Page 92 of Catch
“Not as surprised as I am that you want to talk about it.”
Ethan takes my hand and brings it up to his lips, peppering my skin with kisses. I don’t even know if he realizes what he’s doing.
Don’t read anything into it. He’s an affectionate guy.
“I love rimming,” Ethan admits. “Giving and receiving. You?”
“Hell yes. But not everyone’s into it. Renner never was. Or so he said. I think he was punishing me because I didn’t let him fuck me.”
Ethan rolls on top of me, blanketing my body, his hands cupping my face.
“He’s an asshole who didn’t deserve you. Any part of you.”
“Thanks.”
“I mean it, Jett. Don’t let what happened with him mess with your head. He took his insecurities out on you. He’ll do it with the next person too. It’s about him, not you.”
I stare into Ethan’s chocolate brown eyes. The flippant frat boy is gone and the man staring down at me is someone I can’t unsee.
“Maybe you’re right.”
“I know I am,” he says confidently and gives me a resounding kiss.
“For someone who’s never had a romantic relationship, you sure know an awful lot about them.”
Ethan sighs and rolls off me.
“I learned from my parents. I hate to say it but Renner kind of reminds me of my dad. There was always an excuse for how he treated my mom. He cheated and then blamed her. And then she got payback by doing the same, and the war escalated, with me and my siblings caught in the middle. I never want to repeat their mistakes.”
“Shit, that sounds awful. And you knew all this?”
“They never hid their fights or the reasons why. Arguments that continue to this day,” he confesses. “And it’s why I’ve decided I’m not going home for Thanksgiving this year.”
“Really?”
“Mom wants us in New Hampshire, but Dad’s rented a place in Maine. Either way, if I say no to one of them, it’ll start an argument, and I don’t need the guilt trip or the backlash about any of it. I’m fed up.”
“I’m sorry.”
At least his parents are alive, I think, wishing I could spend one more day with my mom.
“Shit, here I am rambling about my parents… I forgot about your mom.”
Ethan pulls me into his arms, and we lie tangled together.
“It’s okay,” I whisper.
“If you don’t mind my asking, what was she like?”
I rest my head on his shoulder, the flood of memories rising to my lips.
“Her name was Amelia, but everyone called her Amy. She loved hard and she gave the best hugs. There was nothing she couldn’t charm; people, animals, you name it. The ranch was her passion. She got pregnant with me when she was seventeen. My father was her high school sweetheart. Well, not so sweet. He took off out of town after she told him the news and he never came back, so—” I shrug. “I didn’t want for him anyway; I had my mom, and she was everything. She finished high school but decided not to go to college and stayed home to raise me even though my grandparents insisted they could take care of me.”
“She loved you.”
“She did,” I reply, my voice hoarse. “Only, I wish that she had gone to college. Maybe then things would have been different.”
“What do you mean?”
