Thick & Thin (Thin Love Book 3)

by Eden Butler

  It had taken Ethan weeks to stop asking questions and when the novelty of my connection to the Riley-Hale family wore off, he’d relaxed.

  Now I felt that small claustrophobic tension inching back in, as though my actions were up for judgment and it made me feel awkward and defensive. “I don’t know why you can’t let this go.”

  “Maybe because you can’t. I’m trying to see what the appeal is.” He pulled my hand back between his fingers when I tried moving back. “Please enlighten me.”

  If he wanted answers, I’d give them. But I wouldn’t sooth his ego if it got bruised. “I got lost in the shuffle and I’m not a shuffle kind of girl.”

  “No.” That grip on my fingers tightened. “You damn well aren’t.”

  “I also didn’t like who they wanted me to be.”

  “They?”

  The thought of those days in Miami exhausted me. Ethan’s gaze didn’t stop as I moved around the studio, sliding down the mirrored wall as I grabbed the bottle of water from my bag. “The media, the players’ wives and girlfriends. I was expected to socialize with them and they weren’t exactly the kind of people I’d be friendly with on purpose.” They were cruel, catty and reminded me of the judgments that came my way inside my father’s oppressive home. I was never good enough, smart enough, pretty enough.

  Shaking away the memory, I took a swig from the bottle and blinked back at Ethan when he sat across from me, his arms linked around his knees.

  “Ransom didn’t see what the big deal was, he said he didn’t care if I humored them or not, but I didn’t want to cause any ripples and those women were the ripple type. They aren’t happy with you, their husbands will hear about it, then Ransom would have heard about it.”

  He grabbed the bottle of water from me, taking a tentative sip. “And he knew about all this?”

  “He told me to steer clear of them. I did, eventually, but I knew it wouldn’t last. I knew, no matter what I did, no matter how much we loved each other, his team, his game came first.” I massaged my neck, remembering how hard Ransom had trained and the pressure he put upon himself. I’d worked hard, hustling to graduate with him, hustling harder for dancing or choreography gigs in Miami just to pass the time when Ransom was on the road or at practice. But Ransom’s hustle was harder, stronger and I knew why. “He had this weird idea in his head about proving himself. He wanted to be better than Kona or at least just as good.”

  Ethan moved his head to the side, squinting as though he couldn’t quite process that kind of pressure. “And that got in the way of his relationship with you?”

  He was skirting close to lines I didn’t want crossed, digging too deep for four a.m. “Our relationship distracted him from him being better. He never said that, but I felt it. Ransom would never hurt a soul on purpose.” Ethan wanted me to be honest, so I would be. “At his core, he is genuinely good. He…years ago, when he was a kid, his first love, Emily, she was killed in a boating accident. When I met him he was still struggling with the guilt he felt. It changed him. He punished himself so severely…” I wouldn’t elaborate. I cared about Ethan, but Ransom’s demons were his own and when I stopped speaking, Ethan leaned back, as though he’d wait forever for me to continue. I wouldn’t. Not about that. “Let’s just say Ransom more so than anyone I’ve ever known, would never hurt anyone on purpose. He’s just too much of a nice guy for that. Somewhere along the way, things got overlooked; I got overlooked. I had no outlets there that were mine. Everything was about him and his team. I’d choreograph camps, volunteer at the Y, but it wasn’t like being here, being in the dance community here, in a studio that felt like home. I had nothing for myself in Miami. It just ended up being me that got forgotten. It wasn’t on purpose.”

  “But you let it lie.”

  “I guess I did, but it wasn’t just being second that made me leave. It was the injuries, there were so many. It got to the point that I just couldn’t watch him play anymore. He’d get hurt, with concussions especially, and he was less like himself than he was before. I gave him an ultimatum: retire early or I leave. He didn’t think I was serious.”

  “But you were.”

  “Very. Still, I wasn’t out of his life completely. Not with…well, he and his family had given me so much. I…” I couldn’t quite look at him then. “I loved them. All of them. I still do.”

