Ethan turned on the faucet and splashed water on his face, willing himself to stop stewing and get back out there. He took a brown paper towel from the dispenser and dabbed away the droplets on his face.
He needed to go back out there and be her friend.
He swung the door open and walked out, spotting the cast in the same place, all of them together now as opposed to dispersed.
When he approached, they were hovering around Miles, Clyde’s arm around his waist while he tried to down what appeared to be six shots of blue liquor. Two of them were already emptied.
Ethan turned to Declan. “What’d I miss?”
“The owner just told him if he could take all of those and keep it in for an hour, the rest of the night will be on the house,” Declan answered.
Ethan folded his arms, tilting his head. “And do we think he can?”
“Oh, hell yeah, have you forgotten July of last year? No one can hold his liquor the way Miles can.”
That’s right.July twenty-four.It came rushing back to him at once, all of them shit-faced beyond comprehension, swearing off alcohol for the foreseeable future after the worst hangover. And then Miles walked in, completely fine, laughing at all of them for complaining.
He took the shots one by one without flinching, and the whole group erupted into a roar with each one. Ethan looked over to Willa then, her brown eyes glistening with a sweeping, stunning smile on full display.
This woman. The best friend he’d ever known. She was an all-consuming force to be reckoned with. She was everything to him.
A knot formed in his stomach suddenly, a roiling disgust at yet another intrusive thought—one far worse than all of his desires combined. He looked around the room, catching Alden and his friends somewhere in the distance, his eyes hooked on Willa.
Neither he nor Willa had dated in the two years they’d been friends. His mind pressured him to confront the idea now—the thought of her in someone else’s arms, introducing him to the cast and crew and bringing him out on nights like this.
Ethan didn’t think he had a jealous bone in his body until bile climbed up his throat. He’d lose his damn mind if he had to share Willa with someone, watch her arms wrap around another man’s body, knowing that he’d know how she kissed. Christ, the thought alone filled him with such horrendous dread that he was sure he could never face the reality of it.
Miles took the second to last shot. Another outbreak of hollers filled the room.
Here he was, in a place full of people who were having a blast, and his tortuous mind was having an outburst over something he had no business thinking about. Ethan shut his eyes for a split second. At no point in his life had he wanted a woman this deeply. He sincerely believed that he loved his recent ex, Michelle, but her infidelity aside, it was clear now that she had never impacted him with the vehemence that Willa had. She never consumed any part of him or became the one person he was positive his life would have no meaning without.
And maybe that was something else entirely. Maybe it was the mere detail that Willa was his best friend, different from all his other friends growing up who were still a big part of his life, or even how he connected to Declan and Sam in the cast.
Their gazes met each other across the room. She was otherworldly, rare and distinctive in a sky full of stars.
Declan angled his head back toward him, forcing Ethan’s thoughts to pause. “You coming over tomorrow for D&D?”
Ethan shook his head. “I have plans with Willa,” he replied.
He was thankful they had postponed their usual Sunday night arrangement to Monday. He appreciated having time alone with her because, if nothing else, sitting with Willa on the same couch, talking to her, and reaching for the same bowl of popcorn would keep his aching desires contained. Or would it? Would he simply continue falling farther and farther?
Declan dipped his chin with a smirk. “Right, yeah, you two have Sunday nights locked. Should’ve assumed you’d be making up for it tomorrow.”
Ethan didn’t say anything; no refuting remark came to him. He had no energy left to fight against his feelings. Let Declan and Sam mock him. They were right about all of it anyway.
Ethan caughtup with Willa as they all proceeded to walk out of the speakeasy. He had given her space while she was around the rest of the cast, locked in conversations and laughter. “Are we still on for tomorrow?”
Her lips curved upward. “We better be.”
“Okay, good. I wanted to be sure.” He paused for a beat, tempted to ask if she was okay after seeing Alden again but skeptical if he should. Still, checking in on each other wastheirthing. He’d feel terrible if he didn’t, and worse, what if she thought he didn’t care? “Are you sure you’re okay after what happened tonight?” he asked finally.
She nodded with a conviction stabilized in her eyes. “I am, and I mean it. Plus, I have a session with Marie tomorrow, so I’ll get to work through the situation.”
Ethan accepted the answer. She was, after all, a lot stronger than she let on, especially when it came to owning up to her emotions. He admired that about her. He admired many things. And dear God, he couldn’t wait until tomorrow.
They had a small distance to walk, so Ethan draped his arm around Willa’s shoulder. He had to; he was sure the balloon swelling inside of him wouldn’t let up if he didn’t touch her, even for a short period. She might not have needed him, but he ached for her. Thankfully, this had always been normal for them.
Willa looked up and smiled, sliding her arm around his waist in response. A familiar spark of light hurtled through him, and for the briefest moment, he was content with sending the worries in his chest packing.