by Autumn Reed
He pulled his shoulders back, stretching. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you want to hit me.” He cocked his head, leaving the unspoken question hanging in the air. I shrugged; he was more on point than he realized. I couldn’t decide if he was the source of my pent up frustration or just an outlet.
“You clearly understand the basics. Now that we’re warmed up, let’s work on more advanced maneuvers.”
I grinned. “Bring it on.”
We executed a series of exercises that were increasingly complicated; it was almost like a dance. Ethan would occasionally stop me mid-attack and give pointers—how to strengthen my stance, weaknesses to focus on, alternative counter-measures.
“Don’t forget, Haley, your first goal is always to evade and run away. Don’t engage if you don’t have to.” I nodded.
I felt hot, sweat prickling my skin, and inhaled deeply to catch my breath. Competitive by nature, my anxiety over being with Ethan faded as I focused on how to take him down. He was a good teacher, patient and knowledgeable; he was also very strong and very quick. Now that we had moved past the warm up, it was getting increasingly difficult to combat him.
Ethan came up beside me and attacked so suddenly that I was caught off guard. Left with limited options, I flung my elbow at him but to no avail. Before I knew it, Ethan stood behind me, one of my arms locked behind my head and around his neck, the other pinned to my side beneath his forearm.
Trapped against Ethan, I could feel his muscles pushing against my back as we breathed heavily, our chests rising and falling almost in unison. His nose grazed my temple and cheek before his mouth hovered next to my ear, his baritone voice low. “I like this feisty side of you.”
My heart clenched and then started beating even faster. Can he hear it racing?
His arm wrapped around my waist held firm, keeping me close to him as his other hand trailed gently down the inside of my arm that was around his neck. My body shivered, unable to hide my obvious pleasure at his touch.
“But our time is up. So . . . better luck next time, Buffy.”
Poof! In an instant, my thoughts completely changed, and I felt like a bull facing down the red cape of a toreador. I couldn’t let Ethan have the satisfaction of winning. Ethan’s grip loosened, but his hand remained on my side.
Jackson’s wicked suggestion popped into my head, but I knew I only had a moment to act before the opportunity vanished. Ever so slowly, I shifted my right side down, running the palm of my hand on the outside of his thigh. His breathing got heavier, and he dipped slightly to accommodate my movement.
I struggled to stay focused as his face brushed against my neck, tickling me. I reached behind his knee, running my fingers along the sensitive skin. He laughed and squirmed, loosening his grip on me even more. I used the opportunity to crouch down and jab him in the solar plexus, perhaps a little harder than necessary, before stomping on the instep of his right foot.
Ethan grunted and stepped back, releasing me from his grasp. “Whoever told you about that is going down.” He sucked in a deep breath.
I grinned, feeling empowered by the self-defense lesson and perhaps braver than was wise. “No, you are,” I said, as I kicked his legs out from under him.
Looking down at his sprawled figure on the mat, I stretched my hand out to help him up.
He grasped it, his large, strong hand closing over mine. “You’re ruthless, Haley.” Ethan gave me a devilish side-eye, but I could see the edges of his lips curling up.
“Don’t even think about trying that again in the future.” He yanked my arm. Unprepared and powerless against his strength, I landed on his chest, our faces inches apart. In real time, the moment probably lasted fifteen seconds, but it felt like a solid minute.
When the song changed, I snapped out of my daze and jumped to my feet. I smiled sweetly and said, “No guarantees,” as I sauntered off toward the stairs.
Party of Five
I practically leapt up the stairs two at a time, grinning at the success of my suprise attack on Ethan. When I reached the first floor, I swiped my phone off the kitchen counter, hoping to get a final headcount for dinner. Sure enough, there were several new text messages.
Jackson: See you at 7pm. Let me know if I can bring anything.
I smiled, glad to see Jackson had accepted my invitation. I couldn’t believe I was kind of nervous-excited about seeing him, instead of just plain nervous.
Liam: Can’t tonight. Raincheck?
Liam: Preferably for dinner for two.