  “They’re your family.”

  He was right. There was no accusation in his tone; he’d spoken that sentence with sincerity and kindness. They were my family and I did love them. No one would ever change that and I was happy that Ethan realized that too. “They’re the only family I’ve ever known. So you see how all of this…”

  He nodded, sliding closer to me as though he just wanted to be next to me, like just sharing the same space was all he needed. I didn’t understand why he needed that from me, until I realized that he, too, knew what it was like to have a family that had been broken. Ethan leaned forward, elbows back on his knees but his back was straight, his expression sweet. “And you saying yes to me muddles things up.”

  “Things were muddled before.” He didn’t try to comfort me when I rested my head against the mirror or when I pressed on my temples trying to ease the headache that had started. “Ransom never quite let me go. He has this idea that eventually we’ll come back together.”

  “Is he right?”

  I opened my eyes, catching the shift in Ethan’s expression, trying to read that impasse set of his mouth and couldn’t decipher what it meant exactly. But I didn’t elaborate, didn’t do much more than stare at the long divots in the worn wood floor. So many grooves made by the feet of little girls, learning, dreaming, dancing. “No,” I finally said, knowing that Ethan heard the doubt in my voice. “What Ransom wants, what his family wants, I can’t…well. Some things aren’t going to happen. No matter how much you want it.”

  I let Ethan pull me close, didn’t fuss or fight him when he kissed my face, letting his palm rest against the side of my face. “He needed you behind him. Baby, I’d never expect you to stand behind me. I want you at my side.”

  “You say that now…”

  “I mean it. Now. Tomorrow, I damn well mean it.”

  For some reason I believed him. It was in that soft smile and the quite passion smoldering in his eyes. Ethan would never expect me to have his back. That’s not what a partner does. Equal partners flank, they don’t support. That realization and the promise I saw in his eyes gave me pause and the smallest amount of hope that I could walk away from the past; that if I made a real effort, I could be happy with Ethan.

  He kissed me then, nothing dramatic or out of control like the earlier kiss. Just his soft, slightly swollen lips against mine and the smallest brush of his tongue touching mine. It was nice, easy. Sweet.

  Maybe we would have gone on like that with Ethan dissolving the guilt that had chased me from his bed with kisses that were gentle and promises I could almost believe, but then my phone at my side vibrated and the moment got fractured in my urgency to check my messages. I was a hypocrite. How often had Ransom made me angry for doing the same thing to me? How many apologies would I have to make before I stopped sounding like him.

  I tried not to look at the message, but my eyes caught his name, then the swift, sweet message wishing me a good morning and I couldn’t keep a smile from ghosting across my mouth. Ethan caught both, but he didn’t get angry. He didn’t ask me to ignore Ransom’s message or to remember whose ring I wore.

  Instead, Ethan kissed my forehead and stood, walking toward the door. “I’m going to get some work done in my office.” And the door slipped closed before I could stop him, before my weak apology left my mouth.

  Would this be our lives if we did marry? Would that flame Ransom carried for me burn so brightly, so hot that Ethan would get burned? Could a marriage survive a past that wouldn’t let go? A voice sounded deep inside of me, a warning I didn’t need to hear, something biting and cruel.

  No, Aly. It can’t.
<
br />   Today, I sold my heart.

  The price was paltry.

  It cost me everything.

  Five

  When I ran, my world drifted. It went from me with each grunt and pull of my body doing what it knows and handles automatically. Exerting with the climb of the hilly pavement and the thunder of loud music in my ears—strong bass lines and profane words that somehow distracted me enough that I didn’t tire myself out too quickly.

  Every slap of my trainers against the dark road beneath me was a rhythm my body set and marched right along with my ragged panting. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth as Weezy or Ice Cube or whoever else that filled up my Old School play list shouted, rapped or sang into my ears. More white nose that kept me from my thoughts or the exhaustion I knew I was headed for, that I willingly embraced. And just as I thought my world would drift away completely, just as my focus shifted to all those random thoughts, straight to nothing but that beautiful white noise, it came back to me.

