Harlow grabbed an empty box from one of the tables as they both moved for the door. Chloe turned to look at me before they walked out “Hurry her up, would you? She tends to drag her feet when she’s not happy about something.”
My brows drew together. “What’s she not happy about?”
Chloe grinned as Harlow laughed. “You’ll see.”
The gym door shut with a resounding clang, leaving me alone in what looked like the setting from A Nightmare Before Christmas.
I kept checking my watch, waiting for Eliza to come out of the bathroom so I could take her back to the football field, but five minutes had passed and the door to the restroom still hadn’t opened.
Worry began creeping in. What if she’s fallen and hit her head or something? What if the lock on the door was faulty and she was trapped inside. Shit like that happened in older buildings all the time… or so I told myself.
I gave her another two minutes before I made my way over to the door and gave it a firm knock before pushing it open and poking my head through.
“Eliza?”
“Ethan?” Her tone was sharp with surprise. I stepped fully into the bathroom, my sight still blocked by the small wall that cut off the doorway to the rest of the bathroom. “What are you doing in here?”
“Chloe and Harlow headed to the field. I told them I’d wait for you. Got worried it was taking a while. You okay?”
“Uh…” her voice trailed off, causing me to take a step passed the wall only to find the area in front of the sinks empty.
“Where are you?”
There was a long pause, then, “In the first stall.”
I looked down and, sure enough, there were her feet in a pair of god-awful white shoes and little socks with pompoms on the backs. “What’s wrong?”
“Well… my zipper’s kind of stuck.”
The tension in my shoulders drained away. “Come out. Let me help you.”
“No.”
My chuckle bounced off the tile walls all around us. “Eliza, come on. Just let me help. What are you going to do? Stay in here all night?”
“No. I fully intend on waiting you out, then changing back into my other clothes.”
I looked around the space and spotted a gray and teal bag sitting on one of the sinks I hadn’t noticed before. Walking over to it, I discovered it held Eliza’s clothes. “You mean the clothes in this bag out here?”
“Yes,” she answered hesitantly, cautiously. It might have been years, and we might both be different, but she still knew me, whether she’d admit it or not, and her trepidation was completely warranted.
“You mean the bag I’m holding in my hand right now?” I asked, pulling the straps of her bag over my shoulder.
“Ethan,” she said in a warning voice as her hand popped out from under the stall door. “Give me my bag right now.”
A big grin spread across my lips. “Can’t do that, sweetheart. We’re already running late. Now get your cute ass out here and let me help you with that zipper.”
“I hate you.”
“And I’m working to change that. Now open the door. Stop being so damned stubborn.”
“You’re one to talk!” she shouted back with a clipped, bewildered laugh. “You’re practically stalking me, and you’re calling me stubborn?”
“I wouldn’t have to stalk you if you’d forgive me and be my friend again.” And maybe something more, I thought but managed to bite my tongue to keep from saying out loud. I had enough work on my hands already.
Her sigh carried from the stall. She remained silent for several second before finally speaking again, this time much more quietly, her words flaying me wide open. “I wouldn’t have to forgive you if you hadn’t hurt me.”
“Baby,” I choked, moving toward the stall door and resting my forehead against it. “I’m so sorry. If there was a way to take it all back, I would. I swear.”
She didn’t say anything, only sniffled, and the thought that she could possibly be crying was a shot to the chest. “Please open the door, sweetheart. I’m not leaving until you do.”
A few seconds — that felt like a lifetime — later, the lock clicked and the door swung open, and what I saw standing before me, stunned me speechless. “Fine, you win,” she huffed and she propped her hands on her hips in a belligerent stance. Thankfully her eyes were devoid of any tears. “Help me zip this damn thing so we can go.”
“Holy fuck,” I wheezed, my mouth hanging open as my eyes scanned the sheer decadence standing in front of me. “Holy fuck.”
