Page 56 of Accidentally Yours
“I’m glad you show him to me,” she replied, and Ethan swallowed, skating in silence for a moment, her vulnerability opening something inside of him.
“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked, and she nodded. “I went on that show because I was lost,” he admitted, wanting Paige to know his truth. “I wasn’t sure where my life was going. I was lonely traveling for my job. I’d lost touch with friends. The only family I really had was my grandparents, and they encouraged me to take the risk, to follow the adventure. I needed . . . something to change. I needed to feel something again.”
Paige followed him, skating close. Her quiet presence was a comfort.
“You felt lost?” she asked.
He nodded. “I wasn’t looking for a relationship. That was actually the last thing I needed. But when Tatiana made me feel seen out there in the wilderness, I grabbed on to it. Even when it didn’t feel quite right. Even when I knew, deep down, it wasn’t real.”
“When did you know?” Paige asked, reaching out a hand. He took hold. “That it wasn’t real?”
Ethan took a breath. “I overheard her talking to production one night. It was all an act. She wasn’t interested in me—just the narrative it created. She was playing into a story the producers loved.”
Paige’s hand tightened around his.
“They edited the footage to make me the villain,” Ethan continued. “The guy who crushed her heart for no reason, other than to win the prize money. I didn’t bother setting the record straight.”
Paige’s gaze flicked across his face, searching for answers. “Why not?”
“It wasn’t worth it,” Ethan said, remembering how he got ripped apart on social and in the media after the last episode aired. “The truth didn’t matter. The audience wanted someone to root against. And honestly? Part of me felt like I deserved it. For being stupid enough to fall for her act.”
“You didn’t deserve that,” she said fiercely. “And shame on production for making you the villain. You got so much hate after that last episode. They made you look horrible.”
“It doesn’t matter. I knew the truth.” He shrugged a shoulder. “And I told the truth to the people that mattered most to me.”
Paige tipped her head, and Ethan thought she caught his message—that she was important to him.
“I’m sorry that happened to you, but thank you for telling me,” she said, and they skated in silence for a lap, the thrum of music filling the space between them. Then Paige added, “I don’t think what we have is an act, by the way. Not anymore.” Then, quieter, she added, “Do you?”
Ethan steadied himself so he didn’t trip. This woman understood him better than anyone ever had. Everything inside him twisted and yearned for her. He wanted to tell her he hadn’t felt like this about anyone . . . ever. That he was sure he was skating hand in hand with the real thing. But he was also terrified to put his heart out there again.
“I think what we have is different from anything I’ve experienced,” he said, the words dragging every exposed, vulnerable part of him to the surface.
Paige’s smile wobbled. It nearly undid him. “Me too.”
They slowed and circled each other, nearing the center of the rink where they finally stopped. He turned to face her. The disco ball cast stars across the worn floor and Paige’s upturned face. Ethan pulled her close, both hands sliding around her waist. Setting her hands on his chest, she captured him with her chocolate, knowing eyes. And his heart ached—with the wanting, the fear, the reckless hope he hadn’t dared to feel until her.
“You scare me, Moon,” he admitted, brushing a curl from her face.
Her fingers twisted into the fabric of his shirt. “Good,” she whispered back. “You scare me too.”
Ethan swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling with shallow, uneven breaths. This wasn’t pretend. Not even close. He dipped his head, grazing his nose against hers, feeling her breath catch, running his lips over hers in a gentle brush.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he murmured, the words slipping out raw and unguarded.
Paige straightened. Just for a second. But it was enough to tear straight at his heart.
The tiniest pullback. The faintest shift of her weight.
And Ethan knew—he felt it like a blade—he’d said too much.
And then Paige lost her balance, and they both tumbled to the floor.
Chapter Nineteen
PaigeandEthanhitthe floor in a graceless tangle of limbs and skates, sliding a few feet before coming to a stunned, breathless stop. For a second, Paige just lay there, dazed and staring up at the ceiling. The disco ball spun lazily above them, scattering fractured rainbows across dusty tiles. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs, beating a frantic rhythm that had nothing to do with the fall.
Pinned beneath her was Ethan’s arm. She was half sprawled across his chest. His fingers tightened at her waist, and for a dizzy moment, she wanted a re-do of the past few seconds.