I huffed out a laugh. Typical Liam.
Ethan appeared in the kitchen. “What’s for dinner, and what can I do?”
I glanced at the clock and realized we had an hour, hour-and-a-half tops, before the rest of the guys would arrive. “That’s a very good question,” I said, tapping my fingers on the counter.
I inventoried the fridge and pantry, hoping we had the ingredients for tacos. Jackson, Ethan, Knox, Chase, and me—five; we would need a few more items from the store. I looked over at Ethan, and he was standing patiently at the counter, checking his phone. A flash of concern crossed his face before he looked up at me, his face composed once more.
“Everything okay?”
He ruffled his hair with his fingers. “Yeah, nothing to worry about.”
Did his hair just look like that when he rolled out of bed, or did it require effort? Even after the self-defense lesson, it looked perfectly styled yet messy. My hair, on the other hand, felt beyond messy with my braid in drastic need of repair.
“So . . . dinner?” He asked.
Crap! How long had I been standing there staring at Ethan? I shook my head to clear the image of Ethan’s fresh-out-of-bed hair, and I saw the corner of his lips lift into the beginning of that irresistible smirk of his.
“Oh, um, yeah. I think we need to make a quick run to the store,” I responded.
When Ethan started the car, the radio was blaring. He hurriedly reached for the controller and turned it down. Was that Katy Perry? The radio station switched to another song, just as catchy, but not quite so loud. About three songs later, we pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store.
Ethan stopped at the sliding doors. “Cart or basket?”
“Basket should be fine,” I said, and walked toward them. But Ethan’s long stride beat mine and he picked up a basket before I had a chance. “Lead the way, Supergirl.”
I laughed, surprised that Ethan had called me by a nickname. “Actually, that’s what Theo calls me. Well, that and other nicknames.” I bit my lip, not realizing what I was saying until it was too late.
“Oh really?” He said as his eyebrows lifted. “Such as?”
Pausing in front of the tortilla chips, I racked my brain for a suitable answer. The longer I delayed, the worse it seemed. “Oh, you know Theo; he likes to change it up.” I hoped that he wouldn’t push the issue further. Admitting some of Theo’s pet names, such as “pretty bird” and “cutie pie,” to Ethan was out of the question.
“Theo can’t possibly have a monopoly on all nicknames,” he said, maintaining a firm grip on the basket handle.
Ethan threw out a few names like he was trying them on for size. But each time, he shook his head and pursed his lips, dissatisfied with the option. I even scrunched my nose at a few of them.
When we passed the candy aisle, I laughed as Ethan wandered off without me. “Hey! Where do you think you’re going? We have dinner to make.”
Ethan stood mesmerized by the endless choices in front of him. After a minute or two, I tugged on his arm, feeling his large bicep flex beneath my hand. He grabbed a few packages of Peanut Butter M&M’s before letting me playfully drag him along.
“Ready to check out, Starburst?” He grinned, clearly pleased with his latest suggestion and awaiting my reaction.
“Absolutely, Milky Way.”
Ethan laughed, the rich timbre of his voice warming me. “Um, yeah. I don’t think so.” He placed a few items on the conveyer belt as the
cashier started ringing them up. “But, I do like Starburst.”
None of the other guys had arrived at the loft by the time we returned. Ethan switched on some music and then started mashing avocados for guacamole. I stood at the stove cooking peppers and chicken; my stomach rumbled in response to the sizzle and hiss of the food in the pan. Working together to make dinner, it didn’t take long before most of the food was ready to go.
“Looks delicious,” Ethan purred in my ear.
I jumped and almost lost hold of the tongs. How did he sneak up on me like that?
He placed his hand on my waist, and I felt a jolt of electricity as he stood behind me, my heart kickstarting into high gear. His lips felt like they were touching my ear when he spoke. “Nice work today. I was impressed, despite your unsportsmanlike conduct near the end. Tsk-tsk.” The wisps of hair that had fallen out of my braid tickled my face, compounding the effect.
