Page 37 of When We Are Falling

I bite my lip, trying to keep my thoughts from spiraling. I need to set boundaries, protect myself. But it’s so damn hard with Ethan standing so close, looking at me like that.

“So we’re just going to take this one day at a time.” His voice is soft, reassuring, breaking the silence that had settled over us.

“One day at a time.”

“And I’m here for you. Day or night. I know you’re strong as hell and don’t need anyone, but if you do, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

I want to believe him. I really do. But the fear of being let down, of being left behind, is too strong. I force a smile. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

He lifts my chin gently, his eyes locking onto mine, shadows cutting across his strong jaw, the tan of his skin. “I mean it.”

His words are tantalizing, and for a moment, I imagine a different kind of world, a different future for us both. But then I see my dad’s face the last time I saw him, the visitation he actually showed up for. The string of foster parents. Danny. Mamma Charlotte.

Reality crashes back in, and I pull away slightly.

“I need to lock up.” My voice suddenly sounds too loud in the quiet. “Better get home or my mom will worry.”

Ethan’s gaze softens. “How are your moms? How’s Charlotte? I haven’t seen her around lately.”

“She’s on a business trip.” Forcing a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll wait. I’ll walk you to your car.”

It’s pretty clear he won’t take no for an answer, and I shrug. “Okay, thanks. I just need to finish cleaning up.”

Ethan moves beside me, rolling up his sleeves. “Let me help.”

We work side by side, wiping down surfaces and putting away glasses. The silence between us is comfortable, like having sex in the middle of the bar and then working together to clean the place at the end of the day is the most natural thing in the world.

I don’t want a relationship, but this—this is nice.

Finally, I set the alarm and lock the bar, the sound of the key turning echoing in the empty space. We step outside and walk along the boardwalk to my car, where it’s parked on Main Street just outside May’s bookshop.

The summer heat wraps around us, stars twinkling overhead. We pass a couple strolling hand in hand, but the usual bustle is noticeably absent. During peak tourist season, the boardwalk would be a hive of activity.

But now, everything is quiet, subdued, the tourists staying away, the locals too worn down by the clean up. Instead of colorful lights from food trucks, children running around and vendors calling out their offerings, there’s just the empty boardwalk, the moon shining overhead, reflecting off the calm waters of the harbor, the darkness hiding the insidious oil spill.

As we reach my car, Ethan stops and turns to me. His eyes are intense, and he leans down and kisses me with soft lips, warm against mine, his hands gentle yet strong as they cup my face. Heat radiates from his body, enveloping me.

For a brief moment, there is nothing else in the world but the touch of his lips on mine, his strong arms wrapped around me. When we finally break apart, I’m a little breathless.

“I can’t wait to see you tomorrow, princess.” There’s a teasing smile on his lips. “But remember, I don’t want a relationship. Don’t go falling in love with me.”

“Ha! I’ll do my best.”

Getting into my car, glancing at Ethan as I drive away, a spike of heat gets me right in my core. Tonight was… something else.

Mom is asleep when I get home, and after washing up I crawl into bed, replaying everything that happened tonight until sleep finds me. My dreams, of course, are filled with Ethan.

The next morning I’m running late, and I dress quickly before grabbing a piece of toast off Mom as I run out the door. The summer heat is already thick, promising another sweltering day. I park on Main Street and rush toward the marina, my sandals slapping against the pavement.

When I finally get there, the group is already gathered in front of Ethan’s boat theFreedom, sharing Tom’s pastries, which have become a daily ritual we all love. The volunteers are dressed in a mix of casual shorts, T-shirts, and baseball caps, and they’re laughing and chatting, the mood light given the circumstances, almost like they’re kids going on a field trip. I have to admit it’s nice to have a break from shoveling oily sand.

Bandit weaves through the volunteers, his blue-gray coat gleaming in the early morning sunlight, ears perked up and tail wagging as he sniffs around, occasionally stopping to beg for scraps. One of the volunteers tosses him a piece of pastry, which he catches in mid-air, earning a round of laughter and a few more treats.

I stop beside Tom, raising a hand to wave. “Morning, everyone!”

Tom grins, all straight white teeth, holding up a croissant for me. “Morning, gorgeous. You’re just in time.”

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