“Fair enough. Did you all come here together?” I ask, feeling a little left out.
“Not really. We just found each other while we were walking around,” Barrett says quickly.
“This is my favorite song!” Thing 1 suddenly says as a Justin Bieber remix starts to play. I hold back my eye roll and watch Thing 2 join her friend in busting out the weirdest of moves.
Barrett gets oddly close to me, leaning down to say, “Want to go somewhere a little quieter?”
My eyes move over his shoulder to find Ethan’s eyes on us—on me. For a brief moment, I think I see a glint of anger or jealousy take over his expression. Strange.
“I’m good, thanks, Barrett. I’m actually getting ready to go,” I tell him, letting him down as gently as I can.
“You’re always leaving. Why don’t you stay a little longer?”
My excuse rolls easily off my tongue. “I’ve got class tomorrow.”
He shakes his head. “Whatever,” Barrett says in a clipped tone as he walks away from me and joins the girls. In a heartbeat, his goofy smile is back as he flirts with them.
“So, you’ve got to go?” Ethan asks, seemingly disappointed.
“Yup.” Short and to the point, that’s how I’ve got to keep it with him.
“Midnight?”
“Huh?”
“Cinderella had to leave the ball at midnight.”
Oh. “I guess so,” I say, playing along.
“Got anything to leave behind for your prince to find?”
“Nope.”
“Let me walk you out,” Ethan says, his hand sliding into mine as he walks ahead of me toward the exit.
I try to pull away, but his grip tightens. “You don’t need to.”
“I want to. It gives me a chance to see if you drop anything useful.”
I roll my eyes at the never-ending Cinderella references.
“Don’t count on it,” I murmur.
“How about your number?” he asks, opening the front door. The street outside is still as lively as ever.
“Maybe one day,” I tease.
“That’s better than never. How are you getting home?”
“Cab.”
“I’ll wait with you.”
“It should only take a second,” I respond, extending my arm and hailing the closest yellow cab.
Ethan opens the door for me, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “You look beautiful,” he says and I feel my heart flutter in response.
This is dangerous.
This is bad.
This is not how I should feel.
“Thanks.”
Leaning in, he presses a feather-light kiss against my cheek. “Have a good night, Princess.”
“Goodnight,” I breathe.
“Gracey.”
I stiffen at the sound of Ethan’s voice, and glance around to see him walking toward me, that cocky strut I’ve come to recognize as purely him—purely alpha male, because that’s what he is.
He grins at the doorman as he passes. “Hello, Mr. Harrison.”
I open the door and immediately get assaulted by an icy wind straight to the face. I have no desire to speak to Ethan. He’s been in my thoughts every day since our first volleyball game, and even now, I can feel my cheeks flame as I recall the dream I had of him last night…
Hands roving all over my body. His mouth on mine. His hard body pressing me against him. And me…I welcomed him between my thighs. I wanted to feel his hard cock inside of me, moving inside of me.
I’d jolted upright in bed, my whole body thrumming with a need I had no right to feel. I couldn’t think of him in this way. I just…couldn’t.
“Hold up,” he calls, but I just quicken my steps. I shouldn’t be thinking about him the way I have been. Why can’t he just wave at me like he’s been doing all week?
“I’m running late.” The lie rolls off my tongue easily. I just can’t deal with him.
“We’re going to the same place,” he says, catching up and matching my pace.
“Do you need something from me?”
The corner of his mouth turns up in a grin. “Can’t I just want to talk to you?”
“Why?”
We’re forced to separate on the sidewalk to let a woman with a stroller pass, and I’m given a moment to breathe.
“I want to get to know you more.”
I look at him from the corner of my eye. “You met me a week ago. How could you already know you want to get to know me?” I have no patience for anything that tries to derail my focus. I have one goal. I will accomplish it without any distractions.
“You’ve got fire behind your eyes, Gracelynn,” he muses softly. “I’m intrigued.”
