by S. L. Scott
“That’s horrible.”
“The worst was still to come. Photos showed up online.”
“Photos of me passed out with dusted cocaine nearby, the empty bottle of Jack.” I reach over and touch his hand, wrapping it inside mine. How could anyone be so underhanded and cruel to this incredible man?
“Keith sent an email with the photos, my mug shot, and links to the online stories to the board of directors. Matthews received it and forwarded it to me. My ex-friend and ex-girlfriend had plotted my demise. Their plan was in motion. The cherry on top was reading about my ex-girlfriend pregnant with my baby in a story she sold for ten thousand dollars.”
“Ethan,” I say, my heart in my throat, aching for this man that’s caught between anger and pain, “I’m so sorry.” I’m not sure what to say so I offer what I can. I may not have any deep relationships in New York, but I can trust my friends. Ethan was abandoned with nowhere to turn. Who purposely hurts someone like that? It makes me admire him even more, because he still has a soul. That could destroy many people. “That’s why you don’t want pictures of us out there? They’ll make you look bad?”
“They’ll make you look bad. I’m used to it. I’ll take the hit, time and time again, but I don’t want them near you.”
“I can take care of myself, Ethan.”
“I know you can. But they’re nasty. They’re sharks looking for fresh meat. I can’t sacrifice you like that.”
“What will they do to you?”
“Every photo caught is ammo used against me. If I’m seen with multiple women then it appears I’m the same playboy they claim I am. The board of directors will find me unfit, and my ex will strengthen her case that I’m irresponsible and owe her damages.”
“Damages? For what?”
“Apparently, for breaking her heart.”
Taking the package of noodles, he opens them. By the slump of his normally strong shoulders, he still feels so burdened by what they did. I go to him, wanting to take away his pain, wanting to erase the betrayal he’s trapped in the middle of. I hug him from behind and rest my cheek on his back. Reaching back around, his hand settles on my hip. I take the noodles and put them in the boiling water. “Doesn’t sound like she has one.”
He turns around. “I think that’s the meanest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”
Soft laughter wells inside me, and I wrap my arms around his neck. “I’m riled up, and it’s the truth. She set you up and is now playing the victim. She can’t possibly have a heart when she’s out to destroy yours.”
“True.” Kissing my forehead, his arms tighten around my waist, and he holds me to him. “But she might be pregnant with my child.”
I’m tempted to look up, wanting to see his eyes, but his hold on me won’t allow me to budge. “Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re not asking for my opinion on it, but I can tell you’re wondering.”
His breathing picks up, his chest expanding and returning. “I am. Your opinion matters to me.”
“You having a child won’t scare me away.”
Our eyes meet with no space left to spare between our bodies. “What will, Singer Davis?”
“I’m stronger than I look.”
“You look pretty damn strong to me.”
“Faith will carry you a long way in life, Ethan.”
“I think I’ve lost some along the way.”
“That’s okay. I have enough for the both of us,” I say, reciting the text he once sent.
“I think you’re amazing.”
Lifting up on my toes, I pull him down and we kiss. Together we tend to the meal, as if we’re having a normal night in. Nothing is normal about this man, least of all tonight, even if we are good at pretending we’re a normal couple.
Garlic bread is slotted in next to the meatballs, and plates are pulled from the cabinet. A timer is set for each item, and then I ask, “If you don’t mind me asking, what does your company do?”
“It’s an online social media company. I developed it in high school but started the business while in college. It just kind of took off. It’s publicly traded now, so I don’t have a ton of say anymore, but I have rights.”
“So you want the company?”
“No, I want my reputation restored. I have a dozen other companies now. I’m not going poor anytime soon.”
“I know you feel alone, but you have people around you who care. I can tell how much Aaron cares about you.”
“He’s been good to me. He’s loyal.”
“He posted your bail.”
“I had to call someone I could rely on, so I called the man I pay to be in my life.”
Moving between his legs when he sits back down on a barstool, I rub his muscular thighs. “He would have been there for you even if you didn’t pay him.”
“That’s why I sent him to you.”
“You don’t have to worry about me so much.”
“I can’t help it. Anyway, that’s what friends do.” And then he smiles at me, and it would be very easy to allow that smile to pass as genuine. But I think I know differently now.
I see the edges of pain in his eyes. I want to see his genuine smile, but I won’t pretend and be lighthearted to achieve that. He just shared something very perturbing, and I want him to know he has another friend. “I’m sorry about what happened, Ethan. That must have been such a hard thing to go through.”
“Still is.” Rubbing my hand over his cheek, I lean in. His hands cover my ass and he brings me closer. “But I don’t want to talk about them anymore.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Us. I want to talk about us.”
“Okay. Let’s talk about us.”
“I know it’s early to be having a conversation like this, but as you now know, we have to decide what we are going to do or be. I like you. I don’t want to hide that from you, but I’m not sure I’m ready to share you with the world yet.”
“What are you saying?”
He kisses my cheek and leans back to look into my eyes. “If you feel the same about me, I want us to really try this relationship out.”
“I care about you deeply, but are we rushing this?”
“Despite all my bad judgments the night I was set up, that wasn’t my biggest regret.”
