I’m not done with you.
When I padded down the hall and into Ethan’s bedroom, he was lying shirtless, in basketball shorts, on the far left side of the bed. It was summer in Arizona. No one slept fully clothed, I reminded myself.
Without a word, I slipped into his gray soft sheets and lay on the pillow.
My heart was hammering in my chest, because I was still scared of Bryce, or because I was in Ethan’s bed. I wasn’t sure.
“Sorry, I’m just a bit frazzled from earlier,” I told him, embarrassed that a grown woman was afraid to sleep alone.
“Hailey.” Ethan’s voice was right by my ear.
“Yeah.”
“If he ever touches you like that again, I’ll kill him.” His breath was hot on my neck.
I knew without a doubt that what Ethan said was the truth. I let exhaustion take me then and slept better than I had in years.
When I woke up,there was something soft and warm under my face. I snuggled into the warmth until I remembered I’d fallen asleep in Ethan’s bed. My eyelids snapped open to find that I was lying on Ethan’s chest, my mouth hovering just above his nipple. His hand was wrapped around my back, resting between my shoulder blades.
Panic rushed through me and I rolled off of him. I sat up and the motion stirred him awake.
He peeled his blue eyes open, and they combed for me like searchlights.
“Hey.” He stretched casually, like we didn’t just fucking snuggle the night away.
“Hey.” I had no idea what to say.
Good morning, the last thing you said to me was that you were going to kill my ex if he ever touched me again and then I slept better than I had in years.
He sat up. “Want some eggs?”
I smirked. “Is that all you know how to make?”
“Yep.”
Standing, I adjusted my tank top, which had ridden above my waist. Ethan King had yet to try my cooking.
“I’ll make breakfast. Cooking is kinda my thing,” I told him, and sauntered out of the room.
He grinned. “Alright, I’ll take my insulin and have a shower.”
Insulin.I’d forgotten for a moment that he was diabetic. He needed to take insulin before he ate … to prepare his body to deal with the sugars.
Looking at Ethan from the outside, you would never guess there was a single weakness in his body.
* * *
Forty-five minuteslater I’d made a veggie egg quiche with a Bisquick crust. We’d just slept in bed together and now I was making him breakfast.What is going on?
He took one bite and looked at me with wide eyes. “You’re telling me you could cook like this the entire time and I’ve been ordering pizza?”
Laughter pealed out of me. “Bake. I can bake. Anything in the oven I’m good at. Stove, not so much.”
“Whatever, this needs to happen more often.” He shoved another bite in his mouth. “Like … can you make cookies and stuff?”
I was wearing a permanent grin. “Yes. Cookies, brownies, cake, anything in the oven.”
“Well, my birthday is coming up and white chocolate macadamia nut cookies are my favorite. Just saying.” He was grinning ear to ear as well.