“What? What’s wrong with it?” she asked, fidgeting from foot to foot as she tried in vain to pull the short cheerleader skirt down to a modest length. Seeing all that was Eliza, all those womanly curves and gorgeous legs dressed up as a cheerleaders was the most intoxicating torture. All the blood in my head rushed from straight to my dick, and I had to drop the duffle bag on my arm in order to hide it.
“Do I look okay?” she asked, suddenly sounding uncertain, like she had absolutely no idea just how beautiful she was. Which only made her that much more alluring. But seeing her like that had fried my brain. I couldn’t think, let alone form words. A garbled noise came out of my throat.
“I knew it!” she cried at the strange sound I’d just made. “I look ridiculous! This is all Chloe and Harlow’s fault! I can’t wear this.”
“What in the fresh hell were they thinking?!” I shouted, startling her out of her own tantrum. “You can’t wear that! It’s… it’s… Christ! It’s completely indecent!”
No one but me should have been allowed to see her like that… not that I’d ever say that out loud, well, at least not until we were on more solid footing.
Suddenly the unease melted from her expression, replaced with a menacing glare… aimed right at me. “Oh my God! You’re doing it again!”
“Doing what?”
Her index finger shot out, jabbing right against my breast bone. “Being an overprotective jerk!”
“If trying to keep you from getting arrested for indecent exposure is being an overprotective jerk, then so fucking be it.”
Her head tipped back in a laugh of disbelief. “You’ve always done this! You were always acting like my pain-in-the-ass big brother, telling me I couldn’t wear certain things, go out with certain people—”
I cut her off, feeling the intense need to defend myself. “I only did that twice. And that was because those shorts actually showed ass cheek! You should have been thanking me. If Derrick had seen that, he’d have killed you then had an aneurism. You’re welcome. And as for telling you who you could see, you know as well as I do that Jason McKinney was a tool. If I had let you go out with him that night, you’d have been arrested right along with him. Again… you’re welcome.”
Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly as she attempted (and failed) to come up with a solid argument. She knew I was right.
“Well… whatever.”
“You’re not wearing that,” I commanded. If I’d have been in my right mind, I would have seen that I’d just made my first mistake.
“Like hell I’m not! You can’t treat me like your little sister. I’m a grown woman and can do whatever the hell I want!”
Oh, if only she knew my actions had absolutely nothing to do with viewing her as a little sister, and everything to do with insane jealousy at just the thought of another man seeing her like that.
“Now zip me up, and let’s go.”
“No,” I answered authoritatively, crossing my arms over my chest. That was my second mistake.
“No?” she asked in a frighteningly low voice.
“That’s right. No. You can’t go out there in that. You’ll… catch pneumonia.” Oh, for fuck’s sake. Third and final mistake.
“Ethan Prewitt,” she growled, taking a step close to me, her face twisted into a scowl so scary I was forced to take a step back. “You zip this skirt up right now, or so help me God, I’ll walk out of this gym with it hanging wide open for all of Pembroo
ke to see. And don’t for one second think I won’t do it. Remember what happened last time you called my bluff?”
My mind scanned back to when she was sixteen years old. I’d been home from college one weekend and Eliza had asked me to take her to a party some of the kids were having out by the lake. Being the responsible adult I was, and not wanting her to get shit-faced and possibly drown that night, I’d refused. She threw a typical teenage tantrum, going on about having to grow up too soon and how she wanted to just be a normal teenager for one night. I didn’t cave, even when she threatened to steal her dad’s keys and drive there herself.
I called that particular bluff, never once thinking she’d actually do it, seeing as her dad was a cop and she was such a horrible driver she’d failed Driver’s Ed once already. I’d been very, very wrong. That night ended with Derrick’s truck in a ditch as he shouted until he was red in the face while Chloe and I stood along the shoulder, watching the tow truck driver pull the truck out of mud up to the top of the wheel wells. Only plus side to that night was the fact that she’d run off the road before making it to that party. God only knew how much worse it could have been had alcohol been involved.
