He laughed softly. “You’ve already paid me back. And this…this feels good. To want. I want to keep wanting for a little while longer.”
She understood that. Boy she did. So she nodded. “Okay.”
He slid back down to the floor, adjusting himself with a grimace. Then he picked up his controller. “Want to play a little longer?”
She took a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll try not to get burned up this time.”
He grinned.
Later that afternoon, Lissa sat with her knees under her chin, clicking through the pictures she’d taken of Ethan that morning. She hadn’t told him yet because she wanted time to look through them, choosing the best ones. She didn’t plan to touch them up in any way other than color correcting and fixing some lighting issues. It was important to her that Ethan see these raw images.
His smile when they parted ways that morning was so much lighter than she’d ever seen it. It rattled her how much she cared and how much he’d wormed his way into her heart.
Her project would be completely without him. After what they went through, and the future she was increasingly desiring with him, she didn’t want to approach him about it. She’d tell him after she showed him the snapshots.
On the screen now was one of the pictures she’d taken blindly, the camera held at arm’s length over his still body. She knew this was a little creepy, but she’d done it. And she was determined to show them to him. She wished she would have done this for Rona—taken pictures and let Rona see her how everyone else saw her.
A picture was more than a picture. Her shots were the way she saw the world, the way she saw the subject of the photo. They were a snapshot in time and from her lens.
As her gaze traveled over the way the light caressed his face, the smooth planes of his skin, and the mottled scars, all she saw was the beauty of Ethan. He was a man who felt his scars more inside than outside, and she hoped she was doing something, even if only a little, to help him heal.
He was going to have to do most of the painful process on his own.
“Who’s that?”
A voice startled her; she dropped her legs to the floor and twisted in her chair, a hand at her chest. She blew out a breath when she spotted Angel standing in the doorway. “You scared the shit out of me. I didn’t hear you come in.”
He smiled and sank down on the edge of her bed. “You never do when you’re working. So who’s that?”
She bit her lip. “Uh, this is Ethan Talley. E-Rad.”
Angel squinted to see the screen closer. “Really? You took pictures of him when he was asleep? Damn that’s creepy.”
She rolled her eyes and closed the photos, because it felt weird to have someone look at them, even if it was her brother. “Don’t judge me.”
“Did you have a good night?”
She squirmed as she rotated her chair to face him. “Yes.”
He snickered. “So he agreed to be in your project?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not asking him anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t think it’s right. Not now that we have this…relationship.”
“It’s a relationship now?”
She was barely sure herself. “I think so. We get along so well, and I think we make each other better people. He lost someone like we did, but he handled it completely different. He shut off rather than let his family in, you know?”
Angel’s face was sober. “Shit.”
“So he doesn’t need to be placed in the public eye right now. I was thinking of my project first, before the human. And that’s wrong. Humans come first.”
Angel was silent for a moment. “You do think of people first, Lissa. That’s why you’re doing this project.”
“I know, but—”
“You’re thinking of who’s involved and what this project means every step of the way. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
She swallowed thickly as her eyes began to sting. “Okay.”
He stood up and stretched. “So, you hungry?”
“I had sausage gravy and biscuits this morning, so I don’t think I’ll eat for two days.”
“You ate that delicacy without me?” He pouted.
She laughed. “Give me a month to work off the calories from this morning and we’ll go out for the same thing.”
“Fine,” he huffed. “I’m going to make a sandwich. “You okay?”
“Yep.”
He gave her a wave and walked out.
She turned her chair back to her computer and opened up the beta site where she and Daniel were preparing the project before it went live. Ethan’s pictures would look perfect in it, as they were taken in Lissa’s portrait style. But it wasn’t meant to be. Those pictures were for her, and for Ethan, too. He’d see soon that he was worth more than a scarred, grumpy hermit.
…
Ethan’s finger hovered over the track pad. This was the fourth damn time today he’d tried to look at videos of himself and chickened out. He’d had so much coffee that he thought his finger might click on a video just from jittering.
Sunday was supposed to be a relaxing day for him, and instead he’d spent most of the morning pacing and guzzling caffeine.
He inhaled sharply, exhaled slowly, and pressed on the green arrow.
The sounds of shooting immediately filled his living room. And then, his own voice. “Hey, E-Rad here. Got some requests to play the new Assassin’s Creed, and since Ubisoft was kind enough to send me a copy, I’m gonna show you all the tricks and shit, eh?”
E-Rad winked at the camera. Ethan winced. Damn, that was kind of sleazy.
But as Ethan watched E-Rad talk and move and make exaggerated noises as he slashed a bad guy’s throat, he didn’t seem like such a stranger anymore. Ethan was E-Rad. Treating that guy like a totally different person wasn’t doing Ethan any favors at working to bring himself out of the trenches.
If he wanted to move on, if he wanted to get over this hump and be the kind of man who could stand next to Lissa with pride, then he had to do this. He had to see that, while he was older, he was still the same person. He could still be charming and outgoing and…maybe even handsome. He could still be a decent brother, lover, and maybe even a decent son again.
