Page 121 of Not Fooling Anyone

ETHAN

I should have told them.

The phrase keeps repeating in my head ad nauseam on the drive back to my place, my stomach churning.

If I had, it wouldn’t have come to this. Wouldn’t have blown up in my face the same way it did with Lexie. Mom had outright asked me what those insurance claims were about, and I wouldn’t tell her. It’s like I want to sabotage myself.

Beside me, Lexie is silent, probably wondering what else I keep secret. I don’t blame her. If I didn’t tell my own family about something like this, what else could I be hiding from her?

After an agonizingly long five minutes, she whispers, “I understand if you don’t want me to spend the night.”

My mouth opens to respond, but nothing comes out. What is she talking about?

“I’m sorry I messed everything up with your family,” she continues. “I—”

“Whoa, whoa,” I interrupt her. “You didn’t mess anything up. I did. This is on me.”

“But I—”

“Uh uh.” I reach over the center console, intertwining my fingers with hers. “Don’t think about blaming yourself for that back there. I should have already told them. Or at least given you a heads up I hadn’t. Of course you’d assume I told my family. It’s just—” I let out a sigh, not sure how to explain it. If it’ll even make sense. “It’s weird to tell people about it. I don’t want them to look at me differently.”

“It’s not your fault, though.” She brings her other hand over mine, tracing my knuckles. “Things like this happen.”

“You saw how they all reacted. I’ve always been the smart Hudson boy. Or the funny one. And lately, the boxer. But I don’t want to be the one who has a disease. I don’t want that to be what defines me.”

“It doesn’t,” she insists. “But it is a part of you. And if they love you, they’ll accept it along with the rest.”

I nod, knowing she’s right. “I’ll go back over there Sunday. Talk to them more about it. I couldn’t do it with Savannah there, though. Did you see her face when you said I was diabetic? It was like she’d won a free lifetime supply of candy.”

“She’s theworst. I don’t think her and Jordan will last much longer, though. When she found out he’s only eighteen, I thought she was going to have an aneurysm.”

I laugh, some of the tension draining from me, but my shoulders are still tight as we get to my house. Thankfully, no one is in the common areas as I lead her to my room.

“I put everything away,” I tell her as I shut the door behind her, “so you don’t accidentally see anything.” I’m not having her freak out again over the sight of a needle.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, hugging me. Her arms wrap around the back of my neck, and she quickly pulls away. “You’re still so tense. Come here.”

She pats the edge of the bed for me to sit down, kneeling behind me as she massages my shoulders, her hands working magic across my stiff muscles until the stress melts from them.

“If you ever want to quit accounting, you could make a career shift to masseuse.”

She hums a sound of contentment behind me, kneading away a knot in my trapezius muscle. “I wouldn’t want to touch anyone other than you.”

“Yeah?” I can’t help the pleasure that suffuses me hearing her say that. “Anywhere else on me you want to touch?”

“You’re incorrigible.” Though the words are prudish, she can’t hide the smile in her voice.

“Don’t act like you offering this massage wasn’t a ploy for seduction.”

She bends low, nipping at the shell of my ear. “I would never,” she murmurs in a husky voice.

My dick jumps in excitement at her playfulness, and I groan low as her mouth moves to the column of my neck, her kisses branding me, marking me for her own.

“Keep doing that,” I murmur, her hands moving down the front of my chest, exploring my torso, turning me on.

After another minute, I can’t take much more, turning around to kiss her for real, wanting to press her back into the bed and cover her with my body, but she places a hand against my chest, staying me.

“Tonight’s about you,” she murmurs.

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