Hoping my voice at least sounded steady, I responded in a sweet and coy voice. “Unsportsmanlike? I thought you would want me to use an adversary’s weakness to my advantage.”
I could hear the smile in his voice. “That’s true, but . . .” He placed his other hand on my hip and spun me around to face him. I blinked rapidly, surprised by the shift in my position. “That doesn’t mean I want anyone else to know about it.” His hands remained on my hips as I leaned slightly backward to avoid touching either of us with the tongs still in my hand.
I tilted my head and raised an eyebrow. “So, I’m just supposed to keep quiet about the fact that I took you down?”
“That would be great.” He said it in such a matter-of-fact tone, I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Seriously?” I wasn’t going to gloat about it, but I felt entitled to a little bragging at the very least.
“Yes,” he squeezed my hips gently. “It will be our little secret.” He held eye contact, pulling me in like a magnet.
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Jackson walking in the door and cringed. This is so not what it looks like, I thought, for once wishing Jackson could hear my thoughts. Ethan must have sensed the change in the atmosphere, or perhaps saw my deer-in-the-headlights look, because he turned around, shielding me behind his back.
“Hey, Jackson,” Ethan said easily, before shifting out from his attack-dog stance. Ethan looked back at me and raised his eyebrow, silently asking if I would keep his secret. Flustered, I turned around and busied myself with cooking without giving him the confirmation he sought.
“Let me guess . . . Taco Tuesday?” Jackson said.
I looked over my shoulder, hoping my face had returned to its normal color. “You got it!” I smiled and turned back to the chicken that was almost finished before turning off the stove.
Jackson and Ethan were pulling everything out of the fridge for dinner when Knox and Chase walked in.
“Smells fantastic,” Knox’s voice practically growled, betraying his hunger.
Chase looked stressed, tired maybe. But when he noticed me looking his direction, his face lit up into a smile, and he moved closer to say hello. Before I could wonder if he would give me his usual one-arm hug, Chase scooped me up in his arms, wrapping them around me and squeezing tight. He gave me another quick squeeze before releasing me, and I wobbled, struggling to remain upright after such an intense hug. What was that about? I scanned each of the guys’ faces, trying to figure out what they were thinking, but they carried on as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
With dinner ready, I placed the final dish on the counter. “Dig in,” I said, before the guys swarmed the food. Jackson went last, facing me across the kitchen island while Chase, Ethan, and Knox took seats around the large wooden dining table.
“I brought you that Napoleon book I mentioned,” Jackson said, as he spooned salsa onto his tacos. “Thanks for dinner; this looks delicious.”
Jackson and I joined the others at the table where they were discussing college football and fantasy teams. It all sounded like jibberish to me, so I was thankful when Ethan changed topics to campus Halloween pranks. I couldn’t believe some of the outrageous stunts. And while I laughed at many of the hijinks, some made me almost thankful not to be a college student.
Throughout dinner I noticed Chase laughing, but he seemed distracted. He kept crossing his arms, rubbing his thumb over his bicep, lost in his thoughts.
We were all laughing over Knox’s latest tale when he turned to me. “So, Haley, pulled any good pranks, Halloween or otherwise?”
I shook my head. “Unless you count putting plastic spiders on my dad’s pillow, not really.”
Knox threaded his fingers through his hair, laughing. “Not exactly what I had in mind,” he said, before Chase and Ethan drew him into their sports conversation that had resumed.
I started playing with the ends of my hair, thinking about the Halloweens of years past. Since trick-or-treating was out of the question, my dad made going to the pumpkin patch a special event.
Jackson interrupted my thoughts. “What are you thinking, Haley?”
I pushed some wisps of hair out of my face and smiled wistfully. “Oh, nothing.”
“I doubt that,” he pressed, his eyes searching my own.
Sighing, I said, “I was just thinking about all of the great Halloween traditions my dad and I have . . . had.”
