Page 71 of The Summer We Played Pretend

"Look," he starts, running a hand through his hair, "Chloe explained what happened with this fake boyfriend crap—”

“I was just—”

“And I still don’t like any of it.” His jaw hardens.

“I get it, Ethan. I do but—”

“I don’t like the idea of you messing around with her.”

"Didn’t we already discuss this? I was never messing around with her. You know that.”

"Do I?" Ethan snaps back. "I don’t know, Jackson. This whole thing sounds pretty messy to me.”

"Tell me about it," I mutter under my breath. But Ethan hears, and his glare sharpens.

“I might not have been here, but I know Brendan completely wrecked her and you’re not making things any better.”

His words hit like punches, one after the other, each landing square in my gut. I don’t know what stings more—the implication that I might hurt her or the fact that deep down, I know I already have.

I try to think of some sort of defense to fire back but nothing comes out.

"Chloe isn’t happy. And that’s on you.” His brows draw tight, his gaze boring into me. "You got anything to say for yourself?"

I look down at the concrete driveway beneath us, cracked and stained with years of oil spills, and let out a slow breath.

"Look, you’re right," I say. "About all of it. About the pretend shit being weird, about how confusing this whole thing is. And yeah, about Chloe." Her name catches in my throat, but I push through. "I’ve made a mess of things. I know that."

"None of this was supposed to happen," I continue, shaking my head. “It was just an accident, a way for me to protect her while you were gone. I want to help. And, man, I swear, I didn’t plan for it to…to feel real." The last part slips out before I can stop it, and my chest tightens when Ethan’s frown deepens.

"Jackson…" he starts, but I hold up a hand.

"Let me finish," I say, meeting his gaze head-on. "I care about her, Ethan. A lot. And yeah, I messed up—big time. I shouldn’t have rushed into things, especially with a history like mine, and I should have been honest with you from the beginning.” I ease out a long breath. “The truth is, I’ve cared for Chloe for a little while now, and not just as a friend.”

His expression shifts—not softer, exactly, but less like he’s about to deck me. I take that as a sign to keep going.

"Chloe’s been through hell this summer. I know that. And you were right about me adding to that.” I smirk. “We both know I’m lousy at relationships and Chloe has a bright future ahead of her. We both know I’m not the man for her.”

For a few moments, he stares at me, and I meet his gaze, refusing to shy away. Ethan was the one guy I could always turn to, even when I was being a drunken idiot, and I owed him honesty from the beginning.

His stance softens a little and he runs a hand over his face. “I get it, Jackson. I do. You’re not a bad guy. Hell, you’re one of the best people I know." He hesitates, his eyes flicking to the horizon like he can’t look at me when he says what’s next. "But Chloe…she’s different. She’s not just anyone."

"She’s your sister," I say quietly, finishing the thought for him.

"Yeah," Ethan says, exhaling sharply through his nose. "She’s my kid sister, man. And after Mom’s work picked up and Dad sank into his depression, it was mostly me making sure she got fed, got to school on time, didn’t wreck her life hanging out with the wrong crowd." He shrugs. “I’m protective. Maybe too much. But I’ve been looking out for her since I could reach the top shelf to grab the cereal she couldn’t."

My throat tightens as his words sink in. I knew parts of this—I mean, we’ve been friends long enough that I’d picked up on how much responsibility Ethan carried—but hearing it laid out like this? It hits different.

“I know you’re close and I never intended to get between that.” It sounds lame but I don’t know what else to say.

“Chloe’s a people pleaser,” Ethan continues. “She’s got brains, but she can’t help herself. She expects everyone to be as nice as she is, and she can’t help but go out of her way to help anyone. That leaves her vulnerable.”

“I know, Ethan, though I think you need to give her more credit. She’s done some pretty tough shit this summer.”

"She looks up to you, man," Ethan says finally, quieter this time. "Maybe more than you realize. And if things blew up between you two—" He cuts himself off, shaking his head again, his mouth pulling into a frown. "I just don’t want to see her hurt again. That’s all."

I realize Ethan isn’t mad anymore—not really. But the concern radiating off him is almost worse. This isn’t anger—it’s fear. Fear for her. For Chloe. And somehow, that makes me feel lower than any punch he could’ve thrown.

“I never want to see her hurt, either.”

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