Page 32 of Runaway Girl
I snorted. “I’m not a princess. I’m aqueen. I don’t need no damn knight!”
“Fine,” Ethan snapped before depositing my feet on the floor. As soon as he let go, the ground whooshed up toward me.
Solid hands caught me before I collapsed—again.
“Some queen you are,” Ethan scoffed. “You can’t even stand straight.”
Sudden vertigo had me swaying as I surrendered my weight onto him and closed my eyes for good measure. “It’s your fault I’m in this mess. You’re no knight. You’re the villain who stole me away. Don’t lock me in your castle, oh, vicious one!”
“Don’t tempt me,” Ethan said before he lifted me onto his ensuite counter, then, began rummaging around.
I refused to open my eyes, wanting to remain in the dark where the world wasn’t dizzy or complicated. Everything was discombobulated, like I was in the middle of a thick fog where everything was hard to process or reach.
Then, there was that voice—hisvoice—always ready to pull me back out.
“Shower, Ali. Then you can rest.”
I grumbled, processing the sound of running water bouncing off tiles. “I just want to sleep.”
“I know, love. Do this for me, then you can have whatever you want.”
I raised my arms, and he read the cue, slowly undressing me.
“Don’t leave me,” I said, unsure if I’d be able to remain upright on my own.
“I’ll never leave you,” he murmured, his tone light, almost reverent.
Ethan led me beneath the water, which cascaded down my back. I felt his soapy hands washing over my skin, massaging into my flesh. That’s when I stole a peek through half a lid.
We were in the shower together,naked…and he was hard—reallyhard. But that’s not what made me pause. It was his expression—his concerned gaze trained on my busted brow, never wavering down my body.
“Uh, Ethan… what are you doing?”
“Hush. Let me take care of you,” he said, quiet and soft as if he didn’t want to disturb the small cocoon we had found ourselves in.
A calming presence enveloped us, a subtle understanding that we were at a stalemate, with all our weapons left at the door.
A particular peace soon took hold as I just let everything be. For one night, Ethan could take care of me. For one night, I would let him be the custodian of my well-being.
One night.
Ethan was attentive and caring.
After he dried and dressed me in his oversized shirt, I was deposited in the middle of his gigantic bed while he ran to the kitchen.
We lay on our sides facing each other as he intermittently applied an ice pack to the injured portion of my face.
I could feel my eyes drooping and my speech lagging from tiredness. My thoughts circled one another in a jumbled mess. I felt like I was stuck in some fantasy land where I could live in that blissed illusion with my love—where nothing would ever go wrong.
“I want a doctor to check you out, Alicia.”
“No. I just want to stay here… with you. You’ll protect me, won’t you,Superstar?”
Ethan’s breath hitched at the familiar nickname. It had begun as an insult—something I called him when his obnoxious nature was out in full force. However, over time, it had soon transitioned into a term of endearment, the title always laced with fondness and a tinge of affection.
But this time, I said it by accident, my tongue loose from my loopy brain. But in using that word, I rendered him speechless. So, I took advantage, cleared my throat and attempted to change tack.
“You know I could sue you for millions of dollars, right?” I teased.
