Page 29 of Release Me

Please don’t let it be Ethan.

I pull myself together, realizing I’m still dressed in what I wore to work today, and I quickly strip it off, changing into a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt.

As I emerge from the bedroom, I know he’s waiting out there for me, and again I’m hit with a massive amount of embarrassment.

Ethan Morrison, my gorgeous boss, took me home, and is now in my kitchen. Has he been here all day? Did he seriously stay here while I slept? Delaney is going to give me so much shit about this.

“Hey,” I say, as Ethan stands at my stove, stirring a pot, his laptop open and the screen glowing as it sits on the island across from him.

“Hey, you feeling better?” he asks, coming over to once again rest a hand against my forehead. “You still feel warm.”

“Ethan, you didn’t have to stay here,” I now say, feeling guilty that I’ve taken him away from his office.

“I can go,” he says, and I realize I’ve made him feel bad. “I’m sure it’s weird having your boss here.”

“No, that’s not what I meant, and let’s stop with this boss shit,” I now say, feeling far braver than usual. Whatever this virus is has my honesty pouring out of me, not worrying in the least what comes out of my mouth.

He blinks a few times, looking at me, scanning my face and now it feels like me who has stepped over the line.

“You wouldn’t take any of your other employees home if they were sick,” I now say, my words softer, almost leading him to admit there’s something more here.

I feel it.

Or maybe I’m wrong.

Chapter11

Ethan

“No, maybe not,” I hear myself reply, not looking away from her, even as I know with absolute certainty that I would never do this for any other employee of mine.

With Zoey though, I didn’t even think twice. As soon as I saw her, as soon as I realized how unwell she was, I didn’t hesitate to ask Cameron to bring my car around so I could get her home without anyone seeing. Thankfully Cameron had the good sense not to ask questions or comment on what I was doing, even though I have no doubt he was wondering exactly what the hell Iwasdoing.

Jesus, even I’m wondering what I’m doing at this point because I have no idea what’s happening here, except that something feels like it’s changing with her and me, with us. Something feels different,isdifferent.

You fucking like her, that’s what’s going on.

Zoey tries for a smile, moving to take a seat at the counter. “I’m sorry, all of that came out wrong,” she says, exhaling. “What I mean is, thank you for bringing me home. You didn’t need to do that, just like you didn’t have to stay here while I slept. I know how busy you are.”

I smile, moving back to the stove as I stir the soup I was heating for her. “I can work anywhere with a phone and a laptop,” I say, turning off the burner as I hunt through her cabinets for a bowl, ignoring the fact that I’m apparently just making myself at home here. Zoey doesn’t say anything and when I glance over, she’s watching me, a soft smile on her face. “What?” I ask with a laugh.

She shakes her head, but her smile widens as she says, “Nothing, I just never pictured you as…I don’t know…someone who cooks.” She waves a hand at me as though to explain.

Chuckling, I finally find a cupboard with some bowls and glasses. Grabbing one of each, I fill the glass with water and put it on the counter in front of her. “I’m not really sure how to take that,” I tease.

Zoey takes a sip of water, smiling back at me. “You’re like, acting all domesticated or something.”

A loud laugh escapes me as I pour some soup into the bowl for her. “I’m not sure heating soup is domesticated, Zoey.” I place the bowl in front of her, along with a spoon. “You should eat something.”

She blinks up at me, still smiling but with a curious expression on her face now, before she eventually pulls the bowl toward her and takes a small spoonful. “Oh god, this is amazing. Did I actually have this in the pantry?”

I lean back against the counter, arms crossed as I watch her eat, a weird fluttering thing going on in my chest. “No,” I reply with a smile. “I had something sent over from the restaurant. You like it?”

“God yes,” she moans, taking another spoonful. “It’s delicious, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. How are you feeling?”

Zoey shrugs, still eating as she says, “A little better maybe, more embarrassed than anything.”

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