Page 79 of A Certain Step
She couldn’t halt her cheeks from flushing. “I can’t deal with you. You should’ve just said it.”
“I have many things I’d like to say to you, but I’m pacing myself,” he answered swiftly.
She poked his abs, lean and hard against her fingers. “Like what?”
“Like, when’d you know?” he asked.
He dipped his head back to her throat.
“Know what?” she questioned, drawing out the moment, fingers carding through his hair.
Ethan growled, low and hoarse into her neck. “You know what.”
“Why do you think I drank so much that night we went out? When you didn’t show up,” she confessed through a subdued whimper.
He looked up at her, his eyes blazing with bottomless longing. “That’s the night you realized you had feelings for me?”
She shook her head. “That was the night I understood that I was too far gone. I started feeling something when I watched people slow dance at Alex’s wedding and wished you were there with me.”
“I’m sorry my headache got in the way of us that night,” he noted. “I’m also sorry I couldn’t come with you to the wedding.” She was, too, or maybe she wasn’t. Perhaps she wouldn’t have realized how much she relied on his presence to feel safe.
“It’s okay. Maybe it’s exactly what I needed to recognize thatyouare the person I’m searching for in every room.”
He groaned, biting down on the slope of her shoulder. “Fuck, Wills, that sounded like poetry.”
She tipped his face to look him square in the eyes. “It’s the truth.”
He seized her mouth hard, surely bolstered by her praise. His phone vibrated on the table again, but he ignored it. It vibrated once more, then a few more times after. He stopped kissing her and looked down. They read the texts together. Sam and his wife, Priya, would be performing at a small venue in Queens next month—the whole cast was invited.
“Are we going?” Willa asked.
He confirmed quickly and then crashed his lips back onto hers.
25
ETHAN
Ethan stood behind the curtains and isolated backstage. His head throbbed, and he didn’t have painkillers left on him. He sat against one of the prop chairs that wouldn’t be coming out for two more numbers as they ran through a block of rehearsals since Naomi’s return.
Willa approached him carefully. She drifted her fingers slowly along his shoulder. “You all right? You seem off.”
He nodded. “I’m fine, I just have a headache but ran out of meds.”
She drew her fingers lower, brushing them along his biceps now. “Is it really bad?” she asked.
“No. It’s annoying as hell, though. It’s not going to let me bring my best to the show if I don’t get it under control.”
“Shit. And I’m pretty sure I only have Aleve and Advil on me, but you’re allergic to both. I’ll need to start making sure I pack extra Tylenol. Sahar might have some in our dressing room; let me check.”
Something as simple but substantial as Willa remembering his allergies despite not having the best memory made his heart squeeze.
As she swerved to walk toward her dressing room, Ethan stood up and stopped her mid-turn, pulling her into his chest. Two seconds. No one was around. It was dark enough in here to hide for a beat. He needed to hold her. Plus, this was normal. This was fine. They weren’t strangers to hugging. “It’s okay, beautiful. I’ll ask around when we’re done, or I’ll pop into a store real quick and grab it,” he hummed against her ear.
Her hands caressed his back in soothing circles. He shut his eyes for a second, giving himself a moment to appreciate her touch. He maybe lingered for a minute too long because he opened his eyes to see Declan smirking from center stage, standing at the right angle to notice them.
Willa pulled away from him, noting the expression in his eyes, then turned to catch Declan, too. She looked back at Ethan, her eyes widened.
“Don’t worry. I’ll ask him for some meds. It’ll throw him off,” he whispered.
