Page 42 of Game Changer
I guess there’s only one way to find out.
Twenty- one
Ethan
After a much-needed shower, three nervous breakdowns, and a self–pep talk, I rap my knuckles against Maya’s door and hold my breath in fear that I’ll hyperventilate if I don’t.
How are guys good at this stuff? I don’t havegame. Not at all. I’m as shy as they come, so doing this? Seconds away from groveling at Maya’s feet? I’m surprised I haven’t upchucked all over the hallway linoleum.
The door swings open, and one look at Maya brings a swift punch to the gut. Her eyes are red-rimmed and puffy, and she isn’t wearing makeup. Her hair is piled up on her head in a bun, and she’s wearing an oversized T-shirt and pajama pants. This woman is nevernotdone up. Even her pajamas are silky and fancy. Knowing she’s more than likely in this state because of me doesn’t make me feel better. Ihurther, and yeah, she may have hurt me in the past, but two wrongs don’t make a right. Not in my eyes.
Still, she looks surprised to see me. I’m still holding my breath while she quickly recovers and clears her throat, darting her eyes to a box of tissues and her laptop on her bed. “What are you doing here?”
“Can I come in?” My voice wavers, a clear indication of how fucking nervous I am, but she doesn’t seem to notice. “Please?”
With a heavy sigh, she moves over to allow me to pass. I take a few steps into the room, inhaling deeply through my nose to try and get control of my anxiety. It doesn’t work. This shouldn’t be so fucking hard, but a simple task such as telling the truth feels like the world is pressing in around me. My chest feels tight. My lungs feel constricted. And I can’t help thinking howweakthis makes me. It’s fucking embarrassing.
“Are you okay?” Her eyebrows furrow before they dart down to my chest, which is currently heaving. My heart is racing, my hands are shaking, and fucking hell, I genuinely think I’m going to pass out. I’ve been on medicine for over a year now. I’ve gone through therapy to learn coping mechanisms, but no breathing exercise is going to help me with this situation. Not when this girl means everything to me. There’s a chance she could walk away again, and it scares the living shit out of me. “Ethan, what’s going on?”
“Just give me a minute,” I plead, waving my hand as if it’s nothing. “Anxiety. It sucks.”
“Oh my god. Are you having an anxiety attack? Sit down.” She pulls on my arm and forces me to sit on her bed. I’ve been a complete dick to her, and yet here she is, sitting beside me and rubbing my back in gentle strokes. I don’t deserve it. “Does this happen often?” she whispers.
I shake my head. “It used to in high school, but after therapy and medication, not so much anymore. Just, stressful situations seem to trigger it.”
She rolls her lips together before she says, “I get it, Ethan. I understand if you regret what happened last night. I haven’t treated you fairly, so if you’re nervous about breaking the news, don’t be. I’ll be hurt, but I’ll get over it.”
Like someone taking a needle to a balloon, my anxiety bubble pops, allowing me clarity again. “You think that’s what I’m here to do? To end things?”
“Um, yes? Why else would you have left in the middle of the night and proceeded to avoid me all day?” She didn’t reach out to me, either, but now isn’t the time to point that out.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt. “For everything, Maya. What happened last night was everything I’ve waited for, but I got scared that you’d wake up and change your mind. It hurt like hell when you left the first time, so knowing there was a possibility you’d wake up and regret it scared the fuck out of me. It didn’t give me the right to leave without an explanation, and I hate miscommunication, so even though it’s difficult for me to do this with the whole—” I lift my hands to show her how badly they’re shaking. “I’m powering through it because you’re worth it, and if there’s a chance youdon’tregret what happened last night, then . . .”
She arches a brow. “Then what?”
“I’m not like those guys you watch on the Lifetime movies. I can’t pull off big gestures in front of crowds or embarrass myself by holding a boom box outside your window, but I can be honest even if it’s hard for me to be. I’m scared you don’t feel the same and that you’ll change your mind about us, but if you tell me that you don’t regret last night, then I’ll show you just how sorry I fucking am, Maya, until you aren’t left with any doubts. That I can promise you.”
With it all out in the open, I can hardly look at her, afraid of what I’ll see. Instead, I focus on the empty wall where her roommates’ stuff should be, but no one has arrived yet. I feel the bed dip, and the breath stalls in my lungs when she sinks to her knees between my legs. “What are you doing?”
She places her hands on my thigh, her nails leaving goose bumps in their wake. “If I’m being honest, there is one thing I regret about last night.” I curse under my breath when she tugs at the band of my sweatpants. Her eyes are wild and devious and soher. “Stand up, Ethan.”
An order, not a suggestion.
My legs are shaking when I rise to my feet, and not because of anxiety. No. They’re shaking because I have a feeling that I know what’s about to come next, and nothing in my wildest dreams compares to the way she’s staring up at me right now.
“What do you think I regret about last night?” she asks sweetly, tugging the last barrier of clothing down. My cock springs free and bobs in front of her, and she greedily rakes her gaze over me while watching a bead of liquid drip onto the hardwood floor.
“Fuck,” I pant. “I don’t know.”
She wraps a perfectly manicured hand around my length and bats her eyes up at me, feigning innocence. “Theonlything I regret about last night is not reciprocating, Ethan, and my promise to you?” I almost fall to my knees when she darts her tongue out to lick the tip. “You’re not going to leave this room with any doubts either.”
“Maya.”
“Hmm?” She strokes me leisurely, which is ironic since her touch is nothing but sensational, even when she’s not trying. “I figured you’re in my head so damn much I might as well give you some, right? Have you gotten head before?”
“No,” I growl.
“Were you waiting for me?”
