blink a few times to clear my vision and get out of the Mustang, a late sixties Fastback my grandfather had left to me in his will. I was born into a family with old money, the car being one of the many toys I’d inherited from Grandpa Joe along with a sizable trust fund. They say money can’t buy happiness. I know that more than anyone. Because no amount of money can erase the parts of my life I wish I could forget.

  Leaning against the door, I stare up at the old colonial I moved into last year with my parents. After what had happened back in Boston, they forced me to leave my friends and relocate to Lower Merion, an upscale suburban town on the outskirts of Philadelphia.

  For once, the light isn’t on in my father’s office, yet he’s home. That’s a first. He must have drunk himself to sleep. I can only hope. When the house is still, I like to sneak in through the back door to avoid my dad. He hates me for all the trouble I have caused. Even though he won’t say it, I know he wishes I’d taken my brother’s place.

  I have trouble keeping my eyes open, the weight of my day and everything that came along with it hitting me all at once. After I cut through the hole in the tall hedges surrounding my property and step into my backyard, I glance over at the Roman’s house. It has the same brick front and painted shutters as mine, though the chips in their blue paint shows years of wear and neglect my father would never tolerate.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I catch something moving. I look up at the top floor to find Mia pushing open the curtains to her bedroom window. She can hear the purr of the Mustang’s engine from around the corner. My best friend’s little sister is always waiting for me when I get home. And despite the shame I feel about keeping our nights together a secret, I don’t regret spending a single second with Mia Roman.

  Sitting on her windowsill, Mia smiles down at me. She’s the one good thing in my life. I often catch myself thinking of what it would be like to kiss Mia. Then, I remind myself that Will, her older brother and my best friend, would kill me for even thinking about her. A girl this sweet should stay far away from a monster like me.

  But once I look into her pretty blue eyes that light up every time she sees me, I’m a goner. I have trouble staying away from my precious little lamb. She’s the one girl who sees all the darkness in me and welcomes it. Mia never judges me, and I never have to hide from her.

  My vision blurs slightly as I look up at her, my balance a little unsteady. Damn, how much shit did I take? On nights like these, I don’t care as long as the pain goes away.

  Mia raises her hand to give me a tiny wave, which I return before she tilts her head toward the shed in the backyard. What had started as us talking to each other from our sides of the fence turned into us spending most nights together. We meet at the swing set on the opposite side of her parents’ old shed. It’s our retreat from the world. If only I had the nerve to tell her everything. But I fear she will grow to hate me, same as everyone else who knows the truth about my past, and I can’t have that.

  I give her a quick nod to acknowledge I’ll meet her later. She has to wait until Will passes out before she can sneak out of the house. I wave one more time, with the promise to see her, and remove my cell phone from my pocket. Using the light from the screen, I jam my key inside the lock and push my shoulder into the door. The damn thing sticks when it’s hot outside, making it harder to avoid my parents.

  Luckily, the lights are off in the kitchen, so I creep through the darkness and head toward the stairs. The house is eerily silent. Drawing unwanted attention to myself in this house will only get me in a world full of trouble. For the most part, my dad is harmless. He mostly yells and curses, taking out his frustration on me.

  I climb the steps, thankful to make it to the third floor without getting hassled. But my small victory is short-lived. When I push I open my bedroom door, my dad is sitting on my bed with a wooden box in his hand. Carved by hand, from bark my grandfather had at his cabin, the box holds all of my secrets—memories of Grandpa Joe and Erik, old family photos of happier times, and the one thing I never wanted him to find.

  Hidden deep beneath the velvet lining is my biggest secret, one that my father now knows. Why else would he be here?

  My dad sighs when he hears my footsteps, slowly glancing up at me
with tears in his eyes. His face looks puffy as if he’s been crying for a while.

  “So, this is the reason?” He holds the box out for me to take, and I do, stealing it away from him in a hurry.

  Hands trembling, I flip open the top and sift through the contents.

