Page 36 of Ethan
The second time, I looked over while wrapping a bandage around another enforcer’s hand. Dean was resetting his stance, but the moment our eyes met, he stumbled mid-step.
Griffin groaned like he was running out of patience.
By the third, I didn’t even mean to look. Dean’s gaze dragged mine across the room, and the second I gave in, he misjudged a block and nearly tripped over his own feet.
Griffin’s voice carried across the mats. “That’s it. You’re done for the day.”
I expected Dean to leave with the others, towel slung around his neck, maybe throw me another look over his shoulder. Butinstead, he cut straight across the gym floor, stopping in front of me.
“What time do you get off?”
“A few more hours,” I said slowly. “Why?”
Dean shrugged. “Thought you might want to grab something to eat later. I’m sick of the food at the dining hall.”
My mouth answered before my brain caught up. “Okay.”
I blinked, startled at myself. Why had I agreed so quickly? I could have said I was too busy, that I needed to check patient logs, that I had work waiting at the clinic.
All true. But none of it made it past my lips.
Because the truth was that I actually wanted to go.
By the time I wrapped up at the clinic and grabbed a quick shower, the sun was dipping low. I pulled on a clean shirt and jeans and made my way to the front steps of the pack house.
Dean was already there. And he’d cleaned up, too.
The usual edge of sweat and training dust had been scrubbed away, replaced by the sharp, fresh scent of soap. It wasn’t just that; it carried the faintest trace of the same scent I’d caught earlier in the gym.
Cedarwood and smoke.
Dean had even smoothed down his hair, though a few stubborn strands still fell across his forehead. He looked unexpectedly good. Too good.
His grin was confident, almost cocky. It was the kind of smile that probably got him out of trouble back in Thornebane.
I shoved my hands into my pockets. “So, where do you want to go?”
The grin faltered just a little. Dean rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting aside. For some reason, I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips.
“Honestly?” he said, shoulders lifting in a sheepish shrug. “I haven’t really gone around town much. Mostly stuck in the pack lands, training, going back and forth. Don’t really know the good spots.”
My lips twitched. “That so? Then how come you knew about Vanilla Bean and my usual drink order?”
“You mentioned it once.”
I blinked. “I did?”
“Yeah.” His tone was casual, but his eyes held mine a little too steadily.
“Well then,” I said, clearing my throat. “What are you in the mood for? Anything you miss from back home?”
Dean shook his head. “Nah. I wanna try something from here. Something new. Surprise me. Or you could bring me to your favorite spot.”
That made me pause. My favorite spot? I smirked instead.
“What if my favorite spot’s the packhouse dining hall?” I asked.
Dean made a face. “I suppose the menu does change. Although…” He squinted like he was giving it real thought. “With all the meatballs they’ve been serving the past few days, I guess tonight could be meatball sub night. Or spaghetti. Or maybe meatball stew?—”
