A few minutes later I stepped outside and Ethan was just pulling up. I did a quick scan for Bryce’s white Range Rover but didn’t see anything. Was I being paranoid?
Better safe than sorry where Bryce was concerned.
“Are you okay?” Ethan was wearing a tight powder blue t-shirt and worn jeans. There was a bulge at his hip that I was pretty sure was a gun and he wasn’t wearing a helmet. His tattooed arms held the handlebars as he gave me a broody look. His bad boy vibes were screaming "make babies with me."
I had to address the first issue: “I’m fine. Is that a gun?”
Because I didn’t need to end up in jail with this asshole and ruin my life. He probably sold drugs on the side if his brother’s track record was anything to go by.
He nodded, cool. “Yes, bought legally, and I have a concealed carry permit for it if you’d like to see.”
Great, now I sounded like a freaking grandma. I shook my head. He reached behind and grabbed a helmet, giving it to me.
“You don’t wear one, but I have to?”
His lips curled into a smile. “Your face is cuter, we should protect it over mine.”
Holy mother, a shot of heat ran right from my chest to my pelvis. Ethan was a smooth talker; I needed to be careful with him. Shoving the helmet on, I straddled him from behind and wrapped my arms around his waist.
Sweet babies. His abs were so tight it felt like I was grabbing a bag of rocks.
What was I thinking calling him? I should have taken my chances with my psycho ex.
“Do you mind if we stop at the drugstore?” he asked. “I need to get a prescription.”
I barely registered his words; I was trying not to orgasm from grabbing his abs. How many years had it been since I’d enjoyed sex with Bryce? Too many … way too many.
“Sure,” I squeaked, and he kicked the motor and took off, causing me to hold even tighter to him.
Something happened on this bike ride. This small little five-minute ride to Walgreens made me realize something. I’d never been with a man I felt safe with. Until now. Holding on to Ethan’s tight muscles, his gun pressing into my leg, I felt … safe. It was a wild feeling, one I didn’t know I needed until now. One I wasn’t sure I deserved, which I knew was a fucked-up thought.
I need therapy.
When we stepped inside the store, I split off and told him I was going to grab some make-up. I liked to think I had a natural beauty, but who was I kidding. Everyone looked better with concealer and mascara. I stopped in front of the Wet and Wild brand before I threw caution to the wind and moved over to Elf make-up. Hailey 1.0 laughed a little inside at my level of current patheticness, but the MAC counter was now currently so far out of my reach, I’d never set foot in another Nordy’s again.
After grabbing black eyeliner, mascara, concealer, and lipstick that I could also use as blush, I felt fancy as fuck. I was making my way up to pay when I passed a row of red bikinis on sale. $7.99. I shit you not, Walgreens sold bathing suits. Angela had mentioned her apartment had a pool, and when the Arizona summer hit full blast with 115-degree days, you descended on any public or apartment pool you could. I grabbed a medium even though technically I was a medium top and large bottom. I’d rather my booty be hanging out than my girls.
Once I paid for everything, twenty bucks poorer I headed to the pharmacy to find Ethan. He was just paying when I walked up. The cute pharmacy tech stapled his bag shut and handed it to him. “There ya go, Ethan. Now get home and get that in the refrigerator.” She winked.
He nodded. “Thanks, Beth. See you soon.”
Hmm, when a dude was on a first-name basis with the pharmacy, he definitely had a pill problem. Probably Vicodin.
“I’m diabetic.” He held up the large bag to me and my face fell.
Why was I such a judgy bitch? What was wrong with me?
“I didn’t know…” I trailed off.
He made his way for the exit and I trailed behind. “Fell into a semi coma sophomore year in high school. Got diagnosed type one.”
Holy shit.
“Is your A1C okay?” I immediately went into nurse mode. I may not have started classes yet but I loved all things medical. Name a medical show and I’d watched it. I read books and medical journals for fun. I’d been on the path to going to med school when Bryce shit on that idea. He “let” me do one semester at UCLA before he deemed that it was too destructive on our relationship and hurt his own academic progress, since I wasn’t home at the same time as him. I was such a whipped loser housewife, I just did whatever it took to please him. He was still nice back then, wooing me with romantic trips and gifts.
Ethan chuckled. “Yes, Doc. It’s an even 6.0.”
Okay that was decent. I relaxed a little. “Is that insulin?” I knew that shit was expensive, even with great health care.