  My world.

  Into focus.

  Sitting on top of her car hood waiting for me.

  Blinking didn’t help. It didn’t make that image fade away. But it also didn’t explain how Aly could be there waiting in front of my parent’s house with that soft, curly hair that reminded me of sunset over the lake, the golden brightness of the sun slipping into the murky dark clouds, cascading around her face. The closer I moved toward her, the sharper she came into focus.

  Her wild, green-eyed gaze moved from my face, went down my body, over my slick chest where my gray tee had become soaked with sweat. Then my imagination got the better of me. I half convinced myself that the look on her face transformed right in front of me. She’d worn it so many times when she had looked at me, wanting me—lids heavy with the weight of the craving I could read so clearly. I kept the grin from my mouth, shelved the pride buzzing in my chest because even if it was there, it would not last. She would toss that look from her features like a dropped penny. But before she did I imagined what it could mean. If she were free, if she wanted me still, would she take those long, thin fingers to pull my face to hers? Would she let me pick her up, uncaring about the sweat on my body or how it would wreck the crisp, white jeans she wore, how my big, clumsy hands would muss that thin, draping sleeveless shirt so that I ripped it from her supple body?

  Would she let me tell her how much I loved her? Would she believe me if I made promises I swear this time I’d keep? Would she say yes if I asked her just one more time to be mine?

  A dip of my gaze to her hand and I let the fantasy go, forcing a grin as I pulled the ear buds from my ears and stopped five feet from her, not wanting to see if there had been any change in her eyes. If there was, it was gone before I was in front of her. Yet even as Aly’s attention slipped from my body, the weight of her gaze, how I could almost feel the smooth whisper of her touch with that one look, still chilled my skin.

  “Hey.” I got a nod from her in response, and after I’d clumsily tangled my phone around my ear buds and finally gripped the whole mess in my hand, I managed a glance at her, not surprised when she stood straight with her arms crossed in front of her chest. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  Something moved between us that I didn’t recognize. My gut told me to hug her, kiss her in greeting, but I couldn’t be sure how she’d react if I did. This engagement made me feel out of my element, like I wasn’t sure how to act around her anymore.

  I fucking hated that.

  “I know we had plans for lunch this afternoon, but I had to go to Baton Rouge this morning, and now I have some other errands to run,” she said, fighting a grin.

  I smiled, stepping right up to her without thinking when her impassive expression turned quickly into amusement then, seconds later, pure joy. I knew what was in Baton Rouge and I knew why that place would make her smile. “You finally got the second location?” She looked beautiful grinning like that, dimples denting deep.

  A quick nod and Aly’s smile went even wider. “Bringing the papers to my lawyer when I leave here.”

  “Nani, that’s great.” I couldn’t help myself, bent down and kissed her cheek, stepping back before I did something stupid.

  “Thanks,” she said shrugging like this success wasn’t a big deal. I knew better. She’d wanted to branch out for a solid year but the studio’s owners were dragging their feet, unsure if someone so young could handle their large school.

  “Really, that’s amazing…” Watching that smile, seeing the pride that warmed her skin made me itch to be close to her again. Another kiss? A quick hug that would linger? But she didn’t want that. Not from me. Besides, touching her wouldn’t be enough. The awkwardness rose between us and I nodded, wiping the sweat from my neck, hating that we seemed so distant, so shy with each other despite her good news. Aly adjusted on her foot, keys rustling in her hands and I decided to break the awkwardness with kindness. “You…you didn’t have to drive all the way out here to tell me about missing lunch.”

  “I know, shoushou, but you were on the way back and I…” When I frowned, stared off down the road, across the neighborhood away from her attention, Aly tilted her head, as though she wondered why I hadn’t liked her using that endearment. “I…guess I wanted to tell you the good news.”

  My chest tightened a little when she said that. “Yeah…I mean. That’s good. That’s…” There had been so many times I’d said the same thing to her; my accomplishments were great, they made me feel like I hadn’t wasted years running and tackling and each time I ticked off another goal from my list, Aly was the first person I wanted to tell about it.