He was silent, listening, inviting me to continue talking. “It’s my favorite time of the year. I’m sure that sounds silly; most people love Christmas or Thanksgiving, some family holiday with great food. But for us, Halloween was the one holiday we made a big deal of—decorating the house, watching scary movies, eating candy. And most importantly, visiting this amazing pumpkin patch—outside of our town, of course.”
“Did you carve jack-o’-lanterns?”
“Yuck. Are you kidding? I hate getting my hands covered in pumpkin guts.”
Jackson laughed almost noiselessly before I continued. “No, we decorated them with paint or hot glue and things like googly eyes a few days before Halloween.”
“Googly eyes?” He asked, looking puzzled.
I giggled. “Yeah, you know. The little plastic eyes that move when you shake them.” I shook my head and rolled my eyes around to demonstrate.
Jackson smiled, his features transforming into something softer. Great, now he thinks I’m a complete goofball.
* * *
Ethan pulled two pool cues off the rack. “Who’s up first?”
Chase headed straight for the couch and turned on the TV. “You guys go ahead. The Angels are playing tonight.” He stared straight ahead as he switched the channel to the baseball game and turned the volume on low.
Although I knew Chase was a baseball fan, I was surprised that he was being so anti-social. Whatever was bothering him must have been pretty serious. I wanted to ask him about it but decided to give him time to snap out of his funk.
Jackson took the other pool cue. “I’ll take you on, Ethan. I need to redeem my standing after you beat me last time.”
Ethan snorted. “Don’t count on it.”
“Be careful,” Jackson responded. “Your overconfidence has been known to bite you in the ass now and then.”
Knox chimed in, his smug grin evidence that Ethan wasn’t the only overconfident player. “I don’t know why you two even bother. Neither of you has a chance against me.”
Ethan glared playfully. “Says the man who has a pool table in his basement. It’s not exactly a fair competition, now is it?”
I rolled my eyes at their banter. Were all guys so competitive?
Knox turned to me. “Up for a game of air hockey? Theo told me you’re not bad.”
I wasn’t particularly familiar with proper air hockey trash-talk, but I decided I might as well fake a little confidence of my own. “Not bad? That sounds like the kind of challenge I couldn’t possibly turn down.”
Ethan snickered and said, “Five dollars on Haley.” He gazed at me knowingly, “She’s tougher than she looks.”
> I smiled at his comment. Despite basically begging me to keep “our little secret” from the self-defense lesson, Ethan was acknowledging my abilities. Obviously I wasn’t anywhere near Ethan’s level, but I could hold my own.
Air hockey, on the other hand, was a different story. Even though I’d won several games against Theo, I suspected that he was taking it easy on me, and I had no doubt that Knox would trounce me. Oh well; hopefully Ethan isn’t too attached to that five dollars.
Knox hit the button to turn on the table and handed me a mallet as the cool air rushed through the vents. “First player to seven wins.” He slid the puck toward me. “I’ll even be nice and let you take possession first.”
“Wow, so generous.”
Remembering one of the tips Theo had given me, I slid my hand behind the knob instead of holding the top of it. Knowing that it was more important to make my shot accurate than incredibly fast, I aimed the puck for the left corner of Knox’s goal. Surprisingly, it slid right in and I scored my first point.
Jackson and Ethan—apparently more interested in the showdown between me and Knox than their game of pool—both cheered loudly. I smiled but didn’t let them distract me. I positioned my mallet about a foot away from my goal like Theo had instructed and waited for the shot. When Knox aimed the puck for just off of the table’s center, I was able to flick my wrist to knock it away. I gained control of the puck and aimed for the opposite corner as last time, but Knox blocked it easily. In a blink, the puck was soaring back toward me and sunk into my goal.
As the game continued, it was obvious that Knox was the more experienced player. By the end of the first game, I had only scored three goals to his seven. During our second game, Knox gave me a few more tips that proved helpful, and I only lost by two points.
Ethan groaned and pulled a ten dollar bill out of his wallet before slapping it down on the table. “Clearly I shouldn’t have agreed to double or nothing on the second game.” Turning away from Knox, he winked at me, letting me know he didn’t care about the money.
