Weird.
When I get to the dining room, I abruptly stop, my breath catching when I see who's at table seven. It's Ethan, looking hotter than ever, wearing a white polo shirt, his skin tinted a dark golden brown from the sun. His shirt is fitted, outlining his muscular shoulders and chest. I love his body. It's one of the many things I miss about him. And his face. Those deep brown eyes and that chiseled jaw, covered in a light layer of stubble.
I can't do this. I can't go over there.
He's looking at his phone. He hasn't seen me. I could sneak back in the kitchen and hide there until he's gone.
Just as I'm about to turn back, he glances up from his phone and sees me. He doesn't smile, but instead just looks at me, our eyes connecting in a heated stare. I already feel a tingle between my legs, remembering what it was like to be with him.
Maybe that's why I can't get over him. The sex was too damn good.
I quickly walk over to his table and set his plate down. "Do you need anything else?"
I assume he'll beg me to sit down and talk to him, but instead he says, "No, I'm good. Thanks."
That's it? That's all he's going to say? He hasn't seen me in weeks and that's all he says?
Maybe he's moved on. Maybe that's why he's been calling me. To let me know he has someone else. If so, that's really rude. I don't need to know he has someone else. He should keep that to himself.
"Becca?" I hear his voice as I'm walking away.
I turn back. "Yes?"
"Could I have some hot sauce?" He holds up the empty bottle on the table. "This one's out."
"Um, yeah, okay." I go over and take the bottle from him and my hand brushes against his, making me almost drop the bottle.
"Got it?" he asks, smiling. Damn, that smile. More tingling. Shit.
"Yeah. I'll be right back."
I hurry to the kitchen, feeling breathless and completely flustered. Why am I acting this way? I didn't act this way when we dated, but now I'm all nervous around him. Is it because he didn't react the way I thought he would?
"Becca, Becca, your cheeks are red," Max sings. "What's going on in that cute little head?"
"Max, not now. I'm not in the mood." I reach under the counter and find the jug of hot sauce we use to refill the bottles.
Max continues to sing. "Something's up at table seven. Becca's little slice of heaven." And then he laughs.
"Seriously?" I glare at him, annoyed. "Slice of heaven? I thought you hated him."
"I didn't say I hated him." He puts a basket of chicken in the fryer and sets the timer. "In fact, we've been hanging out."
"What?" I almost drop the now-full bottle of hot sauce. "You've been hanging out with Ethan?"
He feigns shock, rearing back as he points at me. "You're not supposed to say his name!"
I roll my eyes. "Yeah, I can break my own rule. Now are you joking or have you really been hanging out with Ethan?"
"He came to a cookout at my house a few weeks ago. Then I went to his house. Gave him a cooking lesson. Taught him to use the grill. Then I went to one of his parties and—"
"Wait." I set the bottle down. "Let me get this straight. This whole time, you've been talking to Ethan, hanging out with him, and you never even thought to mention this to me?"
"You told me not to talk about him."
"Yeah, but—"
"Mike's been hanging out with him too."
My jaw drops and Max laughs.
"You should see your face. I should get a picture." He takes out his phone but I grab it from him.
"How do you know this about Mike?"
"He was at Ethan's party last weekend. Heather was there too."
My jaw drops again.
Max grabs his phone. "Sorry, but I need a photo of this."
He holds his phone up but I swat it away. "You're telling me that Mike, my own brother, has been lying to me?"
"He didn't lie. He just didn't tell you."
"Same thing."
"Not really. Where did he tell you he went last Saturday?"
I stop to think. "To a party."
"There you go. He didn't lie." Max lifts the basket from the fryer and shakes it, then drops it in the hot grease again.
"He should've told me. You BOTH should have."
"We were just following your rules. No talking about Ethan."
I glance at the break room. "Did Tina know this was going on?"
"No, but she does now. I just told her." He motions to the dining room. "You better get back out there. Ethan's waiting for his hot sauce."
I start to leave, then stop. "How do you know it's for him?" I narrow my eyes at Max. "Did you purposely give him an empty bottle so I'd have to fill it and go back out there?"
He laughs. "You're being paranoid. Just go give the guy his sauce."
I race back to the dining room, stopping at Ethan's table and setting the sauce down.
He glances at me. "Thanks."
"You're welcome."
He sprinkles the sauce on his chicken, then takes a bite, like I'm not even there. What the hell? Did he seriously just come here to eat chicken?
I should go back in the kitchen and not come out until he's gone. That would be the smart thing to do. But instead, I sit across from him.
He says nothing. Nothing! Just eats his stupid chicken.
"So you're not going to say anything?"
He glances at me. "You said you didn't want to talk to me. You asked me to leave you alone."
"And yet you're here. Where I work."
"I was craving the chicken. I came here a couple Saturdays ago with the guys and I wanted to have the chicken again."
So he came here on a Saturday, when I wasn't working. Maybe he really is just here for the chicken. Now I'm embarrassed for accusing him of only being here because of me. But if he's no longer interested in me, why does he keep calling me?
"Max said you two have been hanging out," I say.
