Ethan (Face-Off Book 5)

by Jillian Quinn

  Well, that’s not going to happen. At least not on Will’s watch. When it comes to my brother, he would put a chastity belt on me if he could.

  “Start with me,” Will says, his voice filled with anger.

  I cross one leg over the other and spin my chair to face Will. With my back turned to Ethan, I can breathe a little easier.

  “What’s there to know about you that I don’t already? You’re my brother, the starting right winger for the Flyers, and you ended the regular season with sixty-one points. Very impressive, by the way.”

  Will gives me an amused smile. “You did your homework on me, huh?”

  I nod. “It’s part of my job. I read everyone’s bio and stats before I left the office.”

  “You always do more work than you need.” Will crosses his arms across his chest. “My sister, the book nerd.”

  “Don’t mock the photographic memory, Romeo.” I laugh as does Will. “Moving on. I know your stats, position, and all the basics. I even know why you started playing hockey. We can skip the usual crap.”

  “No one has ever written that story about me, you know. I told a few reporters about how Pop-Pop would take us ice skating when we were kids and how he gave me my first hockey stick. All they cared about was who I was dating and if I had any skeletons in my closet.”

  “As a journalist, I can tell you that would bore the readers to death. Only hardcore fans care about your personal life and why you started playing hockey. I’d want to write about scandals, puck bunnies, baby mama drama, you know, the fun stuff.”

  “I wouldn’t call that fun,” Ethan says, his gravelly voice forcing me to look at him as he speaks. “Our personal lives aren’t something for reporters to go digging through to sell papers.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that, Waters. Don’t get your boxers twisted. I was just saying that juicy personal stuff is what sells newspapers.”

  Ethan frowns. “It’s how you said it as if you’re chomping at the bit to find some dirt on us to print.”

  “There’s not much to cover for you,” I shoot back. “Sex and hockey, rinse and repeat. Oh, and the occasional binge drinking. Did I forget something?”

  “There’s more to me than hockey,” he spits back, defensively.

  I flash an arrogant smile in his direction. “I don’t doubt that. Care to answer the question I asked you earlier?”

  Ethan grinds his teeth together, clamping his mouth shut.

  “Didn’t think so,” I say with a wink.

  No matter how hard I’ve searched Ethan’s past, it reads like a clean slate. Except for one thing. Even his family’s money and connections couldn’t erase the news articles about his twin brother. Ethan was in the car with Erik when he crashed. Erik was the golden boy of his high school, and from what I could tell, the favorite of the twins.

  Ethan never spoke about his brother to me. He acted as though what had brought him to Pennsylvania was as simple as a new business venture for his father. The details in the local papers were limited, most likely silenced by his father. If Will knows about it, he’s never once mentioned it to me.

  “If you won’t give me something worth writing…” I tell Ethan, “… then I guess I’ll have to make something up. How about a secret baby or something juicy?” I laugh to let him know I’m joking.

  Ethan shakes his head at me, his nostrils flared. “Don’t you dare or you’ll pay for it later.”

  “Ooh, I’m shaking.” I throw my hands up in the air. “You have no power over me.” I push my chair out from the table to get a better look at Ethan and Will. “To save time, I’m going to throw questions out there, and whoever answers first, wins.” I chuckle as I remove the tape recorder from my messenger bag and hit record.

  I fire questions at them. Ethan and Will attempt to answer at the same time as if they’re actually in a race to win. Sinking into the plush leather chair, I record their answers, eventually moving on to the other players, all while I’m daydreaming about Ethan.

  Damn, I’m so screwed.

  Chapter Eight

  Ethan

  After the interview ends, I leave the Wells Fargo Center with Will. My head is a little fuzzy from spending the last hour with Mia while she grilled us with questions. How am I supposed to do this every day for the next month? We’re days away from our first playoff game. This is the time to focus, not the time to get myself caught in the middle of what could be a bad situation if I give in to my desires for Mia.

