Page 40 of Stuck with my Mechanic Daddies

“Why do you care so much?” I whispered.

Ethan’s jaw flexed, and for a second, I thought he wouldn’t answer. But then his hand moved, slow and deliberate, brushing against mine on the couch.

Not grabbing. Not demanding. Just there.

“Because I like you, and I don’t think you deserve this,” he said. “No matter what happens.”

A shiver ran through me, but it had nothing to do with the cool night air.

Because this wasn’t just comfort. It wasn’t just friendship.

This was something else.

Something I wasn’t ready for.

Ethan’s fingers tightened around mine, the warmth of his skin sending a slow, unraveling heat through me.

I should have pulled back. Should have reminded myself that this was a bad idea, that I’d already crossed too many lines with his brothers.

But when he turned toward me, his gaze locking onto mine, my breath caught.

The space between us shrank, the air thick with something heavy and unspoken. His eyes flicked to my lips, and my stomach clenched in response.

No. I couldn’t do this.

I wasn’t staying. I wasn’t getting attached. And I sure as hell wasn’t about to make things even more complicated than they already were.

But then Ethan leaned in.

Slow. Deliberate. Like he was giving me time to stop him.

Like he was daring me to.

I should have.

But my body betrayed me.

The moment his lips brushed against mine, soft and sure, every ounce of logic melted away.

A soft gasp escaped me as he deepened the kiss, his free hand sliding up my arm, tracing heat in its wake. He kissed me like he’d been holding back for too long, like he was tired of pretending he didn’t want this.

And damn it, I kissed him back. Because it felt right.

Because the way he touched me wasn’t demanding, wasn’t possessive—it was something else entirely. Something that made my heart ache.

But then Mason’s hands flashed through my mind. Owen’s mouth against my skin.

I broke away, my breath unsteady, my head spinning.

Ethan’s forehead rested against mine, his breathing just as uneven as mine.

“Aurora,” he murmured, his thumb tracing slow circles over the back of my hand.

What the hell had I done now?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Aurora

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