“I think this game is gonna be Top Dawg on the E-Rad scale, what do you think, guys?”
Ethan snorted a laugh. If he was going to do anything in front of the camera again, he was getting rid of the E-Rad name and any type of outdated lingo like Top Dawg. For fuck’s sake.
He made a pistol shape with his fingers at E-rad on the screen and fired.
On Monday, Grant stormed in to Ethan’s office and then closed the door behind him. Ethan lifted his head and watched the man pace a couple of times, his mouth twitching, before standing in front of his desk, hands on his hips. His face was red, his hair grooved from his fingers.
Ethan folded his hands on his desk in front of him and waited his friend out. He hadn’t talked to Grant since their argument Friday. He knew his friend. He knew Grant would bust in here all blustered and unsure whether to keep yelling at Ethan or apologize.
Finally Grant opened his mouth and pointed a finger at Ethan. “You—!” He stopped abruptly and changed gears. “I’m sorry. For Friday. I know I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have, but I thought about it over the weekend and I talked to Chloe about it, and I really think I wasn’t too far off base. I don’t think asking you to step up for this company is so bad. I’m not sorry for pushing the issue.” He held up his hands. “But I’ll back off now. I realize that getting in your face isn’t what you need and I’m sorry for that. Sometimes I fuck up this friend and future brother-in-law thing, okay?”
Ethan nodded slowly, trying not to smile as Grant wore himself out. He must not have done a good job, because Grant narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. “Are you smiling?”
Ethan tugged down the corners of his lips. “No way.”
Grant stepped closer. “No s
eriously, I think you were smiling.”
“Certainly not. I take your apology seriously.”
“Are you drunk?”
Ethan laughed. “What the hell? No, I’m not drunk.”
“Then why are you being weird and agreeable and doing that weird thing with your lips? And laughing? What?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Grant gave him a look but then rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I’ll leave you alone now.” He backed away toward the door. “I just… Yeah, I’m done nagging you, okay?”
“Good,” Ethan said.
Grant placed his hand on the doorknob. “No more hounding you to get back in front of the camera.”
“Excellent.” He straightened some papers, and as Grant was one step out of his office, Ethan said. “Because I’m going to do it.”
Grant froze. He didn’t move for a good twenty seconds. Ethan knew because he counted. Then slowly, Grant walked backward, shut the office door again, and only then did he turn around.
His mouth was open, his wide eyes blinking. It took him a little longer before he said, “I’m sorry, what did you say again?”
Ethan met his gaze. “I said I’ll do it. On my terms and my own way. But I’ll tell the truth about who I am and get back in front of the camera as the face of Gamers.”
Grant loosened his tie and flopped down on the leather chair across from Ethan’s desk. “Jesus Christ, man. Being your friend is fucking exhausting.”
Ethan smiled. “So what do you think?”
“Is this because of our argument Friday? Did I badger you?”
He held his arms out to the side. “Do I look badgered?”
Grant looked at him thoughtfully. “No, you look…happy. Actually. What the hell is going on?”
“So, I thought about what you said. And then I had a conversation over the weekend with someone special, and she said…well, she said a lot of things, but every one seemed to settle all the scattered puzzle pieces in my brain. The picture of my life is clearer, and I don’t like how it is now. So I need to take steps to get to where I want to be. This is the start of that.”
Grant’s eyebrows lifted. “Who is this special someone?”
Ethan cleared his throat and picked up a pen, tapping it against his desk. “The photographer that was in here?”
“Lissa?”
Ethan nodded.
“Really?” Grant said. “Wow. How did that happen?”
Ethan kept it simple. “The wedding.”
“Oh, right, she took photos there, too.” Grant leaned his chin on his hand. “Huh. Good for you. Didn’t see that one coming. But sounds like she’s great for you, man. Have you told Chloe?”
Ethan shook his head. “I’ll come over one night this week or over the weekend, all right?”
“Yeah, sure, she’d like that. She just wants you to be happy.”
For once, Ethan could answer that with something positive. “I’m getting there.”
Grant rubbed his hands together. “So, no more soul-deadening talent search? You’re really going to do this?”
“Okay, don’t get that evil glint in your eye, Scorsese. I told you—my terms. My way. You want me behind that camera, I call the shots. And I think it’s worth it, since I’m really the most experienced and high profile candidate we’ve found.”
Grant laughed. “You know, normally I’d tell you to shut up, but I kind of love this confidence in you. Damn right, you’re the best choice. Why do you think I was such an asshole about it?”
Ethan resumed tapping his pen. “I thought at first that it might have been Chloe’s voice in your ear. But you seemed so adamant about it, and you care so much about this magazine, I know you want what is best for it.”
Grant nodded with a jerk of his head. “I do, and you’re the best for it. You have been since you’ve been involved here.”
“I, uh, did watch some of my old videos.” Ethan cringed.
“Oh yeah?” Grant asked.
“I said some dumb shit.”
Grant scoffed. “You were young. Cut yourself a break.”
“Grant, I nominated a game as my Top Dawg. Spelled D-A-W-G on the screen.”
