“No.”
I step into his space as his feet fumble back until he’s against the wall.
I don’t waste any time because I know we don’t have any.
“What’s going on with you and your dad? And what’s with this whole other side of you? You knew more facts and looked more alive than I’ve ever seen you while you watched the game.” I’m towering myself against him, making it known that I’m not leaving until I get the answers I want.
He stays silent but his blown out irises tell me so much. Sure he’s mad, but he likes this dominating side of me, even if he’ll never admit it.
I gently place my hand on his chest, pushing him flush against the wall, then creep my hand up at the base of his collarbone, pushing a little harder.
“Answer me,” I say with a little more grit because I want him to know how serious I feel about this entire situation.
“If I do will you leave me the fuck alone?”
“Probably not.”
He sinks against the wall in defeat with an annoyed eye roll.
“My dad wants me to get my masters. For the title. So that’s what I’m doing.”
“But why do you care? You clearly don’t want to work for him.”
His eyebrows furrow. “How do you know?”
“It’s fucking obvious. You have more passion about this bathroom sink than you do about investment portfolios. And how the hell do you know so much about baseball?” His eyes saucer wide. “Why aren’t you out there playing?”
He pauses again as if the words are on the verge of flying free but he’s still holding everything back.
“Why, Ethan?” I push into him with both my body and my words.
“Because of this!” he screams, holding up his scarred hand. “I was supposed to be the number one draft right out of high school. I was lined up for everything I ever wanted. Until prom night, when that fucking accident ruined both our lives and…” He pauses, a look I can’t read flashes over his face and I can tell he’s shutting down.
“And?” I push more.
He sucks in a stuttering breath. “Now, I can hardly grip a pen, much less a baseball, and she lost the ability to speak for the rest of her life. I owe it to her to do a job that allows me to take care of her, even if I fucking hate it.”
If I know anything about Hannah, it’s that she loves wide open and wants nothing more but for Ethan to be happy. Not once has she ever indicated that she holds a grudge or feels bitter about her circumstances and I highly doubt she cares about a posh lifestyle of designer clothes and expensive cars.
“Does Hannah feel that way?” I ask him. “Does she want you to work for your father?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s the only option that makes any sense for me.” He presses his palms into my chest with a weak attempt at trying to push me away.
Smacking his hands away, I lean into him. My lips hover over his jawline between his ear and mouth. I can’t decide if I want to talk the sense into him or kiss it out of him.
This is a dead end conversation. He’s already sold himself on the idea that this is what is best for him and Hannah, even if it makes him miserable his entire life.
“Go to dinner with me after this,” I state more as a fact than a question. My lips brush his ear as I push my hips into him and he visibly shivers at the contact.
He might hate me, but his body loves me.
“No,” he breathes out.
I smirk. I knew that would be his answer.
“Fine.” I straighten myself up and step back, creating a cold distance between us.
“Fine?” His eyes take me in questioningly.
