Page 41 of Ethan
Instead of answering, he walked in.
I pulled the covers back and climbed into the bed. Ethan followed, toeing off his shoes and settling beside me. We didn’t kiss. We didn’t talk.
Ethan just slid closer, close enough for our arms to brush, and let out a breath like he’d been holding it all day. I curled an arm around him, and he didn’t hesitate.
He just tucked his head against my shoulder, hand resting lightly against my chest like he’d been doing it for years.
“Still tired?” I asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Ethan admitted.
“Then sleep,” I murmured, tightening my arm around him. “I got you.”
His body relaxed, finally, the tension melting from him as his breathing slowed.
I stirred to the weight of someone pressed close, to steady breathing against my chest.
For a moment, I forgot where I was, until I looked down and saw Ethan. His arm was draped across me, his face tucked into the hollow beneath my collarbone.
I could feel his slow, even breathing against my skin, the rise and fall of his chest in perfect sync with mine.
For a few seconds, I just stayed still, watching, trying to steady my heartbeat. I’d slept better than I had in weeks. Maybe longer.
The air smelled faintly of soap and clean cotton and Ethan. Something warm and herbal that always clung to him after long hours in the clinic.
I tilted my head and looked down, taking him in. His hair was a little messy, curling over his forehead, and his lips were slightly parted, soft and peaceful.
Ethan looked good here. Next to me. On me.
I swallowed. My heart kicked up again, pounding in my chest like it wanted to break free. Carefully, I turned a little, letting my hand drift up his spine, slow and lazy.
Ethan didn’t stir. Not really. Just made a soft sound in the back of his throat and burrowed closer. I smiled. Then I leaned down and kissed him.
Just a soft press of my mouth to his temple, then his cheek, then finally and unable to resist, to his lips. Ethan shifted, making a low noise like a sigh.
I pulled back slightly, watching him. And that’s when I heard a faint murmur.
“Mm… do that again,” he whispered, voice thick with sleep but unmistakably awake.
I froze. “You’re awake.”
His mouth curved, a lazy smirk against my skin. “Have been for a bit.”
“You were faking?” I demanded, pretending to sound outraged.
“Wasn’t faking. Just didn’t want to ruin it.” His eyes cracked open, hazy and golden in the morning light. “You’re warm. Felt nice.”
I chuckled, heart thudding harder. “You always this sneaky?”
“Only when it works,” Ethan answered.
Then his fingers slid up my chest and into my hair, pulling me down for a real kiss this time. It was slow and unhurried, his lips soft but sure.
Something cracked open in me. The night before had been all adrenaline and responsibility. This? This was something else.
A thread of need curling low in my stomach, yes, but laced with tenderness, with relief. Like the storm had passed and left us here, safe in the quiet after.
I kissed him again, deeper now, angling his head as I rolled on top of him. His hands slipped beneath my shirt, fingers dragging up my ribs and abs, making me growl.