My voice is whip-like when I say, “Good for you.”
He stops and asks, “What’s your problem with me?”
“I don’t have one.”
“Then why do you keep avoiding me?”
“I’m not avoiding you; I’m ignoring you. There’s a difference.”
“Why?” he asks, striding forward, crowding me until I’m forced to take an unsteady step backward. I immediately feel the wall of a building behind me. I peer up, up, up into his gray-flecked blue eyes, feeling myself falling over the edge.
I bite my lip. “Because I have a feeling you’re bad news,” I tell him. “And I don’t have time for friendships. I’m here to study. That’s all.” Maybe that will get him to stop trying to befriend me.
He scoffs. He actually scoffs. “Is this because I stole your shot in the game?”
“No!” I’m more concerned about the less-than-platonic thoughts I have about him. “I just get the feeling you’re not harmless.”
He studies me with a predatory gaze for a long minute, and when he reaches out to tuck a stand of my hair behind my ear, my eyes slide shut. His fingers—hot and slightly calloused, as if he was no stranger to hard labor—glide down the side of my neck, lingering there. “You’re not wrong about that, Gracey,” he mutters. The sound of my nickname in his husky voice makes me squirm. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Ever since I saw you in the men’s room at Bar Review, you’ve been on my mind.”
I stare at him. What?
“I wondered what you would have done if I’d pressed you against the wall and kissed you…” His fingers inched lower, brushing against the swell of one of my breasts. My nipples tighten in response, and judging by the wicked smile on his face, he knows it. “If I’d touched you, here.” He cups the same breast and I can’t help the moan that escapes my mouth. “What you’d sound like.”
Shit. Shit. Shit. I can’t let his happen.
He must feel me stiffen because he steps away immediately, his blue eyes wide for a split second before his expression settles into his usual cockiness.
“But you’re right, Gracelynn. I am dangerous. Then again, isn’t that half the fun?”
He leaves me with a wolfish smile and my shredded self-control.
I can feel him beside me, like a shadow, like a reminder of what I could have if I just allowed myself to fall under his spell. I tamp down my lust, allowing my irritation to surge.
“Are you going to follow me home at the end of every game?” I ask.
Ethan only grins. “I literally live in the same building as you.”
A huff escapes me. “You could take a different route.”
“You could stop being so stubborn,” he retorts with a chuckle. “I don’t know why you’re refusing to acknowledge this chemistry we have.”
“There is no chemistry, Ethan.” But even as the words leave my mouth, they taste bitter. There is chemistry, and it’s so strong—but there has to be a way to get past this. He’s off limits. He’s forbidden, but I’ll be damned if that doesn’t make me want him more.
“Why are you denying it? I don’t see a ring on your finger.”
I glance down at the offending digit. “That’s got nothing to do with it.”
“So what’s the issue? Yo
u want me. I want you. We’re two consenting adults. You’re just being stubborn.”
My anger flares, hot and bright. “My stubbornness has nothing to do with this.”
Ethan’s eyebrows rise. “It absolutely does. You’re refusing to speak to me because you think I’m trouble.”
“Well, you are.” More trouble than he’s worth. Ethan and his damn blue eyes and dark hair could ruin everything if I don’t keep myself in check. I can’t deny I want him, and if he catches me at the wrong time, I’ll give in to him and his charm.
His expression grows stony. “Whatever you’ve heard about me, it’s not true.”
I realize I’ve hit a nerve and I feel like shit. I face forward again, expecting him to stalk away from me, but he stays. He stays but remains silent until we reach our building.
“I’ll see you later, Gracelynn,” he murmurs, punching at the elevator button with an angry jab. I say nothing as I head to the stairs, his words a weight on my mind.
***
“Are you ready to face the truth yet?” Ethan asks, sidling up beside me as I walk along the footpath toward the law building. It’s one of my only evening classes, and the crisp New York City air stings my lungs as I keep moving. Sparing Ethan a glance, I find that same easy expression back on his face, no hint of the anger I saw in his eyes a few nights ago.
