Page 43 of My Enemy, My Obsession

“Very much. And if this Moore’s thing doesn’t work out, my friend will still mentor you. I’ll open doors for you.”

My hands fly up. “No. No, see, this is what I didn’t want. I don’t want you to think I am here because of something you can do for me, Ethan. I’m not. I got the Moore’s invite to Hawaii without you. I can make my own path.”

“I can’t not help you, Sofia.”

“There are ways to help me that do not require you to open doors for me. For instance, give me advice and cheer me on, but don’t do it for me. I’m making my own path. I want to know I earn what I get. And God, oh God, please tell me this isn’t all charity—”

“It’s not. It’snot.Nothing before you is going to be easy or free. The six-week mentorship you landed will be hard as hell.”

“You mean, the mentorshipyougot me?”

“By showing your work. Your work is why you got the mentorship.”

“Really?” I ask, a thrill inside me at this honor.

“Yes. But this is not an easy path to take. You’ll work for every bit of praise you get, and if you earn the endorsement, you’ll be made. If you do not, you’ll struggle to overcome it. And you need to know that.”

“I can live with all of that. Happily and eagerly. But Ethan, it’s very important to me that I earn my place in life, and you don’t make it for me. One is not the same as the other. I appreciate your help, but I need this for me. And I think I’m here right now because, deep down, you know that’s who I am, and you need that from me. I’m not here for what you can do for me. I’m here because—because of what I feel when I’m with you.”

His eyes darken, and there is a pulse in the air between us. “What do you feel when you’re with me, Sofia?”

The one word that comes to me is exactly what I say. “Alive. You make me feel alive.”

His expression softens, and he cups my face and stares down at me. “God, woman, what are you doing to me?” He brushes his lips over mine. “You make me feel alive, too, baby. I better shower. We have breakfast reservations.”

I nod, and he stares down at me several more beats before he steps away. I watch him undress and step inside the shower—a perfect display of male beauty. I’m terrified of how hard I’m falling for him, but I ampowerless to stop the fall. I’m there. I’m so there for this man. I know he’ll hurt me. I know I’ll be destroyed.

But I can’t seem to care anymore.

Chapter Thirty-Six

There is an intimacyto getting dressed and ready for the day with Ethan that far exceeds anything else we have done together. The random touches of our bodies. The way our eyes collide in the mirror. I’m still in my robe, finishing my make-up, when he steps beside me in front of the mirror, looking all hot businessman in a starched white shirt and his suit pants, his jaw freshly shaved, his eyes a brighter blue than usual.

His tie hangs loose, and when he reaches for it, I slide in front of him. “I’ll do it.”

He casts me in a heavy-lidded stare for several beats before his hands fall away. With deft fingers, I tie the perfect knot and run my hand down the silk to smooth it. “Perfect,” I say, and when I would step away from him, he captures my waist and holds me steady.

“How’d you learn to do this?” There’s an odd sense of accusation in the words I don’t understand and choose to ignore.

“My mother used to do it for my father, who I always idolized. I wanted to learn, so mymother taught me.”

There’s a slight narrowing of his eyes, a thoughtfulness to him with it before he says, “Do you know how few people I know who actually have a good relationship with both of their parents?”

“Too few, I assume,” I conclude, “which makes me sad. Maybe money is a factor? Money does tend to become king. We were comfortable, but not rich. We had little family traditions and looked forward to time together. We still do. My father and I have little things we do together that I love and look forward to.”

“Such as?”

“Bowling the first Saturday of every month,” I answer easily, a smile inside me just thinking about me and my father competing mightily for the best scores, and laughing through it all.

There’s a surprised look on his face. “Bowling?”

“Yes,” I say with a smile. “Bowling. Do you know how?”

“I have to say, it’s been a long time.”

“You have to change that. It’s a great way to take out your frustrations. You get to throw things and hit things. You can imagine the pins are the people who pissed you off. It’s cathartic.”

“Yes,” he laughs. “I suppose it could be.” He sobers and shifts back to the original topic. “I don’t know if money is the problem. I think like minds surround themselves with like minds.”

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