Page 11 of Ethan
Either way, the cup was full, steaming, and I was definitely running late.
Griffin was expecting me out in the yard for some basic combat training. The kind of “we don’t trust you yet but let’s see how you move” test.
I should’ve been rushing over there, but my brain kept flashing to the way Ethan had sprinted toward Griffin yesterday.
How his voice had sounded tight with concern. I gritted my teeth as I walked.Was there something going on between them?
It shouldn’t have bothered me. But it did. Griffin had that calm, unshakable enforcer thing going for him. Ethan might like that. I mean, why wouldn’t he?
Still, it wasn’t like I could do anything about it. Not until I had some facts.
So instead of heading straight to the yard, I made a detour to the clinic. The halls were quieter here. Sterile but not cold.
I figured Ethan might be there, restocking supplies or doing whatever it was a healer did between emergencies.
What I didn’t expect was a scrawny kid. He was maybe eight or nine and sitting behind the front desk with a half-unwrapped crayon in one hand and a sheet of paper covered in messy scribbles.
He looked up as I walked in.
“Hey, kid,” I said, nodding at him. “Ethan around?”
He blinked at me. Then immediately went back to coloring.
“Hey. I’m talking to you,” I said.
The kid froze. Slowly looked up. “My mom says I’m not supposed to talk to strangers. Especially bad men who look like they get in trouble a lot.”
I blinked. Wait. What did this squirt just call me? “Trouble? Me?”
He raised his eyebrows in a very adult way that kind of made me want to sit down and reevaluate my life.
Before I could argue with a third grader, my nose twitched and I caught that wonderful scent. Pine. Stone. Sweetness. And something warm and earthy underneath. Ethan.
He appeared from the side hallway, shirt wrinkled and hair pushed back like he’d already had a long morning. His green eyes locked onto mine, unimpressed.
“So early in the morning and you’re already scaring the pups,” he said dryly, folding his arms. “Micah, your mom’s looking for you.”
Micah, because of course the kid had a name and I’d missed it, hopped off the chair and scampered past me without a second glance.
I scratched the back of my neck, trying to look casual.
“I, uh, brought you something.” I held out the cup like it might explode. “This is for you. I wanted to thank you. You know. For yesterday.”
Ethan raised one eyebrow but took the coffee. “You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.”
My palms were sweating. I shoved them in my pockets before I did something humiliating like wipe them on my jeans. Get it together, I told myself.
“I figured,” I added quickly, “you’d need it. After patching me up. And clearly having an early morning. So caffeine.”
He stared at the cup like it might bite him. Then he took a cautious sip. And immediately started coughing.
I moved toward him instinctively. “You okay?”
He held out a hand, stopping me. “How much sugar did you put in this?”
“I… uh…” I scratched my neck again. “Thought a sweet thing like you would want something sweet and?—”
