Page 91 of Biker's Tribute: Property of Bear

Ethan is acting weird. I don’t want to diagnose him or anything but… that man has lost his mind. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that he’s hiding something. But, I know from my training that it’s probably my “unresolved childhood trauma” from the gambling issues that run in my family… and possibly the fact that I watched Ethan gamble Mallory’s life away right in front of me… and that crazy guilt-sex we had after he got home from the bar two weeks ago.

It was guilt-sex, right? He’s never home that late. And he’s never that drunk. And he was weirdly romantic in a way that doesn’t match the hairy beast I normally go to bed with. I don’t mind the romance, it just… shocked me.

I still don’t know what to make of Ethan. Do biker dudes get married? Will he expect me to do it in front of an Elvis impersonator in Vegas? DoIeven want to get married?

If we could live like this… yes. I don’t think I would survive long without my work. It fulfills me in a way that dick just can’t. But… I would miss this. I would miss Ethan’s big hairy body taking up most of my bed. I would miss his thick beard. I would miss having someone to stay up all night worrying about.

There’s something about him that awakens my nurturing in all the right ways.

But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s acting weird. And I don’t know what to do about it.

I decide to be subtle and track his movements.

He catches on by breakfast.

“Why are you following me everywhere?” he asks grouchily while eating the breakfast I sacrificed energy to prepare him.

“I’m not doing that.”

“You watched me shower. You watched me do the laundry. You cooked me breakfast while looking over your shoulder every minute and now, you’re watching me eat.”

“Okay, detective.”

“That’s not an explanation.”

I have to break every rule of being a therapist and manipulate him.

“This accusation has racial undertones.”

“Such as…?” Ethan asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Are you denying my experiences?”

Ethan sighs. “That bullshit won’t work on me. Why are you following me?”

“I’m not.”

“Look, we could solve this like every immature ass couple in the club and I can tie you to the bed for a week until you talk… or we can talk now. Like adults.”

“Maybe I’m the one who would tie you to the bed.”

Ethan snorts. “I’d like to see you try. I could pin you to the wall with my thumb.”

Our eyes flicker to each other’s with that freaky ass sexual tension that crops up when your man threatens to physically dominate you.

“You’re the one acting weird,” I tell him. “I’m wondering if you’re cheating or something.”

Okay, I know he’s not cheating, but I also promised you that I would be manipulating my man, which is exactly what I’m doing. It’s as close to mature conversation as I can handle with this much tension and fear for the future.

Ethan scowls immediately. “I have no interest in any other women. Frankly, I find most women annoying.”

“So? You find me annoying.”

He looks at me impatiently and lies. “I do not,” he says. “I love you unconditionally.”

It’s a lie that makes me feel guilty for being manipulative.

“Ethan…”

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