Page 131 of When We Ignite
But I couldn’t.
“Then I’ll fix that,” I said, even though I didn’t quite believe it.
Henry arched an eyebrow. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, Ash. You’re way past the point of no return. Are you going to stop calling him darling? Or stop having him stay over at your apartment? You treat Ethan like he’s your princeling. Hell, you don’t even look at him the same anymore. It used to be all predator, but now it’s like you worship him.”
That gave me pause. “How do you know what I call him?”
Henry looked guilty. “We’re friends. We talk.”
“About me?”
“Nothing you’ve ever told me—just like I’m not telling you what he’s said. I’m not playing intermediary here. I listen and give advice, that’s it.”
“And what advice have you been giving him?” I pressed.
“That he shouldn’t get his hopes up with you,” he said flatly.
My teeth ground together.
“See? Why the hell are you getting upset with me for telling him the truth if you want him to know it’s going to end? You’re being a contradictory fuck about this whole thing,” Henry said, exasperated.
“Please stay out of it,” I said firmly, my tone leaving no room for argument.
He nodded but rolled his eyes. “I’ll stay out of it, but he’s still my friend, Ash. I don’t want either of you ending up hurt,” he said, his voice softer, more earnest.
“It’s too late for that,” I muttered, lighting another cigarette. I gave him a nonchalant shrug, even as the weight of my own words sank in. “This is going to end in a mess, and we all know it. I’m not that daft.”
We lingered outside for a while longer. I asked him about yesterday, but as always, Henry stayed tight-lipped. He looked slightly more composed, but it was clear he was still struggling. Seeing that made my anger toward Trent resurface, the urge to hunt him down and punch him in the face again gnawing at me.
I tried to calm myself, but it was pointless. My father’s latest move had left a sour taste I couldn’t shake. I was fucking tired of being questioned at every turn, of constantly having my authority undermined. Henry was right—I had to figure out how to move past this or be done with it entirely.
When we went back inside, I detoured to the bathroom, unsure if I could face everyone again so soon. Leaning on the vanity, I stared at my reflection, tension etched into my features. I looked twenty years older than I had last year.
A soft knock broke my thoughts.
“Ash?” Ethan’s voice came through the door.
I smiled to myself before opening it and pulling him inside by his shirt.
Ethan locked the door behind him, turning to face me. “Are you okay?”
His pale-blue eyes searched mine. They looked even lighter when he was worried, or maybe it was just the lighting. Either way, I grabbed him by the waist and lifted him onto the sink. I leaned in to kiss him, but his hands on my shoulders stopped me.
“I’m fine, darling,” I said, but he shook his head.
“I know you’re upset. Don’t take it out on me,” he said softly.
The comment caught me off guard. “Why would I do that?” I asked, resting my forehead against his.
He kissed the corner of my lips, the gesture sweet, melting some of my rage. His hands curled in the fabric of my shirt, holding me close.
“When you’re upset about work, you get offended easily. You get a little aggressive with me and then snap when I push back. It’s like you’re trying to pick a fight,” he explained gently.
I blinked, realizing he was right. I’d been about to kiss him hard, maybe more forcefully than usual, and he wasn’t into that.
“I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized,” I admitted.
Ethan nodded, accepting the apology, and kissed me lightly. “I just wanted to check on you,” he said, his voice so sincere it made me smile.