"Not a lot but a few times." He takes a drink of his pop, his large hand wrapped around the glass. Damn, I miss those hands, and what he does with them.
I look away.
"Are you on break?" he asks.
"Um, no. I just got off break."
"If you need to get back to work, go ahead. I don't want you to get in trouble."
He's sending me away? So I guess he's finally given up on me. He must have someone else. But why didn't Mike tell me? And why the hell didn't Mike let me know he'd been hanging out with Ethan?
"Max said my brother was at your party last week," I say, not ready to leave yet. I should, but I don't.
"Yeah. He and Heather came over," Ethan says, like it's no big deal.
"So, um...are you two friends or what?"
"Yeah. He didn't tell you?" Ethan grins a little. He knows Mike didn't tell me.
What the hell is going on here? Why are the guys in my life conspiring against me? Okay, maybe they're not conspiring but they're definitely keeping secrets.
"He didn't mention you two were friends."
"I haven't seen him much lately with football practice, which is why I invited him to the party."
Football practice. I almost forgot. His leg! I look under the table and see his leg is no longer in a cast.
"When did you get the cast off?"
"A few weeks ago. They took it off early because my leg was healing faster than expected."
"Ethan, that's great!" I smile, truly happy for him. I know how much he hated having his leg in a cast.
"Yeah. I'm finally able to move around again instead of being stuck on the couch. I actually leave the house now. In fact, I'm hardly ever home. I'm always at the gym or on the field."
"So you're going to play again?"
"Not right away, but I'm hoping by October."
"And...it's what you want?" I ask hesitantly.
He smiles. "Yeah. It's what I want."
And from his tone, I can tell it's true. So he made a decision, and it sounds like it's his decision,
not his coach's or his dad's.
"I'm really happy for you," I tell him. "It seems like everything's coming together for you."
He glances down at his plate. "Yeah. I pretty much have everything I ever wanted."
Pretty much? What does that mean? It makes me wonder if his dad is being a jerk again.
"Are you having problems with your dad?" I ask, then realize I shouldn't have asked. It's too personal. He'll shut down.
"My dad's the same as always. He'll never change. I decided to stop worrying about him. But he IS a good agent so I'll probably let him work for me when the time comes."
"So you've decided to play professionally?"
"I have." His eyes go to mine. "What do you think about that?"
I shrug. "If it's what you want to do, then I think it's good."
"It's a lot of travel. I'll be on the road a lot."
"Yeah? So? Why is that a problem?"
He doesn't answer. Maybe he has a girlfriend, and being on the road he'll miss her. It must be serious if he's already thinking about that. It pains me to think of him with someone else. It shouldn't, but it does. A lot.
"So what's new with you?" Ethan asks, wiping his hands on his napkin and sliding his plate aside.
"I'm going back to nursing school."
"Oh, yeah? When?"
"In January. Mike's medical disability got approved so he's getting checks from the military now which help cover our bills."
"So you can quit one of your jobs?"
"I could, but I'm not going to. I want to save up money for school so I won't have to work a lot of hours once classes start."
"And it's what you want to do? Nursing?"
"Truthfully?" I sigh. "Not really. But don't tell Mike that. Or anyone else. Actually, forget I said it. It's what I'm going to do. I'm sure I'll learn to like it."
"You know," he leans toward me across the table, "someone once told me I should do what I love. Maybe you should take her advice."
I swallow, trying not to react to his close proximity. "That advice was for people who have money."
"Why should only people with money be happy in what they do for a living?"
"That's just how it works. It's life."
"Doesn't have to be."
"Miss!" The old man at table two waves at me. "We need the check."
"I'll get it!" Tina says, winking at me as she hurries over to table two.
"Guess you need to get back to work," Ethan says. "Tell Max the chicken was awesome, as always." He takes his wallet out and drops a fifty on the table.
I take it and stand up. "I'll get your change."
"Keep it." He flashes his sexy smile. "I liked the service."
His meal was only ten dollars, making it a forty dollar tip. I'll give it to Tina. This is her table and she needs the money more than I do.
"Good seeing you." Ethan gets up and leaves.
Back in the kitchen, Tina practically shouts, "What did he say? Did he beg you to come back?"
"No. Just the opposite," I say, trying not to sound disappointed. But a part of me is. I thought Ethan wanted me back. Even though I said we were over, deep-down, I didn't want it to be true.
I still love him. I still want to be with him. But we're headed in different directions and I have to accept that.
"Then why was he here?" Tina asks.
"To eat chicken."
"C'mon, Becca. There's no way he showed up here just to eat chicken. He's been calling you every day since you broke up with him. He wants you back."
"From our conversation just now, I don't think he does. He's moved on. He's back to playing football and...I think he might have someone else."
She frowns. "Are you sure?"
"No, but he didn't act interested in me. It was more like we were just friends, which I guess is good. It's what I said I wanted."
She shakes her head really fast. "I don't believe it."
"Believe what?"
"That he has someone else. Or that he's over you." She drags me back to the break room. "Get your phone out and call him."
"What? No. I'm not calling him. Why would I call him?"
"To tell him you want him back."
"I don't want him back. I broke up with him, remember? And I haven't returned any of his calls."
