Page 39 of Ethan's Sky

“You’re an ass.” I mumble. He smiles around his beer, hitching his shoulder.

“You know I run when I need to relax. Why didn’t you just call?” My question is aimed at Cash.

“I do, but club shit clouded my thoughts. And…” He pulls my phone from his pocket, shaking it back and forth. “Maybe keep this on you next time, yeah?”

“Shit. Sorry. I must’ve forgot to grab it. I had my music on here.” I tell him, lifting my iPod to show him.

“That makes it all better. She’s sorry guys. She forgot there’s a killer on the loose. But it’s all good. Because she’ssorry.”Ethan’s hands fall to his sides, his nostrils flaring. “That makes everything okay, then, right?” He steps closer, not quite in my face, but close enough I can see the pulse in his neck thumping. “Both Gabe and Eli are so worried about you they’re pulling their resources to keep an eye on you while we figure George’s shit out, and youforgotto carry your phone with you,andneglected to tell the prospect you were leaving the goddamn house.” He leans a little closer. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get lost.”

From them no. From Ethan, absolutely.

Ethan's not completely wrong. I did want to be alone to clear my thoughts. But I didn’t intend to worry anyone. I just needed to run off the whirlwind going on inside of me.

“Why do you care so much Ethan? Why are you even here? You don’t want to protect me. You loath my very existence. So please, tell me whyyou’rehere.” Tilting my head and crossing my arms over my chest, I stare at Ethan, not missing how his eyes linger on my chest. I don’t budge, waiting for an explanation which he doesn’t offer.

My guess is Gabe forced him to come as punishment for the way he treated me earlier this morning.

Gabe mustn’t know Ethan as well as he thought, because Ethan doesn’t apologize for anything he doesn’t mean to. He’ll follow orders, sure, but empty words and meaningless promises aren’t in his nature.

“If Eli wants me watched after, he has his men here to do the job. Tell Gabe, thanks, but I’m fine.”

Ethan turns his rant in a different direction. Studying me from head to toe. He snarls, his eyes hard on mine, then slowly they rake over my body. I feel his gaze like a flame licking over every inch of my skin. There’s a heat in his eyes, a hunger. My body ignites with excitement.

It remembers those looks. His touch. How good it felt to be his. But he won’t acknowledge what’s flashed between us. The memory. The need. And neither will I.

Help.

“What the hell are you wearing?” he growls. His aim is to shame me. Looking to open old insecurities maybe, but he doesn’t know the woman standing before him. Not anymore.

His once heated glare now one of disgust.

I’m momentarily stunned. But quickly recover.

“Excuse me?” My voice pitches up giving way to my irritation at the intended insult and the way my heart aches to make things right and feel his touch once again.

No, Sky. We’re pissed at the hot asshole. He hates you. Focus!

Why does this have to be so hard? Why did daddy have to make this stupid plan in the first place? Why couldn’t we live somewhere else and forget everything Oak Ridge was and move on?

Because you’d never move on. Because coming home is what you’ve always wanted, and Daddy knew people here would help him give you back your life over time.

Ethan gestures with his hand over the length of my body, his eyes tracking the movement of his gesture as his brow furrows. “Your clothes,” he says. “You went for a run, alone, dressed likethat? And youlether leave the house dressed in so little clothing?” Ethan makes eye contact with Cash, his disapproval aimed at him as if he has any say in anything I do, especially what I wear. Cash smirks, grabbing me from behind, circling my waist with his arms, nuzzling my neck.

My body stiffens. Normally Cash’s touch is comforting. He’s a friend. Someone I know and trust wholeheartedly, but this feels wrong. Cash is playing games. He’s egging Ethan on. I should stop it. Push Cash off and tell them all to leave. But I still can’t seem to get my brain wrapped around Ethan’s audacity. Or why he cares so damn much.

I’m not dressed any differently than any other woman who just went for a run. There’s nothing remotely sensual about the outfit.

Fucking hypocrite!

The words scream in my head. This isnothingcompared to what Ethan has seen me wear on stage, of course he doesn’t know that, but still.

My sheer, bright pink tank top hangs low in the front, the arm holes open to my waist my black sports bra visible all around, the neckline giving only a slight hint of cleavage. Like all sports bras I wear, it’s smashing my tits down making them appear smaller keeping them well contained while I run. It’s nothing distasteful.

My shorts are the same as any other runner would wear. Sure, they’re short, but they’re meant to be.I have no idea what else to think in this moment exceptwhat the actual fuck?

I have to bite back the retort that’s sitting on the tip of my tongue, since I wear way less than this when I dance, and Ethan doesn’t seem to mind my lack of clothing then.Not. At. All.

I pull out of Cash’s grip, throwing a dirty look at him over my shoulder. He shrugs, smiling as he takes another drink from his beer, not the least bit sorry.

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