Ethans Fal

by Dee Palmer

  I am not remotely pissed that Ada had managed to transform my entire travelling wardrobe into something only Barbie would wear in both size and colour. But when I return to the bar a few hours later with my sack of laundry, I am more than happy to not let her know this. It’s playtime; let the games begin. I had called Buddy to make sure I didn’t make a wasted trip and by the look on his face, he still isn’t happy with me. It’s not in my nature to hurt a woman, so I really don’t see what his problem is. It’s in my nature to have a little fun though, and I plan to have a great deal of fun this whole summer. I nod over to Buddy and ask for my usual to be sent over to the corner booth, where a crowd of my old friends are drinking. Ada is squished in between Jake and Cathy, polishing cutlery, and folding it into neatly parcelled napkins. There is a raucous, cheery greeting when I approach, much back slapping, shoulder-bumping, and full on sloppy kisses, even some from the girls in the gathering. These are a great group of friends. There is an easy, instant connection and familiarity that instills an uncommonly good feeling of belonging, deep inside. It’s good to be back.

  “Sweet!” Jake calls over to Buddy. “Celebration, Buddy, the prodigal son is back! The next round is on Ethan!” I tip a nod over to Buddy in agreement, and there is a deafening cheer of approval. Sky is serving behind the bar, but rushes round and bumps against me in a friendly hug. Then pulls back and full-on punches me in the arm. She’s scowling, but her lips are creeping into the faintest smile all the same.

  “Fuck, Sky. I’m sorry, okay? Really sweetheart, I am sorry for how I acted. You know last time. It won’t happen again.” I raise a cheeky brow, but my apology is sincere.

  “Aw, don’t say that, Ethan.” She pouts and I laugh out loud. She is the least likely person I know to bear a grudge, and her earnest smile says as much. “And I’m sorry I broke into your apartment. That, I promise, won’t happen again. What went on in your apartment, on the other hand….” Her unfinished sentence is left hanging, but her meaning is clarified when she pushes her tongue hard into her cheek several times, her mime attempt of a blowjob. She swallows back a fit of giggles and sighs loudly.

  “Ah, missed you, babe.” She leans up on her tip toes and kisses me hard on the cheek, then punches me once more, a little harder this time. She follows my new line of sight and whips her head between me and Ada, who hasn’t looked up from her folding. “Don’t look at her like that, she’s not working. She’s doing me a favour, so I don’t have to stay late. I mean, so I don’t have to stay even later when we close because you are a massive dick.” She huffs and turns on her heels, and squeaks away in her flip flops. I call after her.

  “I’m an arse-hat that is still your boss, so less insults and more drinks serving to my friends.”

  I turn to face Ada, her wide, deep-blue eyes flash with something before her scowl returns. I dump the black sack on the table directly on top of her stack of cutlery. With one hand I upend the sack and tip the contents. More clothes than you would think could fit in a small bag erupt and spill over the table and onto Ada’s lap. She sits back in shock, carefully picks up one of the items holding it high, and appraises it.

  “I think this colour brings out the inner you.” She holds up the one blood red jumper in a sea of mottled pink. Not only has she coloured all the clothes this sickly pink, but the cashmere jumper she is holding is an angry, tight shrunken shadow of its former self.

  “Red hot, you mean?”

  “More like the devil.” She quips but her face flashes with concern when I keep my own expression stern.

  “You ruined a lot of clothes here.” My tone is effective at gaining the attention of the crowd, and Ada squirms under my interrogation. Even better is that I like the idea of her squirming because of me. “I would like to know how you intend to pay me for the damage.”

  “I don’t…” Her jaw clenches. “You can afford it!” she snaps.

  “Really nice attitude, Ada. You ruin someone’s stuff and just because they work hard enough they can afford to replace it, they should just suck it up, is that right?” Her brows knit together in a cute display of real concern, and she worries her bottom lip.

  “I…I…don’t think that.” She straightens her shoulders and meets my glare with fire. “I just don’t have the funds right now.” Her subtle reference isn’t missed, but I find it strange she hasn’t dropped me sacking her into the conversation for all to judge. Whether it is deliberate or an oversight, I am strangely grateful I don’t have to field a barrage of passive aggressive judgements.