His friend whistled. “Oh, that’s bad.”
“So bad.”
“That’s like, as nineties bad as the name E-Rad.”
Ethan groaned. “I will not go by that name again. I’m over thirty. That’s just embarrassing.”
“How about E-Rogaine?”
“Shut up.”
“E-AARP”
“I’m not that old.”
“E—”
“Shut. Up. Grant.”
His friend walked out of his office, whistling and pumping his fist in the air.
Ethan shook his head and tamped down the nerves that crawled over his skin like ants. He could do this. He had Grant and Chloe and Lissa at his back. With that support system, what could go wrong?
Chapter Fourteen
Ethan knocked on the door to Lissa’s studio and gripped the paper bag holding their dinner tighter. He was surprising her with panini and soup from the deli down the street. She’d mentioned a couple of times how much she liked the food there. And really, it was an excuse to see her. The last time he’d seen her was when she’d stopped by his house Monday night to watch his old videos with him. And make fun of him. So now that it was Friday, he had every intention of seeing her.
A young man opened the door, and Ethan assumed he was her assistant. He wore a coat, his book bag was hitched over his shoulder, and he seemed to be on his way out. His gaze settled on Ethan’s face, and then his expression brightened. “Oh, are you here for Lissa’s project?”
He blinked. “The project?”
“Oh.” The man’s cheeks colored. “I saw the”—He waved a hand at his throat and jaw, in the same position where Ethan’s scars lay on his own skin—“and thought she was taking pictures of you for her project.”
Ethan didn’t say a word, and the man ducked his head. “Shit, I mean. Uh, never mind.”
“I’m here to see Lissa,” he said, still unsure what this conversation was about, because he seemed to be missing a large piece.
“Oh, okay. She’s in the studio finishing up with a client, so you can wait in her office.”
Ethan nodded and murmured a “thanks.” The man brushed past Ethan, and he turned to watch him as he hurried down the street, hunched against the cold. Then he turned back to the open door of the studio, his mind racing. Why would he see Ethan’s scars and assume he was part of some project?
Ethan stepped over the threshold and shut the door behind him, then strode down the hallway. To the left, he glimpsed Lissa in the studio taking pictures of a young woman sitting on a stool. She glanced up at him, surprise in her eyes, and he held up the bag. “Take your time, I’ll be in your office.” She waved him off, taking a glance at the LCD screen on the back of her camera before resuming snapping photos.
He continued toward her office, where he closed the door behind him and sank down onto her chair. He placed the bag on a table near her desk. The unease that creeped into his veins at what Lissa’s assistant said was steadily growing.
He had no intention of going through her things, but when he placed the food down, it jolted her mouse and the screensaver shut off. And what he saw on the screen froze his breath in his lungs.
It was a picture of him.
He’d been sleeping, his face in profile in his bed. She had to have taken it the morning she’d spent the night, but he couldn’t understand why she hadn’t told him.
He turned away quickly, his breathing turning into gasping pants as he sought to puzzle out in his head why the hell she’d taken pictures of him. And that was when his gaze landed on the white board behind her desk. There were pictures of people—all showing some sort of scars—taped to the whiteboard with a notecard next to their name. One woman had burn scars on her back and her card said, “Cindy
Mathewson, 29, house fire.”
If Ethan hadn’t been sitting, his legs would have collapsed. His vision blurred and his head spun, because the white board was huge, taking up half of the wall and everywhere he looked. There was a note on the whiteboard: Website launch for Rona’s Scars. Monday.
Scarred people, his picture on her computer. This mysterious project… Everything was adding up to something that made him want to throw up.
He gripped the chair, his mind fuzzy. He should leave. That’s right. He should get up and walk out and then go home and…do something that made him forget about everyone, everything.
“Ethan?”
He spun the chair to see Lissa standing in the doorway. Her brows were furrowed as she took in his face, then her gaze traveled to the whiteboard behind his head, and the pictures on her computer. She sucked in a breath and her face paled, and all of that sent Ethan’s stomach plummeting into his shoes.
She held out a hand. “Let me explain.”
He shook his head and opened his mouth, but no sound came out, because the woman who’d pushed him to change his life, who made him happy, who got him out of this funk had been…using him? He thought she was brutally honest, but had this all been a lie? “I need to go.”
“Ethan, please,” Lissa pleaded. “You have to hear me out.”
He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I think that board explains it all. And your assistant thought I was here for your project.” He knew his lips were curling, that his words were coming out harshly. He stood up, straightening his back to his full height, hoping it intimidated her, hoping she stepped aside so he could walk out the door. “I was always a project, wasn’t I? What, help the poor scarred man come out of his shell?
But Lissa didn’t back down. She never did. She spread her arms and gripped each side of the doorway so he couldn’t leave. “You will hear me out.”
He didn’t want to, though. He knew himself enough to know she might as well talk to the wall, because he wasn’t going to be receptive. Not while those pictures of him sleeping were right in front of his face on the computer. He didn’t say a word, just glared at her.
Leveling the Field (Gamers) Page 11
