Page 18 of Recklessly, Wildly Yours

I come to an abrupt stop.

Ethan’s shirtless and if I die today, I’ll die knowing I’ve seen the kind of muscles every woman should have the pleasure of seeing up close at least once in her life.

It’s because I’m suddenly without a brain that I allow my eyes to spend all the time in the world making their way down the chiseled ridges of his chest, his abs (seriously, how many abs can a person actually have?), and down to the hypnotizing V that—

Ethan’s low rumble cuts into my thoughts. “We’re gonna find ourselves in a world of trouble if you keep looking at me the way you are.”

My eyes snap to his. “Sorry.” Honestly, where is my brain? And how can a man just steal it away like that? And also, why has no man ever managed to do this to my brain?

Before I have time to circle the rabbit hole of why my fiancé never came close to causing this state of bewilderment, Ethan’s mouth shifts into a lazy smile and he says, “Don’t be sorry.”

I truly am a bad person. This time yesterday, I was preparing to put a wedding dress on so I could marry Tucker. Today, I’m wondering what Ethan’s abs would feel like.

I decide to ignore everything that’s just happened, along with the fact a half-naked man is looking at me like he’s also wondering what it would feel like for me to touch his abs. Instead, I say, “I’d kill for coffee.”

Ethan continues smiling at me, and goodness if it isn’t one of the sexiest smiles I’ve ever been treated to. “Are you hungry too? I was just about to make an omelet.”

“No, I don’t want you to go to any trouble. I’ll take a coffee and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

He studies me for a long moment. “Does this come from your ex or did someone else fuck you over before him?”

I frown. “This?”

He rests his hip against the countertop and I wish I was not aware of that because keeping my eyes off that hip and all the skin surrounding it is a real struggle right now. “Thinking that someone making you breakfast is putting them out.”

I really have never met anyone like Ethan. “You just cut to the chase, don’t you?”

His eyes now hold mine without effort. “Life’s too short not to. It’s also too short not to let people do things for you when they want to.”

“This doesn’t come from Tucker.” At Ethan’s silence that says he’s waiting for further information, I elaborate. “It was just me and Mom for most of my life, looking after each other. For a little while, it was just me looking after the both of us. And then, it was me on my own before Tucker.” I swallow down my rising emotions. “I guess I just got used to looking after myself.”

“Even while you were with him?”

I nod.

“Fuck,” he curses softly. Then, he lifts his chin at the stool on my side of the island and says, “Sit your ass down and let me make you breakfast.”

I arch my brows. “Are you always this bossy?”

“Only when it’s called for.”

I’ve spent three years with a man who pretty much was the boss of me. Allowing a man to boss me into anything is something I’ve decided I won’t ever do again. However, Ethan’s style of bossy feels a whole lot different and I find myself pulling out the stool.

He moves into action, taking all those abs of his and that deep V of his to the fridge to gather ingredients for our omelets. It’s at this point that I realize he’s wearing the holy-mother-of-quads gym shorts of gym shorts. Before I can censor myself, I blurt, “Do you spend entire days in the gym?” Surely, he must, to have the body I’m staring at. “And do you often wear shorts like ...like that?”

He looks at me with amusement. His gaze follows mine down to his shorts. “This is a problem for you?”

“This would be a problem for any woman who’s into men.”

Ethan chuckles. “It was leg day.”

I blink rapidly because my eyes can’t figure out where to look. It’s as if they’re having a seizure right alongside the dilemma of what to do. Seriously, his shorts sit halfway up his quads and stretch over him like a second skin. They’re not a problem as such, but blatant ogling seems rude.

I stare at him. “You say that like it explains everything.” I drop my gaze again. Yes, my descent into very loose morals is almost complete. “Those shorts are so fitted. And so...short.”

As I continue to dig the hole I should consider burying myself in, Ethan turns serious, watching me like he’s figuring something out. “I’ll change.”

Once I’m alone, I chastise myself. Only I could make a scene like the one I just made. And this is on Tucker.

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