Page 45 of Big Balls
My dad snorts.
Okay, it’s way past time to intervene. I know I had to have some self-care time, but if I don’t defuse the situation, one or the other of these two macho men is going to start a fight.
“So, Mr. Alexander, what brings you to our humble abode?”
Beside me, my father stirs, ready to deliver an entire lecture about how his house is paid for and in good repair, etc., but I stop him with a gentle hand on his. The merits of our home are not up for debate. The issue now is whether Ethan Alexander is going to be allowed to remain in our house for much longer.
His eyes move away from my father and catch mine. “Zoe, I wanted to apologize for the other day. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that, but—”
I cut him off, my hand slicing through the rest of his sentence. “Sure you should have. You were being honest, not hurtful.”
My father stirs again, like a volcano that is about to erupt with a steady stream of dad rage lava. He definitely knows that I’ve been lying in bed and feeling sorry for myself, and he’s also clearly done the math about who the culprit is.
But I’m not some little kid who needs her daddy to rescue her. I’m going to handle things with Ethan like the grown-up I am, and I think I’m doing a damn fine job of it already.
Ethan stares at me, then presses his lips together into a narrow line. And for this one moment, I allow myself the luxury of remembering how soft his lips were on my body and how skilled he was with his tongue too.
My breathing picks up, and I swear the man has some sort of bionic, superhero level type hearing because he definitely notices. He folds his hands on the counter and gives me another deadly look.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I reach out with my other hand and cover his giant hands with my own tiny one. I have such a strong love-hate relationship with the difference in our sizes. There’s something so appealing about how tiny I feel when we’re touching each other, but it would be nice at times like this to feel like we were on a more level playing field.
“You didn’t hurt me,” I lie, not breaking eye contact. “You were doing exactly what we discussed. Talking to Katy about our relationship.”
My father stands abruptly, scraping his chair back with a loud screech. “I’ll leave you two alone to figure this mess out.” But then he crosses over to where Ethan is sitting and gets right in his face. “But I swear to you, if my Zoe is crying again before you get out of my house, I will break every bone in your right hand.”
I blanch. I know he’s more likely than not making an empty threat, but it definitely sounds vicious and believable. My father lives to make his team work out until they vomit every single season for that entire first week. Then he laughs about it, like an actual monster. “Docile as lambs afterwards.”
I know he seems sweet, but the man didn’t get to where he is now without cultivating his own sadistic streak and nurturing it into full bloom.
Ethan nods, meeting my father’s angry glare squarely. “You have my word, sir.”
Then, grumbling hard, my father leaves us alone.
After a moment, I remember to let go of Ethan’s hands. “Sorry about that,” I manage.
“About your father? That’s exactly how I am about my Katy, so I get it.” His beautiful lips curve up into a half smile. “Or were you talking about us holding hands just now?”
I flush at his words. “We were not holding hands, you jerk. We don’t do that.”
Ethan looks at me and slowly raises one eyebrow. And my stupid traitorous heart gives a flutter at the perfection of his beautiful face, but I valiantly counter it with a face full of you’ve-got-to-fucking-be-kidding-me.
“Okay,” he says slowly, drawing out the word with a question mark at the end.
“We’re going to put this behind us and go back to having adventures together. You, me, and Katy. Extremely platonic and definitely not at all a family.”
He winces at the sharpness of my tone. “About that,” he starts, and I stop staring at his face and look into his eyes.
“What now? Are you quitting on having fun with me and Katy, too?”
He squirms a little, then sits up straight. “I think it’s the only way to avoid confusion.”
I scoff. “Don’t you worry. There’s definitely no confusion going on here.” I point to my heart, but also to my breasts because I’m a little bit petty and want to remind him about what he’s missing out on.
He huffs out a breath and shakes his head. “I’m not talking about you, Zoe. I’m talking about Katy.”
I frown at him then. “I’m positive that you made it perfectly clear to Katy that there are no weddings in your future.”
