Page 167 of When We Ignite
“I’m great,” I said, forcing a smile and slipping my hand from his grasp.
“So, things are good? With your dad? Oli?” he pressed, his gaze steady.
I looked away, reaching for my phone as an excuse to avoid his probing eyes. “They’re good.”
Ethan’s smile disappeared, replaced by a sharp, knowing look. “Why are you lying?”
I sighed again, this time more heavily. “Look, darling, it’s just work stuff. Nothing you need to worry about. It’ll sort itself out.”
“I’m not worried about your work, I’m worried aboutyou,” he said sweetly. “And we’re friends. You keep insisting that’s what we are. Friends talk about this stuff. Henry tells me about his work.”
“His nightclubs,” I corrected.
“No, hiswork,” Ethan repeated, his tone firmer this time. A flicker of annoyance crossed his face, and I blinked, surprised to find it directed at me.
“Pet, why are you?—”
“Because you’re mean about it,” Ethan interrupted. “You’re mean to him about his work, and he feels that, even if he hides it. Just because he doesn’t work for you doesn’t mean he’s not successful.”
A knot twisted in my chest, jealousy mixing with guilt in a way I hated to acknowledge. “I know that. He’s my brother, Ethan. I love him, and I don’t need your opinion on how to navigate our relationship.”
Ethan didn’t flinch. Instead, he took a few steps closer, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t think people tell you when you’re fucking up enough. Since we’refriends, I thought I’d chip in,” he said, his sarcasm biting.
“You’re wrong about that. People tell me plenty. In increasing increments, in fact.”
Ethan tilted his head, his cold eyes raking over my face. “I’m not telling you how to treat your brother. I know how much you care about him. You’re just insensitive about his work, and he’s told me how much it bothers him.”
My shoulders slumped under the quiet conviction of his words. “It’s a joke. He knows I don’t mean it.”
“Not everything is a joke,” Ethan said simply, throwing my own words back at me.
“Point taken, darling. Any other requests on Henry’s behalf?” I asked, a hint of bitterness creeping into my voice.
“It’s not on his behalf. He’d never ask me to tell you something,” Ethan said with a casual shrug. “I just want you to know you can talk to me about what’s going on. I know you’re upset.”
I studied him for a long moment before giving a brisk nod. “Sure, darling.”
Disappointment flashed briefly across his face, but he let it go. “Fine. I’m heading down to the gym,” he said, his jaw tightening as he turned toward the bedroom. “I’ll send you a picture after—maybe get you off—” he paused for effect, his lips twisting into a smirk, “—work earlier.”
He disappeared behind the doors, and I stood there, flustered, as his parting words echoed in my head. He was learning far too quickly how to keep me hooked.
* * *
The rest of the day passed in a blur of tension and frustration. Ethan wasn’t wrong—I’d been having a shitty week. My father had blindsided me repeatedly, cutting me out of decisions and redirecting deals I’d worked on for months. Warren, ever the loyal soldier, was by his side at every turn, wearing that smug smirk.
Oliver had turned cold toward me again, his trust in me shattered after everything with Henry and Ethan. Our last conversation on Monday had devolved into yet another argument—this time about loyalty, accusations of lying, and shifting alliances. Since then, we’d barely spoken, resorting to communicating through Aria.
I kept hoping the tension between us would ease on its own, but things only escalated. By the time my second meeting ended, Warren had informed me that another one of my investments was being blocked and redirected, effective immediately. He’d also dumped several tasks from my former role, now Oliver’s, back onto my plate.
I spent two hours trying—and failing—to get my father on the phone, my frustration mounting with each unanswered call. When I finally broke down and called Oliver, he made some snide comment about the tennis match.
I hung up on him.
When I got back to the hotel, I was in a terrible mood. Ethan greeted me with a bright smile, ready to head out and enjoy all the things I’d promised him, but I could only manage a tight, forced smile in return. I stuck it out, though, letting Aria join us as they chatted animatedly. I stayed on the sidelines, smoking and scrolling through my phone, waiting for a response that never came. Ethan kept glancing at me, concern creeping into his expression, but I avoided his gaze.
Back at the hotel after dinner, Aria left, and Ethan wasted no time pushing me down onto the couch and straddling my lap. His lips found my neck, his hands raking through my hair, but I barely responded. I closed my eyes, trying to get into it, but my head wouldn’t stop spinning.
Ethan pulled back and studied me, his fingers brushing lightly over my cheek. “Do you want to just go to bed?”
