Swept Away 2

by J. Haymore

  We both turn to movement coming from the direction of the companionway, and Kyle’s hands squeeze tighter around mine.

  Ethan descends the three steps that lead into the galley/dining area. At the bottom, he stops, raising his head to look straight at us. His gaze dips to our clasped hands, then moves to my face. His brows instantly furrow, and he takes a menacing step forward, his movement sure even with the waves tossing the floor of the boat beneath his feet.

  “What’s wrong?” he growls.

  Words fail me for a second. Dealing with Ethan right now seems impossible after the revelations Kyle just flung at me. I swallow hard.

  “Nothing.” Which is such a lie.

  He sees it right away, and his face grows darker, his eyes narrowing and his lips thinning as his gaze cuts back and forth between Kyle and me. “What happened?”

  “It’s okay,” I say. “We just—”

  Ethan grips Kyle’s shoulder and yanks him back from me. Kyle turns to face him, but one of his hands remains stubbornly clasped to mine as he turns to Ethan.

  “She’s upset,” Ethan growls. “What did you say to her?”

  The edge of Kyle’s lip rises in an ugly sneer. His hand squeezes my fingers. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  A muscle twitches in Ethan’s jaw. Whenever he’s angry or upset, this happens. It’s as if he’s grinding his teeth so hard, his muscles engage. “You should be up there on watch,” he says tightly.

  “But I’m not,” Kyle retorts in a so-what-are-you-going-to-do-about-it? tone. It reminds me of how he used to talk to his parents when they’d ask him why he went surfing instead of writing his English paper.

  “Kyle,” I say desperately, “he’s right. You should be on your watch. It’s storming out there, and Nalani—”

  Kyle interrupts me. “Why don’t you tell her?”

  The question is directed at Ethan, and I have no idea what he’s talking about.

  Something passes through Ethan’s blue eyes, widening them, and they flash brightly for the briefest of seconds. But then his features smooth out, and he says, “Tell her what?” in the coldest voice I’ve ever heard from him.

  “What, exactly, you want from her. What you’re going to take from her. What you’re going to do to her.”

  “That’s none of your damn business.” There is a lethal quality to Ethan’s tone that sends a trickle of dread over my ribs.

  Kyle releases a bitter laugh. His fingers keep their tight grip on mine. “Everything about her is my business, asshole. If you don’t know that by now, you’re more of an idiot than I thought.”

  Ethan just stares at him, his expression flat.

  “No? You’re not going to tell her?” Kyle asks. “Fine, then I will.” He turns back to me, still not releasing my hand. It’s like he needs to be holding on to me, needs that connection between the two of us. I don’t have it in me to pull away. I’ve always needed Kyle more than he’s needed me, but now…

  “This asshole wants to fuck you for the next few days. He wants to get his fill of you, then, when we get back to LA, he wants to pretend like he never knew you.”

  My lips part in surprise—that is far, far too close to the truth.

  “He’s going to use you, T. Do you understand? Like you don’t matter. Like it’s okay to treat you like you’re just some thirsty little slut.”

  Primal rage contorts Ethan’s face. He shoves Kyle away from me. Kyle’s hand tears out of mine as he stumbles backward.

  To hell with this. Instinct takes over, and I push myself between the two of them and face Ethan’s raised fists. The Temptation moves resolutely ahead, but the wind howls through the rigging, and the boat pitches beneath my feet. I widen my stance to keep my balance and stare Ethan down.

  “Stop!”

  Kyle scrambles to his feet behind me, but I hold out my hands to prevent him from retaliating while I glare at Ethan.

  Ethan lowers his fists until his arms hang at his sides, but his hands are squeezed into tight balls. His skin is wet and pale, and exhaustion seems to pull on his features, his eyes muting to a stormy gray and the pink of his lips growing a shade lighter.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I growl.

  His eyes have thinned to slits, but he sounds eerily calm when he says, “If you think I’m ever going to allow someone to call you a slut, Tara, then you’re sorely mistaken.”

