Page 27 of Desperate Temptations

He swallows, glancing around at nothing before looking back at me. “I spent the last six months in therapy. My mind was all kinds of fucked up, but I needed help to sort it out.”

Nodding, I try to control my breathing, not daring to hope that he’s here for anything but to apologize and we can move on.

“Did it help?” I ask.

He shrugs and I grin. A weak laugh escapes him.

“Kind of. I don’t know, I don’t think I’m going to quit anytime soon,” Ethan says. His eyes drag down my body and back up to my face. “But I did figure out one thing.”

My eyebrow raises, my heart squeezing painfully in my chest. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“That I don’t want to live a life without you in it.”

Air whooshes out of my lungs and I clench the flowers tighter as he steps closer.

“And not just as friends. I think that’s why I ran. I wasn’t ready to admit to myself that I love you too. And I think a part of me always has.”

I swallow, remembering the pain of waking up alone that morning in London.

Ethan’s eyes watch me with despair. “I’m a coward, okay? You said you loved me and it scared me after everything I had just been through. But I didn’t hate it either, I just didn’t know what to do.”

I lick my lips. “I understand, Ethan. I do, but waking up… and you were just gone. And I was blocked.”

He winces. “I was afraid if I heard from you, I would turn right back around. And I needed time to think for myself.”

“I would’ve given you the time…”

“I’m not sure I would have taken it,” Ethan says with a sigh, looking away from me.

My eyes track to the coffee table. “So first date, huh? And you show up with flowers, romantic lighting, and gifts. How ever will you top it on our anniversary?”

His attention snaps to me, his eyes wide with hope and amusement. “They’re not what you think. Like I said, I had a lot of time to think over the past year and I realized something.”

My eyebrows raise, my attention fully hooked. “Yeah? Well, don’t keep me waiting any longer. I’m starting to like all these epiphanies.”

He grins, moving to the boxes and grabbing the smallest one. It looks big enough to hold a watch, but he opens it and pulls out a baseball. Ethan tosses the box and holds it up for me to take. I turn it over, expecting some player’s signature on it, but it’s empty.

“When we were sixteen, you took me to my first baseball game,” he says and I inhale sharply, clenching the ball tighter. “It wasn’t a big deal to you because your grandpa took you all the time, but it was to me. And god, you made sure it was the best day ever. Getting us the best seats, all the snacks and sodas I could ever want, and then you caught a foul ball. You didn’t think twice before handing it over, and I remember thinking… god, if that had been me, I would have never given it away.”

“I figured I’d always have another chance,” I rasp, my throat aching with emotion.

He nods. “Yeah, I know. You were also selfless like that. I think that’s the first time I felt like you meant more than just a friend.”

My lips quirk a bit. “Like a brother?”

He shrugs. “Maybe, or maybe I was a little confused back then, thinking I could only possibly love one person.”

I clear my throat and look back at the baseball, then at the other gifts. “You kept it all this time?”

“It means a lot to me.”

“What’s in the other boxes, Ethan?”

He lets out a soft laugh before opening another one revealing my letterman jacket. My mouth drops open.

“I thought I lost that.”

Ethan’s fingers flex around it, as if he’s having trouble parting with it. “When we went camping those two days before you left after graduation, you lent it to me when I couldn’t find my hoodie. It smelled like you for weeks after.”

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