  “We should do something nice for Mia,” Will says as he slides behind the wheel of his BMW M3.

  He loves this car as much as I did my old Mustang. It was the only car he ever talked about when we were in high school, and playing for the Flyers has made both of our dreams a reality.

  I glance over at him. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I was thinking we could stop by the grocery store on the way back to her place so we can make her dinner?”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “You don’t know how to cook.”

  “Maybe not but you do.”

  I shake my head, staring out the window as he drives off the lot. “Bastard.”

  “Hey, you wanted to stay with my sister. The least you can do is show off those culinary skills while you’re crashing on her couch.”

  I forgot to mention that part to Mia. Will had every intention of staying in a hotel until I talked him into asking Mia to let us crash at her apartment. A few weeks in a confined space together should hopefully be enough to convince her that I’m not the asshole she believes, despite the fact we can’t ever be together.

  She’s one of my biggest regrets. I can’t change what happened with my brother, but I can try to change things with Mia.

  “It wasn’t my idea to stay with her,” I counter, getting comfortable in my seat.

  These stupid racing seats are not meant for men who are six foot four and weigh two hundred twenty pounds.

  “You asked me to call Mia,” Will says. “I wanted to rent a hotel room for the night, but you had a hard-on to sleep at Mia’s.”

  I cross my arms over my chest and sigh. “That’s not how it went down. I only suggested you call her so we could meet up with those girls without having to deal with moving our shit. We were both tired from being on the road. Don’t act like you wanted to bother with any of it.”

  Will drives down Broad Street, headed toward Chickie’s & Pete’s, a popular seafood restaurant everyone in Philly loves.

  He clenches the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the busy street. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter where we sleep, anyway. Since we’re off tomorrow, you can cook for us tonight. Knowing Mia, she won’t eat unless we fill her fridge with food.”

  “She’s always been stubborn.”

  “She gets it from our mom,” Will says, making a left off Broad Street.

  “Where are we going? The supermarket is in the opposite direction.”

  “I’m stopping at the butcher. Mia likes the veal from the Italian place over here.”

  “I take it I’m making veal parmesan for dinner.”

  He nods. “Mia will love it. She’s too skinny. She needs a decent meal. I think she lives off bags of junk food, tap water, and the free coffee she gets from work. And the Chinese place below her apartment… when she can afford it. She’s too damn proud to ask for a handout, even though I’d give her anything she wants.”

  So would I. Anything.

  I feel this odd sense of responsibility for Mia. If my circumstances were different ten years ago, I would have taken care of her. I wouldn’t have run away to deal with the mess I’d made.

  I glance out the window as we drive through South Philly. “We shouldn’t go out tonight. I still have a hangover.”

  “Since when do you turn down a chance to party? We don’t have to drink, but my sister needs to get out of the house. If Mia’s not working, she sits at home and watches movies or reads old newspaper articles. That’s not normal for someone her age.”

  “N
o, that’s definitely not normal. But Mia is a big girl. She can take care of herself.”

  Will parallel parks in front of the butcher shop and turns off the engine. He glances over at me, frustrated not with me but with his sister. “You saw how well she’s taking care of herself. Her job pays shit, and she refuses to take any money from me. That girl has too much pride. The least we can do while we’re staying with her is feed her and show her a good time.”

  I could show her a good time, all right.

  “Don’t do that.” Will points at me with a disapproving expression on his face. “You have that creepy look about you like you’re up to no good.”

  I want his sister under me, on top of me, on her knees, and in my bed. Yeah, I’d say that counts as being up to no good. Will would kill me for having these thoughts about his sister. I can control myself, I think. Maybe staying with Mia was a horrible idea. We should find another place to live, but this could be a fresh start for Mia and me. There are a whole lot of maybes rolling around in my head.

  “Nope.” I wink. “I’m down with the plan. Let’s show Mia some fun.”

  She can use it.