  “I wasn’t calling her a slut,” Kyle spits out behind me. “You’re treating her like one.”

  “Fuck you,” Ethan says flatly. Then he focuses on me and asks in a gentler tone, “Are you okay?”

  I just gape at him, blinking.

  Kyle bristles behind me and presses a hand to my shoulder. “Move over.”

  “Why?” I demand without looking back at him. “So the two of you can prove your manliness by trying to kill each other?”

  “Yeah,” Kyle says, and he’s not trying to make a joke.

  One of Ethan’s masks snaps on, and he’s suddenly perfectly calm, perfectly composed. The only emotion on his face is concern as his eyes drink me in as if to ensure I’ve come to no harm.

  As frustrated as I am with Kyle right now, I’m pissed at Ethan for taking it to the next level.

  “I need to talk to Ethan, Kyle. And you need to talk to Nalani,” I say pointedly.

  Kyle makes a scoffing noise behind me. “Hell, no. I’m not leaving you alone with this ass—”

  I whirl on him. “Stop this! Just stop, okay?”

  “I can’t stop it!” he snaps back at me. “Do you think it’s that goddamn easy?”

  “I don’t know! But it has to stop!”

  “This isn’t over, Tara.”

  “Fine!” At this moment, I don’t care about that warning—I just want him to be out of here, now. “Just go.”

  He looks past me at Ethan, then back down to me, and some softness infuses his expression as his gaze caresses my face. There’s also lingering hope there. Pleading. “I can’t,” he says. “I can’t go and leave you with him. I just…can’t.”

  Oh God! If I wasn’t on this boat, I’d grab Ethan’s hand and say let’s get out of here, and turn my back on Kyle until he decides to be rational again. But there’s no getting away from Kyle, not right now.

  “You’re not my mother,” I tell him, but the words lack the punch I meant to give them.

  He snorts. “No. I’m not. That doesn’t mean I have any inclination to leave you alone so this…so he can maul you.”

  I raise a brow. Maul? He’s got to be kidding me.

  Fatigue seeps into my bones until they’re rubbery. A sick feeling twists in my stomach. Could be seasickness, could be Kyle’s revelation tonight. All I know is that I need to get away from him. From both of them.

  “Nalani shouldn’t be out there alone,” I say. She shouldn’t be out there at all—she should be in bed for the next couple of hours until her watch starts. It’s storming out, and these two crazy men are the ones who should be on watch.

  Neither of them says anything. They just stare at each other, neither one willing to back down, neither one willing to leave me alone with the other.

  I throw up my hand in frustration. “I’m going to bed.”

  I turn my back on them and slip out of the galley, down the port-side stairs, and into my cabin. I close the door firmly behind me before sagging against it.

  Kyle loves me.

  Kyle is in love with me.

  What am I going to do?

  Chapter Twelve

  I lie awake for most of the night, and as the hours pass, the gale gradually weakens until a crisp breeze fills the sails of the Temptation and sends it slicing through the large, smooth rollers.

  Sometime after midnight, there’s a soft knock at my door. I turn over, intending to ignore it, and cover my head with my pillow, but then I hear his low voice. “Tara?”

  It’s Ethan.

  I hesitate for a moment but ultimately can’t ignore him. “Come in,” I say on a
heavy sigh.

  At least he knocked first. Kyle wouldn’t have been so polite.

  He enters and turns on one of the lights near the door before sitting on the edge of my bed. Curled on my side, I stare at him as he gazes down at me. His exhaustion from earlier seems deeper now. Darker. Like someone took a piece of charcoal and smudged it under his eyes and across his jaw before taking a pencil and digging a trench between his brows with it.

  “You okay?” he asks quietly.

  “Yes.” No. “Is your watch over?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s late, then.” His watch ends at three a.m.

  “Or early.” He gives me the ghost of a smile.

  I don’t answer.