  “Come round to my place tomorrow, and we can sort something out. You did a piss poor job of cleaning today and like I said, I’m entertaining tomorrow evening.” The conversations around our interaction, which had momentarily started again, stop at that magic word.

  “Party, Ethan?” Jake queries with a knowing grin.

  “Party, Jake.” I confirm. There is a loud cheer, which drowns out Buddy’s request to clear my shit off the table. After a few rounds of drink, I notice that Ada is still only drinking water. I slide in next to her and wait. I can feel her heat beside me. She seems to forget her animosity toward me, relaxes her reservations, even presses her thigh against mine, before she abruptly tenses and tries to inch away. I fill the space like water; I like the contact, I like her heat and I like that I affect her.

  “Do you have to sit so close?” She tips her head to look at me. Her eyes are narrow, but her pupils are large, dark wells. I meet her gaze for the first time since our little altercation earlier and I lean closer than is necessary. Her breath catches and I am instantly hard.

  “You know I do; I really do.” My lips are just below her ear, and her smell and the way she shivers is intoxicating. It’s so subtle I’m not sure even she is aware of it, but then her eyes flash with a panic and understanding. Yep, she’s aware. Making a sudden retreat, she pushes Cathy, who is seated on her other side, from the booth and she scrabbles to escape. Not sure I can identify the sensations that cause my stomach to tighten when she looks into my eyes, but there is definitely something about Ada I find intriguing, and I fucking love that I affect her like I clearly do.

  I must have a shit eating grin on my face right now, because Buddy rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Ada takes a seat at the bar. She accepts a take away hot chocolate from Buddy and whispers in his ear for a few moments. This irritates me enough that I walk over and interrupt.

  “Don’t come to mine too early. I plan on catching the tide in the morning.” I lean against the bar and smile at her confused expression.

  “And that has what to do with me?” She purses her lips like she can’t imagine it does.

  “Well, I want to be there to supervise the cleaning. Make sure the job is done properly this time.” I want to laugh as her eyes widen with outrage, but I keep my face imperious.

  “I’m not coming back to your place,ever!” She crosses her arms and my cock twitches at the resulting sizeable swell of her breasts.

  “We both know that’s not true.” I step closer and sweep my arm around her waist. She gasps, but not at the embrace. No, she gasps when she feels me press my hard length into her hip. “You owe me for all that laundry you ruined, and that equates to a shit ton of cleaning in my book.” Her face flushes bright red, and this time I can’t help but laugh out. She shoves me hard, and grabs her drink. She storms to the door and I call after her, “Besides, I have your phone!” That makes her stop. Her face is like thunder: beautiful, dark and dangerous. She hesitates but only for a second, clearly not wanting to draw attention to herself, she mouths the word ‘arsehole’ back at me. She turns and leaves, and my chest feels tighter when she does.

  “You know at this moment in time, I think she is spot on. What is wrong with you?” Buddy asks, but I can’t answer him because I don’t know. I shrug. I stay at the bar until it’s empty and I can ask Buddy the question that has been burning me up since Ada left.

  “So what were you and Ada discussing so secretly? You two have a thi
ng?” I can’t hide the unpleasant feeling this thought evokes, because I say the last word like it is foul in my mouth and I have to spit it out.

  “Fuck, man, no! Not every friendship has to be sexual, Ethan, even you know that! And you haven’t earned that privilege, my friend. Acting like you are, I doubt you will. We’re friends, that’s all. She’s–”

  “Yeah, yeah, she’s special, you’ve said.” I mimic his words with a soppy sentimental tone. He throws a dirty beer cloth in my face, but this time it’s a direct hit.

  “Yeah, well, she is and you need to back off,” he warns.

  “Maybe I want to see how special she is?”

  “ And maybe you should stick to what you know, and leave her alone.”

  “What were you talking about?” I repeat, more irritated that this conversation is going nowhere new. Buddy ignores me this time, switches off the lights and heads upstairs to his apartment, leaving me in the darkness to stew on my unanswered question.