So I knew she’d do it, just to spite me. If I’d have just kept my fucking mouth shut, she probably would have changed back into her regular clothes and we’d have never had to have the conversation in the first goddamned place. Me and my big fucking mouth.
“Turn around,” I ground out, the muscle in my jaw ticking.
She did just that, but not before gracing me with a triumphant, incredibly smug grin. But that wasn’t what made every muscle in my body lock up. Oh no, that was all thanks to the pale pink, lacy thong that showed through the opening of the zipper.
As if my erection wasn’t already bad enough, at the miniscule sight of that lace and that tanned, soft looking flesh, my cock actually began to twitch. Sliding the duffle up my arm to free my hand, I gave the zipper a couple of firm tugs, finally unsticking it and getting the skirt closed. But the image was already burned into my brain.
“Thank you,” she said in a chipper voice now that she’d gotten her way. “Let’s go. They’re probably wondering what’s taking us so long.”
With that, she waltzed from the bathroom, leaving me to follow as I clutched her bag in front of my pants, praying my hard on would disappear before I came face to face with her father.
Fuck my life.
Eliza
SHIT.
I was cold. Not that I’d ever admit it out loud, but I could at least admit to myself that I might not have given much thought to the temperature outside when I stormed out of the gym in an effort to stick it to Ethan.
I had the oddest sensation of feeling his eyes on me as he walked a few steps behind all the way to the stadium and up the bleachers. To my bewilderment, he even took my hand as we made our assent. When I cast a questioning look over my shoulder, he simply shrugged and muttered something about wanting to be able to catch me if I tripped.
That, coupled with the chill in the air, caused a tremor to course through me as we moved through the crowd of people to our seats that were being held by both of our families. Ethan, being who he was — the hometown superstar — was stopped constantly to say hello to people he’d known growing up, or to sign the random autograph. I did my best to keep moving every time he was stopped, but the fingers wrapped around mine would tighten, making it impossible to escape. He signed everything one handed, refusing to release my hand until we made it to our spots.
“What the hell are you wearing?” My father demanded once we hit our destination. “Jesus, baby girl. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
I rolled my eyes, along with Harlow and Chloe as Ethan muttered, “Told you,” from behind me, earning an elbow to the ribs. The big brother act had gotten old when we were younger, but having him slide back into that role now that we were in adulthood was even more irritating.
“I think she looks pretty!” Abbi declared from the bleachers directly in front of us where she sat with Cate, Lucy, and Evan. It was safe to say I loved my little sister at that very moment.
“Thank you, honey,” I smiled.
“She looks naked is what she looks like,” Dad grumbled just before Chloe reached up and smacked him in the back of the head. “What?” he asked, looking at her, trying his best to appear innocent. “Can’t a father worry about his daughter’s wellbeing? I mean she’s liable to catch pneumonia wearing that ridiculous costume.”
Ethan leaned around me to tell my father, “That’s exactly what I said.”
I put my palm to his face and shoved him back before turning back to my dad. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with my costume,” I snapped, my hands on my hips as I shot lasers his way.
“It’s short,” he replied.
“It’s fine,” I gritted back.
“I can see too much of your legs.”
“I wanna be a cheerleader next year!” Cate shouted.
“Over my dead fucking body,” Dad responded, giving Chloe no choice but to hit him in the back of the head again.
“Derrick! Language!”
Knowing there was no way he’d win, not with Chloe and Harlow on my side, he grumbled unintelligible words under his breath and turned his gaze back toward the field, pouting the entire time.
I moved to take my seat on the cold metal bleacher between Harlow and Ethan when someone called my name.
“Eliza?”
My head turned to the left and I smiled when I spotted the person who’d just called out. “Hey Kevin.”