  “You want to tell me what happened between you and Kyle earlier?” he asks softly. He reaches out and captures a lock of my hair, then twines the loose curl over his index finger.

  “You want to tell me why you pushed him?” I ask.

  “You know why.”

  I sigh. “You thought you were going to defend my honor. Is that it?”

  “I was going to defend you. The way he was talking about you…about us… The things he said…” He releases my hair and looks away, toward the cabin door.

  “It scared me,” I say quietly.

  His laugh is little more than a puff of air. “You weren’t acting scared.”

  “You know I’m always going to protect Kyle. No matter what happens between us or with him—I’ll always have his back. I owe him that, and more.”

  He’s quiet for a long moment. Then he nods. “I get it.”

  “But you did scare me. What he said—it was him reacting…to…to what’s going on between you and me.” I swallow, then add, “You got violent. That wasn’t necessary.”

  “I don’t make a habit of shoving people around. I just…” He shrugs. “I snapped. I was so fucking pissed at him in that moment. I don’t know if I could have stopped it if I’d tried. But I didn’t even want to try.” He sounds as bemused as I am about it. “I still don’t.”

  We sit in silence for a long moment as I wonder why his words give me a secret thrill. What the hell? I should be at least a little troubled that he was about to get violent with Kyle. But…I’m just not. A part of me is smitten, not in spite of him shoving Kyle, but because he shoved Kyle.

  I am so messed up.

  “What did he say to you that got you both so upset?” he asks quietly.

  “He didn’t tell you?” My voice is guarded.

  “No. We didn’t speak at all for the rest of my watch.”

  I wonder how much to tell him. Kyle’s revelations were private—between him and me. No matter what’s happened, he’s still my friend, and I’m not going to betray his trust by telling Ethan or anyone what was said. But I don’t want to lie to Ethan either.

  Better to stick to what’s safe. What Ethan already knows. “Just…Kyle is…he’s…” I look at Ethan helplessly and shrug. “He’s just confused.”

  “About Nalani?”

  “Yes. About Nalani. About…everything.”

  Ethan narrows his eyes at me. “Tell me the truth.”

  “I am telling you the truth.”

  “All of it,” he commands. When I don’t say anything, he sighs. “It’s about us, isn’t it?”

  I nod, feeling a little sick.

  “What, exactly, does he know about our relationship?”

  I inhale shakily. “Too much.”

  “You told him about our arrangement?”

  My eyes go wide, and I scramble up to a seated position, facing him on the bed. “No. Of course not. I wouldn’t do that—that’s nobody’s business but ours.”

  “It seems like he knew. The way he said I’d abandon you in LA…” Ethan winces.

  “He was just guessing,” I assure him. “But…” My teeth run over my lower lip.

  “But what?”

  “He saw us. Together.”

  “When?” His question is sharp and hard.

  “Night before last.”

  “Shit,” Ethan spits out.

  I grab my pillow and hug it tight against my chest. “You were right about worrying that people would come out there,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” He closes his eyes and then opens them again, and when he does, his expression has softened. “I loved every minute, Tara. I’ll never regret it.”

  “I loved every minute too,” I say breathlessly. “But knowing he was…he was watching us. It just ruins it.”

  “He’s jealous.”

  “Ahhhh…I don’t know why he’d be jealous,” I hedge. And is that the right word for what Kyle’s feeling right now? I honestly don’t know.

  “Because he’s in love with you.”

  The words hit me like a slap. “Oh God,” I whisper. Is this some kind of warped nightmare? “How did… Did he tell you that?”

  Ethan gives a short, harsh laugh. “No. But I know he is.”

  “No,” I groan, all about denial because I can’t face this right now. “Kyle is confused. He isn’t in love with me. He just—”

  “He’s been in love with you for a while.” His eyes flicker away from me, back to my cabin door again. “At least since that first day I saw the two of you together. Nalani has sensed it too. She’s having a big problem with it.”

