Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“Do it,” Ella joked, and I hugged them both.
“You two are the best,” I said, releasing them. “I’ll be at the school tomorrow to help you with grading,” I said to Nora.
“Cool, love you,” she said, heading down the hallway with Ella.
“Love you both,” I said before shutting the door, my apartment instantly too quiet.
I swallowed hard, trying to distract myself from the anxiety tightening my chest by cleaning up my already clean kitchen. I hadn’t felt so interested in a man in years, and the last time I let myself actually fall for someone…
Being grabbed so hard I yelped, simply because I’d come home late from a girls’ night. Fingerprints left on my arm, a purple dusting that matched his hand perfectly. Broken dishes thrown in fits of rage because I’d corrected him on something trivial. Fist-sized holes in the wall because I’d embarrassed him.
God, I’d let myself believe he only acted the way he did because he loved me so much, because he was such a passionate person.
I breathed around the panic clawing up my throat, assuring my brain we were no longer in that situation, so there was no need for the damn flight response. Because that’s all I’d had when it came to him—flight. There would be no fighting him, regardless of how hard I tried sometimes. It had only made the situations worse, but when comparing my story to countless others, I’d been lucky. He’d never hurt me in a way that was drastically obvious to the outside world. Never put me in the hospital.
I’d gotten out.
He’d cried too, begged me to stay despite the fact that he’d been the one to cheat on me—the act giving me the wake-up call I needed. It showed me he didn’t treat me like that because of passion or a feral sense of love. He was just a toxic, narcissistic asshole.
And I’d fallen in love with him before I knew the truth.
Never again.
That’s why I had to stop whatever was developing between Ethan and myself. Had to stop this longing I had every damn second of the day to see him. Because that path led to nothing but heartbreak.
Maybe Ella was right. Maybe it was purely physical between us, born from the fantasies I dreamed up before I knew he was a client. It could be the same way for him, a tease left unexplored. Maybe if we gave in just once, it would all relax and be normal for the rest of our professional time together.
I filed the possibility away, resigning myself to focus more on the coaching he needed rather than what my body was begging for—my heart too, even if I wouldn’t ever admit that aloud.
“Will I ever get used to this?” I whispered the question into Brynn’s—Weston’s fiancée’s—ear.
She’d become a confidant over the last week, along with author Daisy Lewis—Asher’s fiancé. Ethan had a delightful inner circle, not that I’d met them all, but was about to tonight at yet another event. This one was black tie, so I was in my most expensive dress—a simple black one with sparkling details that hung gracefully over my strappy black heels. If Ethan had me shadow him at any more things like this, I would need to go shopping.
“No,” Brynn said, looking radiant in a midnight dress that made her look like royalty. “And I’ve been doing it for years. I’m originally from small-town Virginia, but this kind of thing is something you don’t really ever get used to.” She waved her arm to indicate the room before us—a ballroom immaculately decorated and packed with celebrities, athletic stars, and Ethan and his billionaire friends, all sipping champagne while answering questions from the intense presence of the media or mingling with all the other fancy people.
“Okay, good to know,” I said, nodding as I waved off the third offer of champagne from a server who walked by us.
Brynn happily took a glass, eying me. “You don’t want any? It’s really tasty.”
“So good,” Daisy said as she waltzed up to us. “This is my second,” she said, shaking the now empty flute in her hand.
I laughed, waving them off. “I’m technically on the clock,” I explained, my eyes easily spotting Ethan across the room as he chatted with his friends.
Asher and Weston I recognized, the other two—one with dark hair, dark eyes, dark tattoos covering his forearms, which were visible thanks to the sleeves he’d rolled to the elbow, and one with light brown skin, a five-o’clock shadow that somehow made his strong jaw look sharper, and an effortless smile that screamed trouble for all the women around him—I had yet to meet.
“That’s right,” Daisy said, nodding.
“How is that going?” Brynn asked. “If we’re allowed to ask that.”
“Good,” I said. “Ethan and I work well together,” I said, trying and failing to bite back my smile. It wasn’t a lie, despite the tension that seemed to tighten every second we spent together. It was affecting him too—I could see it every time he reached for me, but then thought better of it. Every time his eyes lingered on my lips long enough for me to feel heat melt into my core.