He looked up, and our faces were suddenly very close.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
Heat was spreading through me, pooling low in my stomach. I was getting hard. Right here. Right now. In Ethan’s room, with him sitting there bare-chested in his pajama pants, watching me with those dark eyes.
My eyes flicked down to his lips, just for a second, then back up.
He was right there and he was gay. We could just do anything right now—Ethan was available. Not like Liam. Why was I going for someone I couldn't have?
He’s so sexy.
If I could just—if I could prove to myself that it wasn’t Liam. That it was just—that I could want someone else. Anyone else.
Please let it be anyone else.
“Ethan,” I said, and my voice came out rough. “I—”
I leaned in.
His eyes widened. He started to lean back, but I followed. My hand came up to his face, fingers brushing his jaw.
“Alex—” he said, but I cut him off.
Then I kissed him.
For a second—one stupid, desperate second—he didn’t move. Our lips met and I tasted mint toothpaste and something else, something that should have felt right but didn’t, couldn’t, because—
Ethan’s hands came up to my chest and pushed me but I didn't move.
“No,” he said against my mouth.
But I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. I leaned in harder, my other hand sliding to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Heat and desperation and the desperate need to make this work, to feel something other than what I felt for Liam—
“Alex, stop—”
I kissed him harder.
Ethan’s hands locked against my chest and he shoved much hard this time. I stumbled back, nearly fell off the bed, and caught myself on the floor, breathing hard.
“What the fuck?” Ethan scrambled backward on the bed, putting distance between us. His face was flushed—anger, not arousal. “I said no!”
“I’m sorry—” My voice shook. “I just thought—”
“You thought what?” He was breathing hard too, chest rising and falling. “That I’d just let you use me? That because I’m gay I’m just waiting around for some closeted guy to experiment on?”
“That’s not—”
“Yes it fucking is!” He stood up from the bed, putting the desk between us. Creating a barrier. “You showed up here drunk and desperate and you thought, ‘Hey, Ethan’s gay, he’ll let me figure my shit out.’ Is that it?”
“No, I—” But the words died in my throat because he was right. He was absolutely right.
“You don’t want me, Alex.” His voice was shaking now. “You want him. You want Liam so fucking bad you can’t see straight, and you came here hoping I could be your escape hatch.”
My throat closed up. “I can’t want him.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t understand. My father, the team, everything I’ve worked for—”