Kevin Vincent had been in my grade all through school. We’d never really been friends, more like casual acquaintances since he was always chronically awkward and shy growing up. He went off to college after graduating and had only recently come back. I remembered thinking that becoming an adult had worked a miracle for him. Gone was the shy teenager that I’d known for years, and in his place was an extremely attractive man. One of the things that made Kevin even more attractive to all the women in Pembrooke was the fact that he hadn’t shed the mentality that he’d had all his life. So on top of his good looks, he was very humble and sensitive.
And that worked wonders for him from what I’d heard through the Pembrooke grapevine.
“Wow,” he returned my grin, a hank of his brown hair falling forward across his forehead, “I love your costume. You look great.”
I chose to ignore my dad when I heard him mutter, “Should have brought my goddamned gun,” under his breath.
“Thank you.” I looked at Ethan to find him glaring daggers in Kevin’s direction. “Scoot down,” I told him, pulling his attention to me where I was still standing.
“What? Why?”
“So I can talk to Kevin without having to lean over you.”
His brow furrowed with an intense frown. “But this is my seat.”
My head fell back on a groan at his overprotectiveness. “For the love of God. Just move down! It’s not that big of a deal.”
After a few seconds, Ethan finally moved, albeit reluctantly, putting me between him and Kevin.
I sat, ignoring the cold metal penetrating my (only slightly too short) skirt and took in his red and white striped shirt and cap, and his black framed glasses and asked, “Where’s Waldo?” with a little laugh. “I like it.”
“Thanks.” His cheeks flushed just a bit as he looked down.
“He looks like a douche,” Ethan muttered only loud enough for me and Harlow to hear. I cut a seething look at him over my shoulder before turning back to Kevin with a grin, determined to put Ethan, his overbearing ways, and his too good looks out of my mind while I had a friendly conversation with someone I’d known for years.
“So you like football?”
“Not really,” he chuckled. “I’m just here to support the school. Never really was into sports all that much. I was more about studying than athletics, if you’ll remember.”
I gave him a smile that promptly turned to
grinding teeth when I heard Ethan’s quiet chuckle, followed by an equally quiet, “Are you fucking kidding me with this guy?”
“Well that’s nice of you,” I told him even though it was becoming more and more difficult to ignore the man sitting on my right. As if his behavior wasn’t bad enough, the damn man insisted on sitting pressed right up against my side. Only good thing about his invasion of my personal space was that he was warming that side of my body. However, the other half was so cold I was beginning to worry I’d lose feeling in it.
Kevin and I talked more throughout the first two quarters of the game. I’d occasionally get pulled away by the action taking place on the field and lose myself jumping up and down, cheering along with my family and friends for our team whenever they made a touchdown or interception, but to his credit, Kevin just smiled indulgently. It was after our second interception that I sat back down and noticed the appreciative look on his face as he eyed my legs beneath my skirt.
There were no butterflies in my stomach, no sparks when I looked at Kevin, not like the ones I felt whenever Ethan brushed against me, or leaned over to whisper about a play that just happened in my ear, or even when he pulled me into a hug after a particularly awesome touchdown, but he was a nice enough guy so I didn’t want to draw attention to it and risk embarrassing him.
I shivered and turned my eyes back to the field, wrapping my arms around me and rubbing my arms in order to create heat.
“You cold?” Ethan asked, his warm breath skimming across my ear, causing me to shiver again, only this time for a much different reason.
“I’m fine,” I lied, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of being right. The brotherly antics were wearing on my very last nerve.
His face was still unnecessarily close as he chuckled. “Liar.”
Just then, Kevin chimed in, “If you’re cold, I could get you some hot chocolate from the vendor stand.”
“Oh.” His offer was unexpected but totally welcome, seeing as my insides were beginning to frost. “That would be great. Thank you so much.”
“No problem.” He stood and gave me another of those shy smiles. “I’ll be right back.”
Coming Full Circle (the Pembrooke series Book 2) Page 10
