Page 88 of A Certain Step
They tooktheir seats after a few minutes, with Willa and Ethan nestled between Sahar and Christian.
It was nice to be a little guarded and secluded, lights dimmed with the spotlight on Sam and Priya. Some attendees stood in the back near the bar while others sat in designated areas. Upon realizing that the tableclothdraped along the front of the table, Ethan rested his hand against Willa’s thigh, his fingers languidly tracing her leg, his watch cool against her exposed skin. The people in the same row as them were their co-workers. This was fine. This was okay. There was no one behind them. The only people they had to be potentially cautious hiding from were the ones in front of them. And there was no way anyone could see their hands or legs like this.
Willa laced their fingers together for a brief period. She caught him stealing glances occasionally. She didn’t feel like drinking, but he handed her his whisky sour at one point, and she took a sip, then another. They were together, but they weren’t. She was so close that she could feel every tremor and movement in his body.
She leaned her head forward for a beat, wanting a reminder of what Sam and Priya’s former band was called. He couldn’t hear her through the noise, so he brought his head closer, his hand trailing to inherently hold her face. She asked again, louder this time.
“Discount Shakespeare,” he answered, notes of citrus and smokey maple enveloping her. God, she wanted to kiss him. Just like this, right at this very second.
They parted. Ethan’s hand continued roving up and down Willa’s legs.
The night was a dream of sorts with Sam and Priya and their intoxicating melodies—their gorgeous real-life chemistry bleeding on stage. Is this how it’d been for her and Ethan? Was this what people saw when they were performing together? Fire and warmth, intermingling with love and trust. She wished for it. Wanted it, desperately.
Willa wanted him. She wanted him to try. She wanted his covetous fingers to trail higher and higher without stopping. She was sure of it now. Heat emanated from both the humidity and her desire. Her mind, heart, and body weaved into a completed, picturesque tapestry.
Her best friend. The love of her life. Her everything.
The night ended with another round of drinks, blissful laughter, sing-a-longs, and emotions flying on all cylinders.
She’d consider his headspace when they got home, and maybe—hopefully—she could have all of him then.
29
ETHAN
Ethan could swear something was different about Willa tonight. The way she let his hands linger, how she looked at him, the ease in her frame when they got back to his place. He couldn’t have been delusional enough to read into signs that weren’t there. There was no way.
She had asked to shower first when they got to his place, grossed out by the fact that her legs had touched the restaurant seats. He had migrated to his living room when the sounds of running water and the knowledge of Willa’s nakedness sent his imagination sprinting toward all the ways he wanted to have her.
He sat on his couch, mind rattled. He attempted to mull over his feelings logically without the interference of the throbbing bulge in his pants.
Think with your head, not your dick, idiot.He scolded himself.You love this woman with everything in you. Don’t scare her off.
And God, how he loved her. His heart had been beating out of his chest for what felt like ages now. It was Willa—it was always Willa. He loved her so intensely that overwhelming emotions took his breath away every time he tried to grasp their magnitude.
Willa stepped out of his room and sauntered to where he was seated.
He was…embarrassingly hard.Fuck.She’d see it. She’d run away. It’d scare her off.Christ. He seized a pillow from the couch and placed it on top of his jeans, hoping he was suave enough that she wouldn’t notice. Except she was smarter than that.
Willa got closer, eyed the pillow, and then cocked an eyebrow at him.
“I—uh…” he tried to say.
She let out a low laugh. “I am well aware of how the human body works, babe. No need to torture yourself with an excuse.”
He groaned and leaned his head back against the cushion. “I’m so sorry, Willa.”
Ethan felt her stepping closer to him but didn’t think anything of it until she straddled him. Carefully. He leaned his head forward, his eyes widened. She smoothed the pads of her fingers along his cheek. “Why are you apologizing?”
“Because I’m trying not to scare you away.”
She laughed boisterously, the brilliant one he could perpetually stay drunk on. “It’s going to take a lot more than a boner to scare me away. Plus, I—” she started to say, then paused.
“What is it?” he asked. His hand moved to the nape of her neck, behind her hair. He worked his fingers along her scalp.
“I want to try. I want to do more than what we’ve been doing.”
He gaped at her for a long minute, confident that he was fantasizing about the entire conversation. He must’ve dozed off on the couch. He must’ve been dreaming about her.