  He shakes his head. “You’re leaving. I want you out of my house and out of my life.”

  Reeking of bourbon and cigars, he gets up from the mattress and stands in front of me. Even with my height and build, he still has age and power over me.

  Sometimes, I let him take out his aggression on me. I deserve it. All of it.

  My lip trembles along with the rest of my body. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Yes, you are, Ethan. I don’t want to hear another word. Your grandmother is expecting you. So is Whitmore.”

  The mention of Whitmore makes me cringe. I’m not fucking going there.

  “I’m eighteen now. You can’t make me go.”

  He tilts his head back and laughs. “Oh, yes, I can. Your grandfather put a provision in your trust. I’m in charge of it until you’re twenty-five. I’d like to see how far you get without a cent from me.”

  I roll my shoulders, unaffected by his threat. “Then, I’ll ask Grams.”

  He uses my grandparents’ money against me all the time. We’ve had this fight more times than I can count, and I’m sick of it.

  “Think again.” He smirks. “She won’t budge, and neither will I.”

  “Then, I’ll get a job.” I come face-to-face with him, so close that our noses are almost touching. “I don’t need you or your money.”

  “Maybe not, but you need my connections. One phone call is all it would take to ruin your professional hockey career. Do you want that? Because I can take away everything you’ve ever wanted in the blink of an eye.”

  He doesn’t need to say it aloud, because I know what he’s thinking. I took everything from him.

  “No,” I mutter, the word a whisper on my lips.

  No matter how smart I think I am, he’s always one step ahead of me. He knows better.

  “I’m supposed to go to Strick U with Will in the fall. Coach is expecting us.”

  He shoves his hands into his pockets and steps back so he can look into my eyes. “Not anymore. I called the school and declined your acceptance. The coach was disappointed you’re not joining Will, but you have more important things to worry about. Get some help, Ethan. You need it.”

  I do need help, and I hate to admit my father is right. For once, he’s calm, instead of the usual belligerent mess I have grown accustomed to over the last two years. All of my bad qualities I get from him. We’re alike in so many ways, yet we act as though we have nothing in common. I’m not Erik. I never will be. That’s all that matters to him.

  He shakes his head at me one last time, disappointment and disgust registering most when he looks at the box in my hands. “You are going. End of discussion. Have your bags packed and ready. You leave after graduation.”

  I consider running away. But how far would I get without money? My car would run out of gas before I made it one state over. I’m completely dependent on him, and that’s no one’s fault but my own. With my only real friends next door, I could live with the Romans. But I don’t want them to know about my old life. I keep that shit locked away along with the secrets I bury in this box.

  Maybe one day I will tell Will—he should know the person he calls his best friend. But Mia? I can’t stand the thought of her looking at me any differently than she does now. Even if what she feels for me is just a childhood crush, I don’t care. The hour each night we spend together instantly repairs all the shitty parts of my days.

  After my dad leaves my bedroom, I sit on the mattress and glance out the window. Mia’s room faces mine. I remember the first time I saw her as if it were yesterday. She was singing into a hairbrush, wearing nothing more than a yellow bikini with white polka dots. She’s so innocent and pure, with her pale skin and blonde hair that’s almost white, hence why she’s my little lamb.

  Now, I have to break her heart along with mine. I have to say goodbye.

  Chapter Two

  Mia

  Sneaking out the back door, I hold my breath and hope for the best. I do the same thing every night. If my older brother ever finds out that I meet his best friend in our backyard, he will kill both of us. I’ve been hanging out with Ethan Waters behind my brother’s back for months. We wait until after midnight, when our houses are silent, and then we drink soda and eat junk food while we rehash our days.

  It’s the only thing I look forward to anymore. Knowing that Ethan is waiting for me, my heart races so fast my head spins. Every nerve ending in my body comes alive in anticipation of seeing him again. We both know what we’re doing is wrong. But do we care? Not really. And it’s not like we ever crossed the line, despite the nagging desire I fight to kiss Ethan every time he’s within twenty feet of me.