“The truth?” I’m playing dumb. He knows it too, because he gives me an incredulous look.
“The truth you’re trying so hard to ignore.” With a hand on my wrist, he drags me to a stop, spinning me around to face him. He touches my face, softly, tentatively. Leaning in, he puts his mouth against my ear, and I tremble with the need to touch him, to let him touch me. This is bad for so many reasons. But I don’t pull away.
“You want this, Gracey, don’t you?”
I whimper in response, pressing my lips together tightly.
“You want me like I want you.”
Fuck. I want him, but I can’t. I can’t do this. I can’t be that girl. Against my better judgement, I lick my lips and Ethan takes it as an invitation. His mouth is on mine in the next heartbeat, his tongue stroking the seam of my lips. I open for him and he claims me completely, his tongue plunging inside me over and over again. He’s mimicking what he wants to do to my body, and my pussy starts to throb. How can he make me feel this way with only a kiss?
As if I’m not in control of my own body, my arms wrap around the back of his head, pulling him closer, taking everything he gives me and still demanding more. He grinds his erection into my belly and my eyes snap open. The spell breaks, just like that. I stumble away from him, wiping the back of my shaking hand across my mouth.
“Ethan,” I say on a whimper, staring at him wide-eyed. I know he can see the regret shimmering in my gaze. “We shouldn’t have—”
“Why not?” he demands, sliding his hands onto my hips and dragging me closer to his body. I moan at the connection, at the hardness that still lies between us. I can feel how wet my panties already are and all we’ve done is kiss. Imagine what it would be like…
“No,” I whisper, the word coming out as a croak. “No,” I repeat, louder this time. “We can’t, Ethan. I’m sorry.”
Turning on my heel, I walk into the law building, praying that the cover of darkness has hidden our actions. I can’t let that happen again. I can’t let myself slip and fall and desire that much again. As I glance over my shoulder at Ethan standing just outside the glow of a lamppost, I know ignoring the connection between us will be near impossible if he decides to pursue me.
“This isn’t over, Gracey,” he calls, and I know it’s a goddamn promise.
Three weeks. That’s how long I’ve been avoiding Ethan. I can’t trust myself to even be in the same room as him. On the volleyball court, it’s a different story. I’m there to play, to blow off steam, and although he still tries to engage with me, I find it easier to dismiss him. Outside of that though, I’ve been walking a different way home, leaving up to thirty minutes earlier to avoid running into him, and generally being as cold toward him as I possibly can.
And still, I think about that kiss. About the way he made me feel—like I had just taken my first deep breath after being held under water. How would his body feel against mine without the interference of our clothing? That’s a question I’ve wondered late at night when my skin feels too tight for my body, and my pussy throbs with phantom need.
“You done avoiding me yet?”
My head jerks up at the question. Ethan is standing in the doorway, looking like a goddamn wet dream in his jeans and fitted tee. How the hell did he find me here? I’m in one of the forgotten and rarely visited study rooms in our building, working on outlines for classes.
I return my eyes to my work. “Not really,” I respond. “What are you doing here? Are you following me?”
He laughs, and even that sound is a turn on. “No, not following you. That would just be creepy.”
“Why are you here?”
He looks pointedly at the bookbag at his feet. “Studying. What else?” My eyes narrow on his face and he smirks. “Don’t believe me?”
“You have to forgive me, but no, I don’t believe you.” My hands curl into fists on the tabletop, drawing his attention. Amusement dances in his eyes. “So do us both a favor, and just tell me what you want.”
He takes a step into the room, closing the distance between us. I brace myself. “I’m waiting for you to finally give in to what you know you want.”
“And what is it you think I want?” A challenge.