  THE NIGHT AIR clings on to the warmth of the day, but I know from experience it doesn’t last. I have many layers on and a sleeping bag, and I make my way to my beach spot. I don’t drink on nights when I’m sleeping in the rough, even though alcohol warms the blood. I don’t like not having all my senses on full alert. It’s only happened a few times, where I have been discovered by some drunk arsehole trying their luck, but if I hadn’t been quick with my reactions, the outcome would not have been so great. But I am quick on my feet, I never tell anyone the specifics on where I am sleeping and I keep pepper spray in my fist. It doesn’t stop an attacker as such, but it slows them down, and like I said, I’m quick on my feet. Buddy keeps what little I have of value in my staff locker–or just my locker, now that I’m no longer employed. Thankfully, he is happy to keep doing that until I can move back into Joan’s.

  The beach is deserted and the alcove of rocks, where I pitch up, keeps me sheltered and hidden. The tide never comes in this far, so the sand is dry and as long as it doesn’t rain, I can rest enough to function the next day. I don’t get into my sleeping bag right away, saving the warmth it affords for a little later, when it’s really needed. I tuck my legs under my chin and sip the hot chocolate Buddy had made for me. The waves are a constant comforting sound; a gentle wash and break, break and wash. The sky is bright with a large new moon and with light pollution, the stars are breathtaking. A bitter laugh escapes me when I recall a happier time. Kings of the past…

  Two Years Ago

  Joan asked me some weeks after I had woken about Cal. We have made tentative roads into a relationship; she is open with me, honest and a little unorthodox. It’s hard, but I think I could learn to trust her.

  “You want to know the details or just the Cliff notes version?” We are sitting on a blanket in the middle of the bowling green lawn of the facility, out of ear shot and away from prying eyes.

  “I think it’s important to get a clear understanding of your relationship. I like to have a thorough understanding of every aspect of a situation before I make a decision.” She looks at me with an impassive expression, but her lips start to curl with a suppressed smile.

  “Oh, my God! You want to know the details don’t you!” I laugh, and she bites her lip but her intention is crystal clear. “You’re not like a normal doctor, are you?” I shake my head, but I mean it as a compliment.

  “I hope not–not when it comes to you at least, but we have unsuccessfully tried several traditional methods, Ada. So I am left skirting the very edges of professionalism. But if it gets you to open up to me and well enough to leave this place sooner, then I will happily blur the lines. In all seriousness you don’t have to tell me anything you are not comfortable with, but it might help me understand why you did what you did. Cal was considerably older than you, and it’s hard to not see him as a predator.” I bark out a laugh.

  “Joan, if anyone was the predator it was me.” We haven’t talked about ‘what I did’ because my vehement description of Cal’s betrayal still sounds like the classic denial of a crazy person. I didn’t steal a child, end of. But I need Joan completely on my side, and from what I do know, Joan has been fed a whole heap of lies.

  “Cal was staying with Heloise’s boyfriend for the summer. His family was living in London, but originally came from Eastern Europe. He was very sketchy on his background and didn’t really like to answer any questions, which was fine with me because I didn’t want to answer any questions about mine either.” I lie flat on the soft summer blanket, and close my eyes. It is easier to picture the events in my mind like this and Joan settles down beside me, quiet in her encouragement for me to tell my story. “We spent all summer together. Every moment he wasn’t working, he was with me, or we were all hanging out together at Helli’s summer house on the family lake. Yes, my friends ‘owned’ lakes; some even owned whole counties. But not Cal he was so different, exotic. He had this dark intensity that unnerved and excited in equal measure. He had smooth caramel coloured skin and dark eyes. When he looked at me, it was like he couldn’t see anyone else but me. It was very seductive; very erotic.

  “We would often talk through the night. Sitting in his car if it was cold, or on warmer nights, we would lay outside snuggled in a blanket staring up at the night sky. He would jerk around, feeding me a cheesy line from the Lion King, when I asked his thoughts on the stars. ’Kings of the past’, he would do the best impression of Mufasa, but other times he would touch my face like he just couldn’t help himself. God, he drove me insane. I would practically dry hump him raw when we fell asleep entwined, I was so horny, but he was the perfect gentleman. I hated him a little bit for keeping me waiting.