  It hit me, just then, that this was the first time since getting into college that Aly had the chance to share really good news with me. Blinking, I forced another smile at her, disgusted with myself, with the reality of how often she’d been pushed aside in my climb to success.

  “Come on,” I told her, wanting a distraction to pull my thoughts back toward Aly and away from my knuckleheadedness. “I’ll fix you a celebratory coffee.” She started to shake her head and I flashed a grin at her. “Mom picked up dark roast this morning.”

  That got her, I knew it would. “Well I can’t turn that down, now can I?”

  She followed as I jogged up the walk toward the lake house. The cold air from the AC chilled my wet skin and, without thinking, I stripped off my shirt as soon as we cleared the foyer. It was old habit, me not thinking that maybe she was uncomfortable with me being half naked, but as I moved into the kitchen and turned on the coffee pot, I caught Aly’s distracted expression as she looked around the room, seeming unbothered by me or my naked chest.

  “So when will you be able to set up the school?”

  She was animated, beautiful when she used her hands, laughing at how fast she spoke, giving me details I’d never remember. Watching her, listening to her talk about her plans, her hopes for the new school reminded me how long it had been since I’d seen her lit up like a Christmas tree. Like she couldn’t contain her excitement or the bubble of joy that floated around her.

  As she continued, I had another realization—not once while we were in Miami had Aly ever been this excited about anything she did. Not the camps she taught or the classes she gave at the Y. In fact, she hadn’t been this excited, I realized, until she’d come back to New Orleans. Until Leann had sold her the dance studio and Aly took over the school like a fearless champion, refusing to listen to anyone that told her she couldn’t do it on her own. Until she had won two state championships when everyone told her not to expect to win anything.

  But she’d done it—every damn thing she attempted, she’d accomplished.

  Without me.

  The coffee sizzled as I took the pot from the base and the thick scent of dark roast filled the air. Aly stood next to me, fixing her coffee, stirring in creamer and sugar absently. “You don’t want any?” She frowned when I put the sugar back in the cabinet.

  “Nah. Still too hot fro
m my run.”

  She glanced at me, the lingering smile still on her face as she sipped from her cup. Something clicked off in my brain; it was dark and a little possessive but nothing that urged me to be destructive. Aly had moved forward with her life, I knew that. Clearly. And I wasn’t stupid. I knew she’d probably slept with Ethan. I knew she might care about him a lot. But what coursed inside my head just then was a myriad of emotions I wasn’t sure how to analyze or sort into any real sense.

  “I…listen, Aly, I’m sorry about the other night,” I told her, hoping she knew that wasn’t a line.

  “Sorry?” she said, forehead wrinkling as she put her cup on the counter.

  “At the recital. I…I kissed you.” She only watched me, keeping her face impassive. “I, um…I didn’t mean it.” The lie tasted heavy on my tongue, like something bitter and bland that my taste buds rejected the moment I opened my mouth.

  “You didn’t mean it?”

  “No.” I moved out of the kitchen, stretching my arms to keep from touching her. She followed and I felt that hard gaze on my back. “It was stupid. I mean you and Ethan…”

  “Yeah, it was stupid.” She stood in front of me, eyebrows up as she moved her gaze around my face, the heat of it licking against my skin like a burn. I enjoyed the heat, but hated that look. It meant she was reading me, testing me, trying her hardest to catch me in a lie. “What?” I said, popping my neck.

  “Ransom, how many times do you think you’ve kissed me?”

  “What?”

  Aly moved forward, prowling it seemed, but then that was likely my overactive, hopeful imagination. She didn’t want me, I knew that. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that her expression meant a lot more than some attempt she made to get me to stop lying to her.

  “How many times have you kissed me over the years?”

  “I…I dunno. Thousands, millions.” I shot for cool, relaxed and failed miserably at it, sitting on the back of the sofa when she walked forward. “Why does it matter?”