  If Will ever discovers our secret friendship, he will lose his shit. My brother has a strict rule about his friends doing as little as looking at me, let alone hanging out with me. Ever since Ethan moved from Boston to Lower Merion last year, we’ve danced around the idea of us being together. A few times, I thought he might kiss me. Instead, Ethan stopped, his lips inches from mine as his breath warmed my skin.

  The closer Ethan comes to graduating from high school, the more nervous I am about our relationship. We’ve become friends, and some days, I need him a lot more than he needs me. I live for the nights when we have this special time to ourselves. With my brother always around, I can never get close to Ethan.

  I shut the door behind me, doing my best not to make a sound. My parents turned off their light twenty minutes ago, forcing me to wait for Will. But he never sleeps. Once I hear his PlayStation turn on, and the sound of bombs penetrating the wall we share, I creep down the back stairwell. Almost every night I repeat the same routine.

  A small part of me likes sneaking around with Ethan because of the risk involved. It’s exciting. Being with Ethan is unlike any other experience I’ve had with a boy. Well, he’s not a boy. Ethan is a man now.

  Ethan never treats me like Will’s little sister. He knows better than anyone my brother is way too protective of me. The first time Will caught Ethan staring at my lips for longer than normal, he went ballistic. Ethan never looked at me again that way—at least not in front of Will.

  When I reach the shed, Ethan’s on his usual swing, staring down at his feet. My heart aches at the sight of him. He looks so depressed. I instinctively crouch in front of him and wait for him to raise his head. Our eyes meet, the electric current flowing between us sends a chill down my spine.

  “Hey,” he says under his breath. His eyes are red-rimmed and glassy.

  “Hey, yourself.” I grab his knees to stabilize myself, and Ethan clasps my wrists with his calloused hands. A brush of heat dances along my skin, making me dizzy from the simple connection between us.

  I take in his manly scent, a hint of laundry detergent mixed with cloves, and stare into his green eyes. A strand of shaggy brown hair falls over his forehead, giving him an unkempt look I have come to appreciate. He’s the hottest guy in the neighborhood. Hell, Ethan Waters is the hottest man in the city. And he’s here with me, of all people.

  “Why do you look so bummed?”

  He shrugs, still holding onto me. “My dad. You know, the usual.” Ethan turns his head to the side, the moonlight hitting his tanned skin just right. Ethan releases his grip on me and touches the scar above his left eyebrow. He winces, something he does all the time as if what gave him that scar still haunts him.

  Ethan and his parents have issues, about what, I have no idea. He likes to make jokes about bad situations where I tend to shut down. Sometimes, my family can hear the Waters screaming at each other from the other side of the fence. Mr. Waters is an asshole of the highest degree. If Ethan as much as slacks off at hockey practice, loses a game, or gets less than an ‘A
’ in school, he gets a lashing from his father. Anything less than perfect is unacceptable.

  Ethan says his father is only trying to toughen him up, but I disagree. Though, I’m here to listen, not to tell Ethan what to do. That’s why our arrangement works so well. He talks about hockey, school, and his parents without any judgment from me. The only topic we never discuss is girls, and I prefer to keep it that way for my sanity. I would go crazy knowing if my crush has any interest in girls who are not me.

  I get up from the crouched position in front of Ethan and sit on the swing next to him. “I’m here if you want to talk about anything.”

  He turns his head, so our eyes meet, and a hint of a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “I’d rather hear about your day. Tell me something good.”

  Ethan starts all of our conversations the same way. No matter how bad of a night he’s having, he always wants to know more about me. I love that he puts me first. In fact, I love everything about Ethan. But he’s off-limits. My brother would never understand our relationship, and my parents would have a fit given our three-year age difference.

  On occasion, my mom makes comments about the way I look at Ethan. She’s even more concerned about the way he looks at me as if I’m the only person in the entire room. School used to suck, and so did the catty girls who tormented me daily until Ethan took care of them for me.