  My jaw drops. If he knew, if Nalani knew, how could I have missed this for so long? What were the signs? Am I really this naïve?

  Yes. I’m clearly ridiculously sheltered and incredibly naïve. Otherwise, I would have realized my best friend’s fallen in love with me at some point in the past year and a half. I would have somehow seen it—done something about it before it reached this point.

  Ethan heaves in a breath, and when he looks at me again, the ring of blue around his eyes is black in the dim light of the cabin. His spine has straightened, and his shoulders go square.

  “Is there any chance that you might reciprocate his feelings?” He means the question to be emotionless, but there’s a sharp edge to it, a razor blade of feeling he’s trying to hide.

  His expression is also calm, also emotionless, but his gaze is so direct, so intense, it’s as if he’s peeling me open like an orange, determined to see if the fruit inside is sweet or sour.

  I shake my head and tell him the truth. “No. He’s my friend. My close friend.”

  “You know each other well.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re very physical with each other.”

  “Are we?” I try to act unaffected by his observation, but then it hits me. Oh God, he’s right. Kyle and I are more physical with each other than normal friends. We’re more physical than brothers and sisters. We hug and we lean on each other, and sometimes, when we’re watching a movie at home, we lie pressed against each other under a comfortable blanket. But it’s never, ever been sexual.

  Not for me, at least.

  Was I unwittingly giving him hints that it was? Did all that comfortable closeness translate to me leading him on?

  “Yes, Tara. The two of you are very physical.”

  “I…” I push out a breath through my closed lips. “Yes. But it wasn’t that kind of physical.”

  “But you could fall in love with him.” Ethan’s words come out tight and biting. The force of his stare prickles under my skin. “It could happen.”

  All this sudden emotional intensity must have something to do with him being jealous of Kyle, like Kyle seems to be jealous of him. I’m considering this when he throws my assumption out the window by saying, “You should.”

  “Should what?”

  “Love him.” Ethan is dead serious, but his words don’t compute. They don’t make any sense.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He would be good for you. He’ll protect you. He loves you.”

  He doesn’t say it flat out, but his words imply it. I won’t protect you. I don’t love you.

  “What about you?” I whisper.

 
He shrugs, but it’s not the casual movement I think he intended it to be—it’s a tense, tight raising and lowering of his shoulders.

  “I can’t,” he says through flat, white lips. “I told you before—I can’t—won’t—do long-term relationships. And you deserve one. You deserve someone who can love you in the way you should be loved. Someone who—”

  He breaks off suddenly. Something flickers in his eyes as if he’s lying, or as if he’s cut himself off from telling me something he doesn’t want me to know. If we were in a poker game, I’d call his bluff and go all in.

  But maybe he isn’t lying. He’s probably being completely honest with me, again, and I’m reading something that I want to be there but just isn’t.

  “I can’t give any of that to you,” he says quietly. “It’s impossible.”

  The hurt that slams into me feels like it’s crushing my windpipe. I wrap my arms around my knees and stare at the opposite wall of my cabin, trying to find my breath. He touches my shoulder, and as much as I don’t want him to see the emotions that must be written all over my face, I turn back to him anyway. I’m evidently incapable of telling my body not to react to Ethan’s touch.

  When he sees my expression, his softens. His voice gentles. “Tara…”

  The tears I hold at bay blur my vision.

  “I want to be all these things to you,” he murmurs. “But as much as I want to, I’ve told you I can’t. He can, though. Kyle can be everything to you.”

  “No,” I rasp out.

  “Yes. He loves you.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s…he’s…he’s not you. You’re the one I can’t stop thinking about. You’re the one I want…the one I need—”

  Ethan rears back, a stunned expression on his face. It’s like I’ve slapped him. Slowly, he shakes his head at me. “Don’t,” he whispers.

  “Don’t what? Don’t fall for you? It’s too late—you know, you know I already have.”

  “It can’t last.”

  My teeth gnash together, hard. I am so tired of hearing him say that. “I know.”