  Unlike my luxury apartment that overlooks the Camden Waterfront, Mia’s place is a three-floor walk-up in the middle of Center City. The entire building smells of the Chinese food that wafts up the stairs from the restaurant on the ground floor, which is now mixing with the delicious scent of my Italian cooking.

  As I open the oven door to check on the veal, I hear Mia drop her keys in the hallway and curse loudly. I can’t help but laugh.

  A few seconds later, Mia comes crashing through the front door and throws the grungy messenger bag she carries everywhere on the floor.

  She tips her nose up to the ceiling, her eyes wide as she glances over at me. “You’re cooking dinner? Wow!”

  “Why do you look so surprised?”

  “I had no idea you still cooked. I figured by now you’d have a personal chef making your meals since you’re rich.”

  I was always rich.

  She walks into the kitchen and hops up on the counter, surveying my body. Either she doesn’t care that she’s blatantly checking me out or she doesn’t realize she’s doing it. Will would have a stroke if he saw the way we’re looking at each other right now.

  “I’m full of surprises, princess.” I wink at her and then turn around to stir the sauce in the pot.

  Mia scoots closer to the stove and looks down at the pot. “It smells amazing. I can’t even remember the last time I had food that didn’t come from a bag or the Chinese restaurant downstairs.”

  “I figured as much. This dinner was Will’s idea. You can thank him for taking pity on you.”

  She snorts. “I don’t want your sympathy. I live the way I do by choice, thank you very much. Food is overrated, and so are hot men who can cook.”

  “Don’t let Will hear you say that.” I raise the wooden spoon from the pot and blow on it before putting it in front of Mia’s mouth. “Taste it.”

  At first, she’s apprehensive, but she follows my order. Good girl.

  “Mmm…” Mia licks the remaining specks of sauce from her lips. “This is amazing.”

  She draws my attention to her mouth, her tongue, and her luscious lips. I start thinking about how good her lips will feel like wrapped around my cock and have to stop myself from getting a boner in her kitchen. With Will in the shower and only ten feet away from us, I have to keep my head in the game.

  Mia leans forward with her eyes fixed on me. “So, what are you making me?”

  “Spaghetti, veal parm, and fresh garlic bread.”

  She grins so wide her teeth are showing. My expression mirrors her, my cheeks hurting from how much I’m smiling.

  “Ethan Waters made me dinner. I’ve never had a man make a meal for me.”

  “Don’t read too much into it.”

  “Still, this has to be a big deal for you. Clarke will flip out when I tell her about this. I think she has a crush on you.”

  “Most women do,” I deadpan.

  She laughs and points a finger at her chest. “Not this one.”

  I drop the spoon on the stove and step in front of her, pulling her thighs apart with both hands so I can move between them. Sliding my hands up her legs, I take my time, careful not to take things too far. Leaning forward, I move my palms to the counter on both sides of Mia and laugh on the inside when she sucks in a deep breath. She holds it and waits for what feels like a minute before she exhales.

  Even beneath her sweater, I can see her nipples harden, the tiny buds poking through the thin fabric. If I had to guess, her panties are wet right now. She’s close to panting when I move close enough to kiss her. I consider making a move until the bathroom door opens and hits the wall with a loud thud.

  Will pads down the hall and closes the spare bedroom door behind him. Thankfully, he didn’t catch us. I was so close to following through on what I left unfinished years ago.

  I want her.

  I need her.

  But I can’t have her.

  I bend down and whisper in her ear, my breath on her skin causing her body to tense. “You were saying, princess?”

  We engage in a staring contest, my dick getting harder as she brushes her fingers down my arm. She rolls her tongue over her bottom lip so slowly I can’t stop myself from mimicking her movements.

  “I think your sauce is burning.” Mia tilts her head to the saucepan that’s bubbling over.

  “Shit.” I grab the wooden spoon from the cooktop and stir the sauce until it simmers down. “You’re too distracting,” I confess as I remove the sauce from the hot burners. “Can you do me a favor and set the table? It’s time to eat.”

