Page 17 of A Certain Step
Sahar sighed. “He apologized. Blamed it on stress and shit. I told him it wasn’t an excuse and I needed to think about what I want. He claims he understands, so we’ll see,” she finished with a shrug.
Willa put her arm around Sahar’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re thinking about it.”
“Yeah, so am I.”
Christian looked up from his phone. “Ride is approaching.”
“Thank God, I’m so knackered,” Sahar added.
Willa groaned and tugged her falling bra strap up from inside her jumper. “I’m going to hate myself if I’m hungover tomorrow.”
Sahar turned her head, shock dawning in her eyes. “How much did you drink?”
“Enough to make my future self hate me. I was sad. And the bartender must’ve noticed because he gave me the extra one on the house when I went up to get water instead.”
Sahar chuckled slightly. “Oh, babe. We’ll get you some ibuprofen, and I’m not letting you sleep until you’ve emptied two entire cups of water. Want to tell us why you’re sad?”
“No, because it’s embarrassing.” And because she was already feeling bad for basically disclosing half of it to Christian, minus the part about her feelings for Ethan.
Sahar pursed her lips.
Christian patted Sahar’s shoulder, gesturing for them to follow him into the silver Kia SUV that had approached.
Willa bit her tongue as she entered, forcing herself not to swear aloud.
Of all the songs in the world, this driver had to be playing Keane’s “Somewhere Only We Know.” She was going to lose it. Her eyes welled so hard it would be downright humiliating if she started crying.
Fuck alcohol. Screw emotions.
She wanted to call Ethan.
She wanted to beg this driver with great taste in music to please change the damn song. It hit her in all the places she had zero stamina to combat against.
It was touching the familiarity and tender emotions that only Ethan’s presence could evoke.
It was too much.
Her discomfort must’ve been evident because Christian placed his hand on her bouncing knee. “You okay?”
She shut her eyes for a second and then drew closer to his ear. “The song isn’t helping the mood.”
The driver must’ve overheard her attempt at a whisper. “Would you like me to change it?”
Yes, she wanted to say. “Oh, no, that’s okay,” left her betraying lips.
“At least we’re close to home,” Sahar added.
The car came to a halt five minutes later, no traffic being a much-needed blessing. They stepped out of the vehicle and gave each other quick hugs before Christian walked to his building next to theirs.
She wanted to check in on Ethan and see how he was doing, but it suddenly felt intrusive. A thing she would’ve done without an ounce of hesitation now sparked a storm of doubts and uncertainties. It’s not like Ethan would think she liked him because of a simple text.
The man was focused intently on opening day, married to his work, as she should’ve been. He wasn’t pushing boundaries in his mind as tirelessly as she was.
It’s just a text, woman. Send it. Check in.
Sahar pressed the fifth-floor button in the elevator, and Willa leaned her head against the cool metal. She opened her messages, clicked on his name, and stared. She stared until a ding alerted her of their arrival.
“Where’d you go?” Sahar asked.
