Page 18 of When We Ignite
After we ate, I stepped outside—per Oliver’s request—for a cigarette. Ethan joined once more and I smiled as he sat across from me, vape in hand.
He took a drag, looking away. His hair was messier than usual.
“Just come from the gym?”
He nodded. “How can you tell?” A curious smile played on his lips.
“Your hair,” I noted. He ran a hand through it, self-conscious. “Looks good. Figured you showered away from home—it’s not styled like usual.”
He blinked.
“I’m observant,” I explained.
“I’ve noticed.”
“We share that trait.”
He looked even more surprised. “How could you possibly know that?”
“The way you look at things, at people. Focused. You pause before you talk too,” I told him.
“You’re better at it than me,” he admitted.
“I’ve got a few years on you,” I teased.
He hesitated, as if debating whether to speak. Finally, he asked, “How can you tell when I’m nervous?”
I grinned. “You have a tell.”
“What is it?” he asked, tilting his head slightly—unintentionally endearing.
“I’m not giving that away,” I said, leaning forward, taking a slow drag.
“Why not?” he protested.
“I like having that over you. Maybe you can offer something in return,” I suggested.
His smile faded a bit. Perhaps I’d pushed too far.
“Like what?” he challenged, surprising me. I’d expected him to back off.
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something,” I replied casually.
“I thought you liked calling the shots,” he teased, taking another drag.
My heart skipped—a mix of surprise and delight. He’d nailed it.
I licked my lips, and his eyes followed the motion. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll give it up if you play my game.”
His face clouded, puzzled. “What game?” He probably didn’t mean to do it, but he lowered his voice too. With its natural huskiness, it sounded so alluring.
I smiled. “You’re smart, Ethan. I’m sure you’ve figured it out.”
A flush crept up his cheeks as realization set in. “I’ve told you, I’m not into men,” he said quickly.
“That’s fine. You don’t have to be into men,” I replied. He seemed confused. “Just into me,” I added with a smirk, leaning back.
He glanced away, overwhelmed. Was that too much? I studied his face for signs of acceptance or refusal. He remained neutral. I counted the seconds. The longer he hesitated, the more excitement built. He wasn’t saying no—just needed a nudge.
