Page 86 of Unless It's You
“The crew?” I crinkle my face in confusion. Why would they be coming back here? But I think back to the morning and try toremember them hauling bags at the lovely Scottish breakfast we were served... and I don’t.
Ethan nods, his eyes turned downward. “After we confirmed plans to climb tomorrow, I texted Gerald. Some of the crew decided to stay and tag along.”
“On the hike?” The bottom of my stomach drops. He’s doing everything he can to avoid being alone with me. To make sure nothing happens with us. My plans shatter, as if I’d dropped my favorite mug—the one from the local coffee shop in Reese’s hometown that saysI’m not yelling, I’m from New Jersey—and watched it break to pieces.
“Yes.” His face is a blank canvas. He’s wiped all emotion. He’s probably working on wiping away any feelings for me as well.
“Oh.That’sprobably why there were no rooms left.” I take a few cleansing breaths. “Well, I feel a little less bad about not being able to get you a room.”
“Fair point.” Almost a twitch of a grin crosses his face.
“Just come look.” I sigh and cross my arms. “You can at least leave your stuff there for now, since the crew isn’t back.”
He tightens his face, as if even being in a room with me is the worst idea. And it might be.
“Come on.” I wave my hand at him. Suddenly, I’m exhausted. It’s been a long week. A long month. “I’m tired. Then we can get a drink while we, uh, wait for the others, I guess.”
I spin around and head toward the giant house, and after a second, there’s a crunch of gravel as Ethan follows me.
“This isthe smallest room I’ve ever seen. There’s not even room to sleep on the floor.” Ethan drops his bag right inside the door and crosses his arms. I’m standing in front of the bathroom door and had to dodge the bed to get here.
There’s a tiny desk with a chair in one corner, and a pair ofnightstands on either side of the bed. Ethan’s eyes linger on the romance novel on my nightstand. I’m still readingLove to Hate You, the enemies-to-lovers book. I have a suspicion that the romance novels at Ethan’s flat are his, not his roommate’s. The thought of Ethan reading them makes me love him even more. The matching shelf at his mom’s flat? That wasn’t a coincidence.
“I know.” I also cross my arms. “But the bed is big.”
We both look at it. Is he imagining sleeping next to me? Scooting to the very edge of the bed to avoid brushing against my thigh in the middle of the night? Or maybe not avoiding me at all?
“I read that one,” Ethan says, eyes back on my nightstand. “I believe there’s a scene where there’s only one bed. It’s entirely unrealistic. How could that even happen?”
I snort. Ethan Fraser, cracking a joke. “It does seem very unlikely. I haven’t gotten to that part.”
A smile forms on his face, then melts away.
“I used to buy matching romance novels for me and my mum. I’d give one to her and suggest we read them at the same time. Like a little book club.” His face darkens. “But she always blew me off. I think she did actually read them—they were all on the shelf in her flat yesterday—but that only makes it worse. They were good enough to read, but not to talk to me about.”
I stride over to him and slip my hands on his forearms, expecting him to flinch. But he doesn’t. His muscles pulse beneath my hands. This man. He tried so hard. I wish I could make it hurt less for him.
“Ethan. That was a sweet thing to do.”
“No. It was stupid.”
“Not stupid. You were an amazing kid, and you’re an amazing adult, and you’ve done your best with a really shit situation.” I step even closer until our bodies are practically pressed against each other, then run my hands down his forearms.
He relaxes and lets me weave my fingers with his.
“How are you? After yesterday? Have you openedthe box?”
Ethan shakes his head aggressively. “No.” His voice cracks on the one syllable word. “It’s rubbish. I’m going to toss it.”
“Come on.” I tug Ethan through the door.
“What?” He pulls against my hand and stops after two steps. A look of panic crosses his face, his eyes wide, throat bobbing.
“Let’s open it and get it over with.” It’s gotta still be in the car. That’s what he was looking at in the back seat.
He doesn’t respond, but eases his resistance and follows me down the hallway, through the living area, and out the door to the still-empty parking lot.
I open the passenger side back door and slide in next to the box. When he doesn’t get in from the other side, I peek my head out and over the roof.