“What was?”
“Walking away from you a year ago. I don’t want to make that mistake twice.”
This is fast and complicated, but I deserve someone who recognizes what he has, and by how his vulnerable side resides in the worry lines of his brow, he does. I would have kissed him last year, and I like being with him too much to walk away, so I say, “Then don’t.”
21
Singer
I like watching Ethan eat.
There is something so satisfying about it. He eats like there’s no tomorrow. Looking up from his plate, he says, “This is amazing.”
I finished a few minutes earlier and watch him. “You’re just saying that because you’re hungry.”
“I’m saying that because this is delicious.”
“Thanks. Can I ask you something about the press?”
“Anything.”
“Why does the press want to bury you so badly?”
Setting his fork down, he wipes his mouth with a napkin, seeming to lose his appetite. “The press creates their idols, and then they want to destroy them all in the name of sales and ratings.”
“You talk about wanting to be with me, but then you tell these stories like you’re trying to scare me away. I’m lost when it comes to you, Ethan.”
“I’m lost when it comes to you, falling faster with each passing day.”
The weight of the conversation carries into the worries in his eyes. He stares at me, maybe wondering if I’m going to bolt for the door or judge him like everyone else has. “You say that, so light like a sunny day, but when I look into your eyes, I see the opposite. I don’t want to burden you.”
“You’re anything but a burden. T
he trouble is I don’t want to burden you.”
“So here we are once again doing a dance of me trying to help you and you trying to help me. Where will that leave us? I feel like I’ve lost track of the ball and which court it hit.”
“I’m not going to lie. It won’t be easy to be with me.”
“I’m with you now, and it’s easier than I thought.” His gaze holds mine, and a small smile plays across his mouth. I finally ask, “What happens if we aren’t just friends in public? I understand the paparazzi stuff, but what else? What else is involved with us dating?”
“I give my lawyer a directive.”
“That’s romantic.”
Chuckling, he nods. “I can’t always be charming. Sometimes business takes the romance right out of the relationship.”
“How does us pretending to be platonic help your case? Why would dating someone you care about hurt your image?”
“I don’t have the luxury of dating freely. I’m not just a man. I’m a brand. The brand can’t afford flings and one-night stands. The man can’t afford to have his heart broken.”
“Again?”
“I didn’t love her. I thought I would, but I wasn’t there yet. Despite my reservations in that relationship, I stayed. I don’t know why. It was easy. Fun. It was stupid. I should have left long before the fallout. But because of the complications involved, my legal team has advised me to keep things ‘light’ with you. The problem is that I can’t. Just looking at you . . . even Nicolina saw how I looked at you.”
“She told you that?”
“She did. She also told me you’re lovely and not to let you go.”
I relish how he’s opening up, lighting up all his truths for me to see him through the darkness that keeps him buried. “I’m drawn to you, something inside pulls me closer and keeps me here.”
My chair is pulled closer, causing me to laugh, but it stops when he says, “I’m drawn to your smile, to your laugh, to the way you see the world—so open and honest—not tainted.” Touching my cheek, he adds, “You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen, but it was deeper with you from the minute I saw you. I felt a connection, something real.”
I want more. I want him. Inching even closer, I reach over and touch his chest, feeling his heavy beat just beneath. “I want in here, Ethan.”
“You’re already there.”
My chin is lifted and our lips meet in a passionate caress. We part, and when I slowly open my eyes, he says, “I’ve been dying to get back in bed with you all day.”
I lead him to the bedroom and make love to him. Slow for him, deep for me. We’re in no hurry as I try to piece back this man kiss-by-kiss, thrust-by-thrust, caress-by-caress. Faith, hope, and love become the glue that grows stronger the more time we spend together.
It’s just after midnight when I wake to the sound of his peaceful slumber. He’s not snoring, but he’s deep in sleep. For someone who says he doesn’t sleep well, he’s doing a fine job. Maybe it’s because I’m here. I hope it is.
I push a few stray stands away from his eyes, lean in, and kiss him softly.
There’s so much to think about, but my attraction seems to be trumping the red flags in our way. Our way. Our. Ethan and I went from practically strangers to becoming a we in a matter of weeks. Sure, that’s the normal track for dating, but his life is complicated, and the way the details are being doled out concerns me.
His life is exciting on the surface, but what lies beneath the shiny exterior?
I lie on my back, processing the information he’s shared. Is the press trying to skewer him because he’s young, rich, and handsome? Why would his best friend and girlfriend set him up? Lawsuits and money. What stress he must be under.
Looking around the room, there’s no expense spared. I pull the covers to my neck. Even these sheets are wonderfully luxurious. So soft and sateen. Melanie would freak out if she could see this apartment. She’ll flip out hearing about it.
“Can’t sleep?” Ethan asks, his voice husky and completely sexy.
Rolling toward him, I rest on my side. “Happy.”
“C’mere.” One eye peeks open, and he stretches out an arm. “What are you happy about?”
“Being here.” With you.
I expect a yawn, but I get a smile instead. “You’re right. It must be awesome being here with me.” He starts chuckling and says, “I’m kidding. It’s nice to have you here.”
