Page 149 of One Touch

I know I said I wouldn’t get in touch, but I heard what happened with you and Vlad and wanted to check you’re okay. Elara was weird about it. Are you all right? Sounds scary. I hate Vlad, but I’m glad he’s not dead. I guess :)

I hit send before I could overthink it, then stared at my phone, willing it to buzz with a reply.

One minute passed. Then five. My stomach churned with anxiety. What if he was more injured than Elara thought? What if he didn’t want to hear from me after I’d told him not to contact me?

“Come on, Ethan,” I muttered, tapping my nails against my desk. There was no hope of me being able to focus on the manuscript, regardless of how compelling the idea of a possessed teddy bear was.

Ten minutes crawled by. Still nothing. My heart sank. Why had El gotten my hopes up, with all that talk of Ethan calling me? She was too optimistic for her own good, that girl.

I was about to give up and drown my sorrows in the morning’s five-hundredth coffee when my phone finally buzzed. My heart leaped into my throat as I fumbled to read the message. It was Ethan.

Look out your window.

I blinked, sure I’d misread it. But no, there it was. Four words that made absolutely no sense.

“What the hell?” I muttered, glancing at the window. All I could see was the usual New York skyline. Was this some kind of joke? Or had the smoke inhalation affected Ethan’s brain?

I typed back:

Are you okay? What do you mean?

No response came. I stood up, pacing the small office, my mind racing. What was going on? Elara had said I should listen to Ethan if he called. Is this what she meant?

I rose from my desk and walked to the window, hoping to get a look down at street level. As I peered down at the bustling New York street below, my jaw dropped.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God,” I gasped, pressing my hands against the glass.

There, in the middle of honking taxis and bewildered pedestrians, was a beautiful white horse. On top of the horse, looking gloriously ridiculous in full-on firefighter gear, was someone I could only presume was Ethan. In one hand, he clutched an enormous bouquet of red roses that looked like it could have doubled as a small shrub. In the other, he balanced a massive heart-shaped box of chocolates that threatened to topple him off the horse at any moment.

Ethan. Gruff, sarcastic, unromantic, Ethan. Straddling a white horse. It wasn’t even a move from a romance novel. It was far too much for that. Too over-the-top. If this had been a romantic gesture in a novel, I would have rolled my eyes and said, “Oh come on, that would never happen.”

And yet, it was happening, and it was real. And he was doing it in the middle of New York City.

Without thinking, I ran through to Mary-Beth’s office, which was in the main part of the department, and had a swanky balcony. I went onto the balcony, my heart pounding in my chest. I gripped the railing, feeling the cool metal under her palms, and took a deep breath. The wind tugged at my hair, and I felt a dizzying rush as she looked down.

“What are you doing?” I shouted.

It was clear that Ethan couldn’t hear me.

Ethan took his phone out of his pocket and mine started buzzing.

“Hello?” I answered tentatively.

"Sorry about having to call," he said. "Turns out your office is a little higher up than I thought. And trying to shout over the NewYork traffic is just . . . Anyway." Ethan’s eyes locked onto mine. Even from this distance, I could see the determination on his face. “I’m here for a rescue,” he said into the receiver.

“A rescue?” I echoed, confusion mingling with the butterflies in my stomach. “Who are you rescuing?”

Ethan’s lips curved into that heart-stopping smile I’d fallen for back in Bluehaven Beach. Or at least, I think they did. It was hard to see from up here. He shifted awkwardly on the horse. “I’m rescuing myself,” he said, his voice softening. “I love you, Lily.”

My heart leaped into my throat, and I gripped the balcony railing even tighter to steady myself.

“Lily,” he said, “I’ve loved you almost since the start. Maybe even from the start. When you crashed into my Ferrari. When you broke my washing machine. When we saw the shooting star together. But I was too damn afraid to admit it. I was terrified of getting hurt again.”

I felt tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. Ethan was laying his heart bare in the middle of New York City. For me.

“But you fixed it. You fixed me. And I’m not afraid anymore,” he declared, his voice growing stronger. “I should have never let you go. You and Ava, you’re everything to me.”

A warm flush spread through my chest. “Ethan,” I whispered.

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