Page 43 of Stuck with my Pack
“Someone had to keep you in one piece,” he teases, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. But then his voice softens, taking on a nostalgic tone. “You know, I still think about that winter—the one when we first got together.”
My breath catches. I wasn’t expecting him to bring that up, but the memory rushes back like it was yesterday. “The one with the bonfire?” I ask, my voice quieter now.
Ethan nods, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “Yeah.” The dashboard lights illuminate his profile. “Remember the terrible evening I showed you?”
I blink, surprised by his admission. “Terrible? I thought it was sweet.”
“Sweet?” He glances at me, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Soph, I took you to that greasy diner that smelled like burned coffee and forgot my wallet. Lily had to come bail us out.”
I laugh, the sound bubbling out of me before I can stop it. “Oh my God, I completely forgot about that. She looked so annoyed when she showed up.”
“She still gives me shit about it,” he mutters, shaking his head. But there’s a faint smile on his lips like he’s reliving the memory too. “I felt like such an idiot. But you didn’t seem to care.”
“I didn’t,” I admit, the warmth of the memory wrapping around me like a blanket. “You were so flustered, but it was kind of adorable. And the way you made it up to me…”
Ethan chuckles again, his voice low. “The stargazing?”
“Yeah,” I say softly, my chest tightening, remembering what came after the stargazing. “That was perfect.”
The following silence is heavy with unspoken emotions, and I find myself staring out the window, trying to steady the swirl of feelings inside me.
“You know,” I say after a moment, my voice hesitant, “I used to sneak into your house after those bonfires.”
Ethan’s eyebrows shoot up, and he glances at me with a mix of surprise and amusement. “Oh, I remember. You weren’t exactly stealthy.”
“I was stealthy!” I protest, laughing despite myself. “You’re just impossible to sneak past.”
“Not as impossible as Lily,” he says, a wry grin tugging at his lips. “I’ll never forget the night she caught us in my room.”
The memory hits me like a freight train, and my cheeks flush with heat. “Oh, my God, that was mortifying. I thought she was going to tell your parents.”
“She would have if I hadn’t bribed her with half my savings,” Ethan admits, his grin widening.
“You paid her off?” I gasp, staring at him.
“Of course I did,” he says, his tone casual. “She walked in on us with your shirt half off and my hands all over you. I had to do something.”
I groan, burying my face in my hands. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
Ethan laughs, the sound warm and genuine, and when I peek at him through my fingers, his eyes are crinkled at the corners, his grin unrestrained. “It’s not like we were subtle, Soph. You giggled so loud I’m surprised the whole house didn’t wake up.”
“I was nervous,” I mumble, still hiding behind my hands. “And you weren’t exactly helping.”
Ethan’s laughter fades into a softer smile, his gaze lingering on me a moment longer than necessary. “You were cute when you were nervous. Still are.”
The words hang in the air, and my heart skips a beat. There’s a weight to his tone, something deeper than the teasing warmth of our conversation. I look away, my chest tightening as the ache of what we used to have washes over me.
But as we near the inn, the lightness begins to dissipate. The truck grows warmer, the air between us thickening with unspoken tension and awareness.
I glance at Ethan out of the corner of my eye, noticing how his hands grip the wheel a little tighter, the muscles in his jawtightening as if he’s holding something back. I know my scent is swirling around him.
When he catches me looking, his gaze flicks to mine and then to my lips briefly before returning to the road. Something in his eyes—something raw and unguarded—makes my pulse quicken. The chemistry between us hasn’t faded. If anything, it’s grown more intense, simmering beneath the surface, waiting to ignite.
The truck rolls to a stop in front of the inn, the engine idling as I gather the grocery bags at my feet. I hesitate, my hand hovering over the door handle. Something about the moment feels heavy and unfinished.
“I’m making dinner tonight,” I say, my voice softer than intended. “Tyler’s joining me. You should come too.”
Ethan’s eyebrows lift in surprise, and for a moment, I think he will refuse. “You sure you want me there?” he asks, his tone unreadable.
