He points at me. “Get in the car.”
I raise my eyebrows and burst out laughing. “Are you for real?”
“Who do you think you are, talking to her like that?”
Ethan slips off his bike, puffing out his chest as he steps toward Lane. I slide one foot to the ground, set my helmet down, and barely have time to blink before Lane’s hand grabs my arm, moving me to the side. A moment later he’s pulled me behind him, still holding me tight, as if to protect me from serious danger.
“Get back on that piece of shit and get the fuck out of here,” he growls at Ethan.
His fingers are still digging into my skin, his hands shaking so hard, I can almost feel his pulse.
Ethan steps forward. “Let her go.”
“Lane, you’re hurting me,” I murmur as I try to wriggle free.
He looks down at my arm, and then up to my eyes, and what I see shining back at me knocks the breath from my lungs: pure rage, mixed in with fear. His pupils are dilated, his eyes shimmering with a terror that I don’t understand. His breath is coming hard between us, and I can’t hold back. I place a hand on his cheek. His eyes are locked on mine. The air between us has never been this charged.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper.
“Go and wait for me in the car, Lois—”
“But I—”
“Please.”
It’s not an order. Not a suggestion. He’s begging me. There’s a knife twist to my gut.
“Okay.”
When he finally releases my arm, I take a step forward. Ethan is blocking my path.
“Lois?”
Lane pushes him back. The air reeks of testosterone.
“Lane, cut it out.” I yank on his jacket. “How aboutyouget your ass over to the car!”
“You can’t—”
“Now!” I stamp my foot.
We stare each other down for a few long seconds, until finally he gives way. Before he leaves, Lane jabs a finger at my water aerobics instructor.
“She’s not getting on your bike, ever. I see this happen again, I’ll smash your fucking face in.”
On that note, Lane strides off, leaving me standing there rubbing my eyes and shaking my head.
“I’m sorry, Ethan.”
“Is that your boyfriend?”
“No. Just a friend. I have no idea why he reacted like that.”
“Either he likes you, or he has a serious problem with this.” He nods at his bike.
I scoff, glancing over my shoulder. “Lane isn’t interested in me. I’m really sorry, this is so awkward. I hope you’re still okay with me coming to class…?”
“Of course.”
