“That’s nice.” I pull out my toiletry bag, trying to inject some enthusiasm into my voice. “They’re really great.”
“But?” Ethan crosses his arms, watching me. “But?”
“No buts. They’re lovely,” I say, though my tone implies otherwise.
He studies me for a moment before he sighs and shoves his hands in the pockets of his khakis. “Is this about the Brandon thing? Because I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable, but my dad was just saying what I’ve been thinking and trying to get across to you for weeks.”
I set my pajamas on the bed with my toiletry bag—a modest cotton set I packed specifically for staying at his parents’ house. “It’s fine,” I say automatically, though it isn’t. The last thing I want to do is have our first fight when his parents are in the other room.
“You sure? Because you’ve seemed off ever since.”
I take a deep breath, suddenly feeling claustrophobic in this perfect guest room with its perfectly coordinating decor and fresh flowers. “I’m just tired, Ethan. It was a long drive, and meeting your parents was . . .”
“Stressful?” he supplies.
I nod, biting my lip as he crosses the room.
Wrapping his arms around my waist, he leans down, pressing his forehead to mine. “One day, I hope they’re more to you than just my parents. One day, I want this to feel like your home away from home.”
I swallow and take a step back, needing a little space.
He peers down at me with unmatched intensity. “Too much, too fast?”
I nod, even though I’m unsure that’s the problem. “Maybe a little.”
“Shit, Tatum, I’m sorry.” Ethan drags a hand down his face. “I’m not trying to push. I’m just . . . I want you in every aspect of my life. That’s how much I care about you.”
I soften, knowing Ethan has nothing but good intentions.
“I know.”
“Which is why I agreed with my father at dinner. I didn’t mean to pressure you about your friendship with Brandon or put you on the spot.”
The mention of Brandon’s name again makes my stomach tighten.
“I felt like you threw me under the bus.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “You could have explained our friendship to your parents instead of letting them think there’s something inappropriate about it.”
Ethan’s posture stiffens, his jaw tightening as he takes a step back. “Throw you under the bus? That’s not fair, Tatum. It’s not my fault.” His voice rises slightly. “You’rethe one who brought him up in the first place, going on and on about how amazing some ski weekend with him was. Do you know how that looks, talking about some other dude? You made me look like a fool.”
Tears sting the backs of my eyes as his words settle beneath my skin like darts. “I’m sorry, but things with Brandon and me are just—”
“Different,” Ethan finishes for me. “So you keep telling me.”
“Ethan . . .” I reach out, but he dodges my touch.
“You know, sometimes I feel like I’m playing second fiddle to him, like you’ll always prefer Brandon over me.”
“That’s not true,” I say, even though a small part of me wonders if there’s some truth to it. “Listen, part of me gets it. I mean, I understand where you and your father are coming from.”
“Do you?” His expression softens, his dark eyes melting like chocolate. “Because I’m not trying to control you, Tate. I just think when we’re serious about each other, certain boundaries make sense.”
I nod, because logically, I know he’s right. What kind of girlfriend keeps another guy as her closest confidant? Would any man be completely comfortable with that? And how would I feel if the roles were reversed?
I’d hate it.
My insecurities would run wild if Ethan had a female best friend he was constantly hanging out with and talking about. But I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do; it’s not like I can revoke Brandon’s best friend card.
“I’m going to shower,” I say, forcing a smile as I gather my things.