I’m still laughing when I ask, “What happens tomorrow?”
“We eat wings and watch baseball.” Grabbing a good handful of my backside, he adds, “And don’t forget, you’ll be naked.”
“I’m also going to need another bath in that amazing tub. A little wine and some downtime. I wish I had my book. I still haven’t finished.”
“I have a copy. I can read it to you in the tub, with all the wine you can drink.”
My eyelids grow heavy again. “Sounds divine.”
The top of my head is kissed, and he whispers, “Sweet dreams, Singer Davis.”
“Sweet dreams, Ethan Everest.”
A deal’s a deal. I served the wings naked with a little apron I found in the hall closet. Ethan forgot about the game altogether, and we missed five innings while I let him round my bases. Twice.
Despite the fun of the day, my mind has been preoccupied with a weird phenomenon since I woke from a nap. I didn’t bother with it early on because Ethan was in such a good mood, and I didn’t want to ruin it.
But who cleaned the kitchen while we slept last night? I thought Ethan was in bed all night, but somehow it was cleaned and everything put back where it belongs, hidden away behind high-end cabinet doors.
The questions were running rampant, so I finally ask, “Who cleaned the kitchen?”
Without looking up from his laptop on the coffee table, he replies, “The housekeeper,” as if I should know who he’s talking about.
“She comes in the middle of the night?”
“No. She comes early in the morning. She straightens things up and makes sure I have coffee supplies and fresh food in the fridge for my breakfast.”
“What happens to her?”
Angling his body in my direction, he chuckles and finally looks my way. “Nothing happens to her. She comes in, cleans, then leaves before I come out of my room, and then returns later in the day when I’m at work.”
“So you never see her?”
“I always see her. I told you I don’t sleep well.” As if he catches himself, with a languid little smirk, he adds, “Usually.”
“What’s her name?”
“Pamela.”
“You’re telling me this like it’s normal.”
“It is normal. Pamela is a very common name.” I almost feel as though he’s mocking me.
I roll my eyes, but my smile gives away my lack of annoyance. “You know what I mean.”
“You’re overthinking this.”
“I always overthink things.”
“That you do, dear Singer. That you do.”
“That’s because I feel like everything’s a mystery with you.”
“Not everything. I’ve shown you the skeletons in my closet, but no, I haven’t dragged them out. I’m quite open with you.”
The scoff is a precursor to my wide eyes and open mouth. “People are walking around an apartment where I’m sleeping naked. I need to know these things, Ethan. I’m not trying to be demanding, but you said I’m in”—I can’t back down now—“in your heart. That means you want me in your life. Pamela is in your life. A little heads-up on the people who surround you, who keep your life running so smoothly, would be helpful.”
His eyes don’t seem to settle on anything in particular, much like his thoughts seem to be rolling through his head. I’m uneasy. Again. And I hate it, but I remain quiet because I have to give him time to think through his response. I’ve shown him my vulnerabilities when it comes to us. I need him to decide if he’s ready to reveal his own. The intensity in his focus moves
from the distance to me. “I don’t need you to clean or cook for me, Singer. I don’t need you to grocery shop or make my bed. That’s not why I’m with you. That’s not why you’re here now. You’re here because I can’t stop these feelings from growing. You’re here because you make my soul lighter. You make me happy. You’re here because I’m falling in love with you.” He’s . . . what?
He takes a deep breath and then his eyes shift to the side and back again. He continues, “Pamela Lowenstein. She’s forty-three with two kids. Oldest son starts Columbia this fall. Younger daughter will be a sophomore in high school.”
“Wait.” My hands fly up in front of me. “Back up.”
“To Pamela? Or her kids?”
“Before Pamela.”
“You asked me about the kitchen.”
“After that.” His devious smile gives him away. “You’re going to make me work for this, aren’t you?”
“No.” He stands and comes around the couch. Taking me by the wrists, he places my hands around his neck. “I’m falling for you.”
“Say it again. Exactly,” I insist with a grin a mile wide.
With a roll of his eyes, he leans down until our noses almost touch. “I’m falling in love with you, Singer Davis.”
And I’m dead from all the swoons, a mere puddle of overflowing emotions for this man. With his hands roaming my sides, my body tilts toward his. “I’m falling for you.”
“Say it. Exactly.”
Giggling, I roll my eyes this time, but deep inside, I know he needs to hear it. With my fingers tickling the back of his neck, I kiss his chin. “I’m falling in love with you, Ethan Everest.”
“So what you’re saying is that you never clean up after yourself?”
“Ahh, we’re back to cleaning.” He smiles. Rubbing his forehead, he looks up at me under dark lashes, and a wry grin spreads across his mouth, making me smile. “I really don’t like to clean.”
Raising my chin, I nod. “I can live with that.” I’m not the neatest person out there, but never cleaning again sounds like a luxury I’ve never contemplated. Although I find pride when I clean my apartment, I might be able to let someone else clean the toilets. I walk to the table where I set my purse. Pulling my phone out, I’m about to text Aaron, but remember we gave him the day off. Inwardly, I berate myself for already relying on him so much. I won’t have him forever and the spoiled look is unattractive on anyone. “I should probably go.”