“That’s for you to know, and for me to make happen. That is, when you finally admit it to yourself. I’ll give you some time to figure it out,” he says, walking out of the room.
***
Stress. I’ve never experienced so much stress before. Playing volleyball once a week isn’t cutting it anymore, not with the pressure of finals looming over me. I need an endorphin hit, so I decide to hit the gym more often. I hop on the treadmill, plugging my headphones into my phone to listen to some random playlist. Upping the speed, I set a pace that pushes past my limits. I end up running for twenty minutes at that same speed, my legs rolling into the rhythm, my breathing evenly paced. With my heart pounding in my ears, I watch the timer count down as the belt stops. I’ve managed to run a little over two miles in my time. It’s not bad, but I used to be quicker.
Wiping the sweat from my brow, I head over to the leg extension machine, knowing my quads will hate me tomorrow. I set the machine to seventy-five pounds and continue my workout. Like with the treadmill, I get lost in the pace I set, in the movement of my body and the flexing of my muscles. I’m in the zone until I feel someone come to stand beside me. Taking the headphones from my ears, I turn to find Ethan staring at me with a devious light in his blue eyes. His gaze travels down the length of my body, not even trying to hide his overtly sexual perusal. My already heated skin flushes even more.
“So, this is how you got those fantastic legs,” he says.
I wipe away a bead of sweat from my forehead. “Are you stalking me, Ethan?”
He leans into me, placing that sinful mouth against my ear. “I might start to if I get to see you in action.”
“You’re unbelievable,” I mutter under my breath. “Do you need this machine?”
“No, I’m good. I’ll be over there,” he says pointing at the pull-up bar. I nod and put my headphones back in place. Seeing Ethan has thrown me out of my headspace. A change of music is definitely in order. I flick through the choices, glancing up when I feel eyes on me.
Ethan’s hungry stare is a tangible weight as he lifts his body up effortlessly. I stare right back at him, daring him. It’s as if we have a whole conversation without even uttering a word…
Just admit this is what you want.
I don’t.
Why are you torturing yourself?
At this point, I break eye contact—but I can’t help glancing back a second later. He smirks, and those gray-fleck
ed eyes travel down my body once more, lingering on my breasts and hips.
Well, fuck him and his games.
I return the fucking favor, openly staring at him, taking in every part of him from his muscular arms to his strong legs to the way his chest moves with every intake of breath. My gaze darts to his lips as his tongue darts out to swipe them.
The air between us feels taut, like even the slightest touch would make us snap and cause me to cross the line I’ve drawn for myself. Neither of us have resumed our workouts; he’s still standing with his arms outstretched on the frame of the pull-up bar, and I’m still frozen in place, sitting on my equipment. Our eyes are locked on each other’s, and I’ll be damned if my legs don’t want to move toward him. There’s so much promise in his gaze, promises of all the things he wants to do to me.
I’m tip-toeing on a razor-sharp edge, and when I get up from my seat, I contemplate just going over to him and letting him do whatever he wants to me. Grabbing my water bottle, keys and towel, I turn toward the door instead, leaving Ethan and the sexual tension between us behind.
“Is this room free?”
I glance up, giving Ethan a withering look. “I think you can clearly see it isn’t. Unless you’ve somehow managed to lose your sight,” I answer snidely. “Look, it’s two in the morning. There are three other rooms,” I add, gesturing to the empty spaces across from me. “Why don’t you go in there?”
I need him to go somewhere else. I can’t seem to breathe whenever he’s around. I can’t think straight, and I need to think straight. There’s more at risk here than just my heart.
“Great. Thanks,” he says, and I think for a second I won’t have to deal with him today.
I return my eyes to my notebook, waiting to hear him exit the room and close the door behind him, and when he doesn’t, I look back at him. He smirks. I roll my eyes in response and turn back to my outline. Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll get the point—like a stray puppy.
The door closes, but I know he hasn’t left because the air still crackles. He takes the seat in front of me.