  Mia hops off the counter and bumps into the spoon in my hand, splashing sauce down the front of my shirt. She grips the fabric in her hands and eyes the fresh stains with her mouth wide open. “I’m so sorry, E.” She wets a dishtowel and dabs at the spots. “Let me fix it. I can get this out for you. Take your shirt off.”

  “You know there are other ways to get me naked,” I whisper.

  Mia peeks up at me, unable to speak.

  Will startles both of us when he enters the kitchen and pulls out a chair at the table. “Is it time to eat or what?”

  “Almost.” I begin to unbutton my shirt, and for some unknown reason, Mia attempts to help me. Our fingers collide at the same time, her touch sending a prick of electricity along my skin.

  What is she doing? Will is right here.

  Will glances down at the cell phone in his hand and laughs. “Hurry up, Chef Boyardee. I’m fucking starving.”

  I ignore Will’s comment, thankful he’s too preoccupied to notice me flirting with Mia. He was pissed when I touched her knee earlier. I knew I crossed the line, though when I’m around Mia, it feels natural.

  Since I moved in with Will, I’ve done all the cooking. He does the cleaning, though he’s shitty at it and usually pays someone when I’m not around. Our arrangement works for us, but living together with Mia is another story. I have no idea what roles we’re supposed to play. Mia has made it perfectly clear she wants me out of her apartment and her life, but her body says otherwise.

  Staring into each other’s eyes, we both suck in a deep breath and let it out. I make the first move and step back from Mia, shaking her hands free from the buttons on my shirt.

  She turns on her heels, a blush creeping up to her cheeks. Looking over her shoulder at me, she tips her head in the direction of the laundry room. Does she want me to follow her?

  “I have to change my shirt,” I tell Will. “Give me a few minutes, and then we’ll eat.”

  He nods, his head down and fingers scrolling across the keypad of his phone. “Sounds good, man.”

  The room feels even smaller when both Mia and Will are in it. I can breathe easier without Will here to judge me. He critiques every move I make with his sister. Sometimes, I act on instinct when it comes to Mia. I have no idea what I’m doing mos
t of the time. And the same goes for her.

  I know she still cares about me, even though she pretends to hate me. She should hate me for acting like a coward. Back then, I owed her a goodbye, at the very least. I should convince Will to rent a suite with me until our apartment is fixed. But I don’t want to leave. It’s taken me years to gain her attention again. I’m not about to leave now.

  I find Mia in the laundry room. With her back to me, she reaches up on her tippy toes to grab a bottle of stain remover from the shelf. After I take off my shirt, I move behind Mia and press my hip into hers, causing her to gasp.

  I set the shirt on the washing machine in front of her. “It’s all yours.”

  She spins around. “Are you going to do this to me every chance you get?”

  “I’m not doing anything,” I lie.

  Her breath hitches when I lean in, and she doesn’t pull away from me. Our mouths are only a few inches apart, our eyes locked and aware of the sexual tension between us. Panic scrolls across her face. She’s unsure of how to handle this situation. Neither of us can deny the connection we share. I think Mia wants me to kiss her. But I can’t. Not with Will in the other room.

  I move my hands to her sides, pinning her in place with my body. She leans back against the washing machine as I grow harder against her thigh. Mia closes her eyes and wets her lips, practically inviting me to kiss her. She wants this as much as I do.

  When I brush my lips against hers, she lets out a soft moan. It’s nothing more than a light touch to tease her. To test the waters. A tiny smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth. Having this kind of power over Mia gets my blood pumping, giving me a high unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

  “Ethan, what are you doing?” Mia chokes out, her breathing erratic. “Will could walk in here any minute.”

  “But he didn’t,” I point out.

  Frustrated, she sighs. “You should put dinner on the table before Will comes looking for us. You know how he gets when he’s hungry. I’ll be there in a few.”