  I stayed at Helli’s a lot in that summer, not that my parents would cared. That isn’t a woe is me, neglected child thing, by the way. It’s just how it was and it wasn’t just me; many of my friends lived independent lives from their early teens on.

  Anyway, my sixteenth birthday we were in the beer garden of the village pub, music was playing, and I’d had a little to drink, not much, but I was dancing like no one was watching. Actually, dancing like my father wasn’t watching. He had dreams of his little princess becoming a ballerina, but I started to get some curves at thirteen, and then the boob fairy came and classic dance as a career was out of the window. I knew he would never let me do any other type of dancing, so any routine I had learned was from watching music videos, or with Heli taking the lead. I could slut drop like a Pussy Cat Doll and I loved it. Helli came to join me and shouted in my ear that Cal had been looking at me all night with ‘fuck me’ eyes, she air quoted. I shouted back, ‘So what? That was all he was ever going to do, fuck me with his eyes!’ Helli fell into me in a fit of giggles and when I looked up, Cal was walking toward me. His fierce glare seared me to the spot. He was so fucking hot I couldn’t breathe. He stepped up to me and pulled me hard against his body. His mouth swooped down to cover mine, swallowing any sounds I might have made. My pulse raced and I was burning up from the tips of my toes to the tip of my tongue. The same tongue that now danced eagerly with his. He broke the kiss and I buckled a little at his absence, but he scooped me into his arms and strode off into the night….Seriously, Joan, how fucking hot is that for the start of your ‘first time’, hmm?” I twist my head and laugh, because she just mock fans herself then nods for me to continue.

  “Well, he carried me back to his car and we drove around for a little while until he pulled up at a tiny cottage. He never said a word but took my hand, lead me into the house and up the stairs to the bedroom. I honestly can’t remember a thing about the room, my heart was racing so hard. All I could feel was him.

  “The soft lighting was warm, but I was on fire as he carefully peeled my T-shirt over my head. His fingertips skimmed my tummy, and my skin scorched from the contact. He popped the button on my jeans and dropped to his knees, pulling them down my legs as he went. I stepped out my pumps and pants. He sat back on his haunches and gazed up at me. His long lashes failing to hide his desire. I t
rembled. I mean I was shaking; legs, hands everything, and he looked so calm. He drew his button down shirt over his head and knelt up running his large hands up my thighs. He slipped his fingers under my panties at the back and grabbed a fistful of my arse cheek. Groaning and pulling me flush against his naked chest. I felt alive with lust and need. He inhaled deeply before standing and stripping naked. I was still in my bra and panties, and I remember feeling more exposed because he was confidently naked. He took my hand and placed it on his rock hard erection; the soft strength and heat surprised me and the size worried me. He told me that this feeling–squeezing my hand over his cock–it wasn’t love. I remember my heart breaking a little. He said this hunger, the desire we shared was lust and should never be confused with love. The feeling was merely our bodies telling us we ache with passion and fire, we crave release, and we should never deny this base and natural need. I swallowed the hurt, because I did feel the desire but I also felt so much more. I kept it inside with a deep breath because I wanted him so badly and I didn’t want to give him a reason to stop. Tears from a naïve virgin would probably do that.

  He waited and it felt like an eternity when he moved my hand and placed it on his chest. I could feel the pounding of his heart, a strong staccato beat that mirrored mine. But this he said, the deep timbre of his voice sounded painful, raw. What I feel here can never be confused with lust; this is pure and absolute, this is love. His eyes dipped to mine and a rueful smile crept across his handsome face.

  “Don’t get me wrong he said sex is still fun, but without love it’s just not as much fun. This made me laugh. His words stirred something so deep it scared me, but then he eased the gravity of my feelings and made me smile; he made me laugh and I loved him that little bit more for it.” I draw in a deep breath and a wave of sadness washes over me and I can feel its weight on my chest. My sorrow is interrupted by the gentle touch of Joan’s hand reaching out for mine with perfect timing. Her intuitive comfort squeezes me back to reality. “Do you think I was foolish to fall for him?”