Page 66 of Sin

For some reason, he’s also wearing a large, polka-dot bowtie. Who okayed that ugly thing? This is our wedding day, damn it. Why is he dressed like a clown?

“I can’t do this,” he says, his voice tight. “I sinned, Lily. There’s no coming back from sin. This is over. I’m choosing God.”

“No,” I whimper.

“It’s okay, sassy girl.” Ethan’s voice is now distant, echoing from the sky. The Ethan in front of me blurs and fades away, and I’m pulled into a bright room. My head is pressed against a hard chest. “The doctor should be calling us any minute,” Ethan says.

Oh, that’s right. We’re sitting in the waiting room of the campus clinic.

Damn, I must have fallen asleep. And where did that bizarre dream come from? Ethan would never marry me, even if I wanted to get married in the first place.

It was probably that sweet speech of his messing with my head.

“You taught me that I was lacking something profound. Joy.”

Oh God, I think I could marry Ethan. If it really mattered to him, I could compromise. I don’t really care much about the institution of marriage—it’s just a stupid tradition. But it’s deeply meaningful to Ethan, and that matters.

It matters—I think—because I love him.

My burning-hot eyes grow misty. Fuck, this fever is making me crazy. Ethan is already acting like a lunatic over a little fever.

He sets his hand on my forehead. A notch appears between his thick brows. “You feel a little cooler.”

I blink, attempting to focus on his face, but everything is blurred, like I’m looking through murky water. “Then let’s go. I hate going to the doctor. I’ll have to wait another eternity after they bring me into the room.”

His eyes flash with determination. “Then take another nap on my shoulder. I’m not taking you home until you see a doctor.”

I want to laugh. He’s so stern and commanding, like an army general.

It’s hot. He’s so damn caring.

And yet, he doesn’t even know what he wants from me, and here I was, thinking I could marry him.

Stupid fever.

Ethan stands up and marches toward the front desk. “How much longer?” he asks the attendant. “My girlfriend’s getting a little restless.”

My stomach flips over. Girlfriend?

“The nurse should be calling you any minute,” the girl says.

Ethan nods once before returning to his seat.

“Why did you call me your girlfriend?” I ask.

He’s quiet for a moment. “I don’t know. It just…came out.”

My already fuzzy head grows heavier and cloudier. Ethan’s never had a girlfriend before. He plans to only ever date his wife.

Did “girlfriend” really just slip out, or does it mean something deeper about his feelings for me?

A sheepish smile tugs his lips. “I’m pretty sure they already think I’m your boyfriend, because I’ve been acting like an anxious freak.”

Warmth washes over me. He is acting like an anxious freak, and I love it. He’s really worried about me.

Because I’m important to him.

Ethan’s gaze snaps to the open door when a lady appears with a chart in her hand. “Lily?” she calls out, glancing around the room.

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