"Because you're stubborn as a mule, which is really annoying by the way. You should work on that." She laughs when she sees my shocked expression. "Anyway, call Ethan. Right now. I'll take care of your tables."
"Tina, I'm not calling him. We're over. It's done."
"Seriously, that stubborn attitude has to end. It's keeping you from being happy."
"What are you talking about? I'm happy," I insist.
"Not as happy as you were when you were with Ethan. Now hurry up and call him."
"For the last time, I am not dating him. It would never work between us."
"Says who?"
"Me. I've seen enough relationships fail to know that it's no use even trying."
"So this is about your mom and dad? And Mike and Tricia?"
"That's not what I meant, but yes, those are good examples. And they all had normal lives, unlike Ethan. Ethan's going to be a big football star. Can you imagine being married to someone like that?"
"Married?" She smiles. "Who said anything about marriage? Have you thought about marrying Ethan?"
"No! Of course not. I just—forget it. I have to get back to work." I try to go around her but she blocks the door.
"Call him."
"No. Now let me out."
She sighs. "You are SO stubborn."
She moves out of the way and we continue our shift.
On my way home, I keep thinking about what Ethan said, specifically the part about how he'd be traveling a lot when he plays pro ball. I still don't get why that's an issue. It's part of being on the team, and if that's what he wants to do, he shouldn't care about being on the road.
I'm almost at my apartment but then stop and make a U-turn and go the other direction towards Ethan's house. Don't ask me why. Seeing him again got my brain all messed up and I'm not thinking straight. Plus, I have to know why he acted that way tonight, as if we're just friends after he spent all those weeks calling me, leaving messages on my phone.
It's after midnight when I knock on his door. Maybe he's asleep. Shit, I didn't even think about that. He's in training now. He needs his sleep. He probably went to bed hours ago.
I turn around and quickly walk back to my van.
"Becca?" I hear Ethan's voice and turn back to see him standing at the door, wearing navy blue basketball shorts and no shirt. His chest and arms are pure muscle. I can't look away. I should, but I can't.
"Becca, come inside."
My eyes quickly dart up at his face. "Um, no, that's okay. I forgot how late it was. Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't wake me. I was out back doing some stretches."
"Oh, well, I don't want to interrupt. I'll stop by some other time." I turn to leave.
"Becca, get back here."
I wish I hadn't done this. What was I thinking? I can't even remember why I came over here.
I should leave. The keys are in my hand. The van is right there.
And yet, moments later, I find myself standing in his living room.
"Seems like we've done this before," Ethan says, a slight smile on his face.
"Done what?"
"You knocking on my door at midnight. Unexpectedly."
"Yeah, about that. I didn't mean to come here this late. I can come back some other time."
"You drove here. Got out of your car. Knocked on the door. It seems like you DID mean to come here. Now would you like to tell me why?"
I look down at the floor, nervously chewing on my lip.
"Becca." I hear his deep sexy voice saying my name and the damn tingling starts up again. From just his voice. Shit, I'm in trouble. "Would you like to tell me why you stopped by?"
"Not really," I mutter.
"See something interesting down there?" he asks, referring to the fact that I'm still looking at the floor.
"I was just noticing it's very clean. Lois does a great job. You should tip her well."
"I always do. But not as much as I used to tip my previous maid. Then again, I didn't pay her in money, so it's really not comparable."
When I cleaned for him, I didn't want him giving me tips because we always spent the afternoon having sex, and if he gave me money I'd feel like it was for the sex, not the cleaning. So he tipped me by pleasuring me in the bedroom, all different ways. Ways I'd never experienced before Ethan came along.
Now I'm thinking about that and it's making my heart beat faster. Or maybe it's because Ethan just stepped closer to me.
He puts his hand under my chin, lifting my face up to his. "What are you thinking about?"
I stare into his eyes, which must mess with my brain because I answer honestly. "You."
"What about me?" His hand slides around to the back of my neck and he gently rubs his thumb along my hairline, sending a tingle down my spine.
"I was just remembering." I close my eyes as he continues to rub his thumb along the base of my scalp.
"Remembering what?" I feel the heat of his body as he steps even closer, his scent surrounding me. That heady, masculine scent that draws me even further into a place I shouldn't go.
"I was remembering...how we used to..." My voice trails off as I feel his hand move down the neckline of my dress, his fingers brushing over my skin. It sends a shiver through me and my eyes pop open.
He's gazing down at his hand, which has stopped at the top button of my dress. His eyes lift to mine, and boldly, without a hint of hesitation, he undoes the top button.
"You were remembering..." He undoes the next button. "How we used to what?"
"How you..." I close my eyes so I can think of what to say. I'm so turned on, I'm having trouble forming words. "How you used to..." I lose my thought as his hand slides under my now open dress and cups my breast.
I feel his mouth by my ear. "How I used to what?"
"Touch me," I breathe out.
His other hand reaches down and slips under my dress. "Like this?" he asks, his fingers moving slowly up the inside of my thigh.
I think I nod but I'm not sure.
"And this?" He moves my panties aside and touches the spot that makes me moan in pleasure.
Holding On Page 29
