Page 15

BIRDIE

Ididn’t mean to blurt it all out like that but it just came out. And judging by Ethan’s expression, he wasn’t expecting anything more than talking about my brother. I’m aware that I’m a mess, that our legs are intertwined. Hell, I’m even aware that Ethan laid with me after I’d only kind-of fallen asleep. I heard his argument with Björn too, but it was easier to stay asleep than face the entire firing squad all at once. Besides, I really was tired. Ethan’s gaze rests on my face, his one arm under my head, the other around my back.

“All of it,” he whispers. “You can talk to me about all of it, little Bird.” God, I’m so conflicted, I can’t decide if I want to pull away or kiss him. And I certainly can’t decide if I like having him hold me like he used to. Okay, that’s a lie. I do like how it feels to have his body so close to mine, I just don’t like that I like it. Which doesn’t make a lick of sense. See? A total mess.

“I think I explained the whole Harlan and Liv thing pretty accurately last night,” I sigh. “I just didn’t know how to explain it to him. I still don’t, if I’m honest. And as for the rest of it, I’m…still figuring it out for myself.” Which is true. “What I can say is that when you do fall in love for the first time, real love, and it’s taken away by the person you’re in love with, those feelings don’t just disappear. No matter how much time passes, or how much you try to convince yourself that seeing that person again doesn’t mean anything. As soon as I saw you in my café, it’s like it all came back, the good feelings and the bad, and I don’t know what to do with it, Ethan. I don’t know what to do with you. I don’t know if I regret last night because it happened, or because I can’t remember how it felt to have you touch me, kiss me, take me like you had a right to my body.” And he would have because Ethan doesn’t know any different when it comes to me. We were always so hot for each other, so impatient. Insatiable. It makes me wonder if he was like that with his ex-wife, but I cut that thought off before it can snowball.

So much flashes across his face, in his eyes. And I’m curious to know if he’s going back in time, too, and if he’s not only thinking about last night, but about how we ended. How he ended us. When I’m convinced he’s not going to say anything at all, I try to disentangle myself from him, except his grip tightens. Keeping me firmly in place, looking up at him. Licking my lips is instinctual, I still have a bit of cotton-mouth, but his eyes snap to my tongue, before moving back up. “Leaving you was the biggest mistake I could have ever made, Birdie,” he says, his tone quiet but firm. He wants me to believe him, but, “But you didn’t come back. Instead, you not only stayed in France, you got married. To someone else. Which means you fell in love again, you must have, and that makes me someone you used to love.”

There’s a tick in Ethan’s jaw, and I don’t know if it’s because he’s angry, or because everything I’m saying is hitting a nerve and he doesn’t want to answer for it. Another beat passes before he starts talking, and this time, he admits, “I made a mistake. More than one, actually. And you’re right, I did fall in love again.” He gauges my reaction, which is to take a stuttering breath, and swallow the emotion filling my throat. I can’t help the tears, hearing that he could fall in love again stings in a way I can’t quite explain. Our past certainly made it impossible for me to fall for someone else, and perhaps I’m just a little mad about that. “Surely there was someone after me? You had to have fallen in love again?” The strangest thing isn’t that I didn’t fall in love again, but really how Ethan sounds hopeful that I did. More than hopeful, he’s pleading with me. And I can’t lie, even if my own admission is somewhat humiliating. I try to divert my gaze, but Ethan tips my chin back, forcing me to look at him when I say, “I dated again, but it took me a year to get the courage to do it. There were a few guys, but nothing ever lasted.” I won’t tell him I kept comparing every other man to him, and when they inevitably fell short, I ended it. “So no, I didn’t fall in love again. How could I when my heart was spoken for.” The realization hits me square in the chest, my heart was spoken for and that’s why I never could see myself with another man long-term. I couldn’t visualize a future like the one I’d created for me and Ethan with someone else, someone new. Ethan huffs a breath through his nose, reminding me of a bull about to charge. “Damnit,” he murmurs, a small shake of his head. “I was hoping…” he trails of, but I pick up what I think he was going to say. “That I’d met someone and fallen in love so that you wouldn’t have to feel guilty that you did?” He wipes a tear from my face, and cups my cheek. “You can’t have the best of both worlds, Ethan. Life worked out for you after you left, and for me, it just…” I shrug. “Carried on. Well, after I’d read your wedding announcement on Page Six and got a glimpse of your wife. Then it was real, and I stopped willing you to just show up and tell me you should never have gone, that you wanted me and no one else.”

“Did you ever forgive me?” He says it so quietly, I almost don’t hear him.

“I’m not sure. I think I wanted to believe I had, but then you were in my café and now this is all happening way too fast.”

“What’s happening too fast, Bird?”

“Everything,” I whisper. “My head is spinning, and it has nothing to do with having a hangover and everything to do with you.”

“Does it scare you?” He traces the line between my brows, down my nose, and my eyes flutter. It feels nice. And it shouldn’t. I shouldn’t be as comfortable as I am right now. I should be steering clear of Ethan, he has the ability to break me again and I know I’d be stupid to take such a risk a second time. It would be my own fault then, if he hurts me.

“It terrifies me,” I confess. “You just got divorced, I can’t decide if I hate you or not, and for all I know, I’m a rebound. Or I could be. There’s no way you’re ready for more, and I don’t know if I want to give you another chance and put my heart on the line again.”

Ethan’s keen gaze intensifies, it feels like he’s searching my soul for something. The sad part is, no matter how much he’s put me through, I can’t hide anything from him. It’s impossible. And that’s what made it so hard to love someone else. The men I dated after Ethan could never tell when I was being myself, or when I was being who I thought they wanted. They weren’t Ethan, who can still see through every one of my defenses and find me.

“I’m going to do something,” he tells me, “just once, and then I think I’m going to make you something to eat, and while you eat, you can tell me why co-owning a café is a bad idea when, for now, we’re just friends.”

“I didn’t say we’re friends, Ethan.”

“Enemies then?” he counters. “Or is it frenemies? I think that’s what the kids call it these days.”

I freeze when he starts to angle his head closer to mine, and adds, “Fine, we don’t have to be friends, or frenemies, but we can discuss details after I do this one thing.” I’m holding my breath when his lips slant over mine, and it takes only a second for me to, unintentionally, seek out the familiarity of his kiss and find it. My body warms, and before I can stop myself, my hand is in Ethan’s hair, and I’m opening my mouth. It doesn’t last long, but when Ethan stops, we’re both out of breath, flushed. I can feel his heart beating the same erratic rhythm as mine. “Right,” he clears his throat, his cheeks ruddy. I’m sure it’s because he’s turned on and, well, he can’t exactly hide it. “Any special requests?”

Because kissing him tends to give me a brain fog far worse than that of a hang over, I’m slow to realize he’s asking me what food I want. On cue, my stomach says Hi, feed me! and because Ethan’s heard the sound many, many times before, it makes him grin. “Surprise me,” I tell him, the response automatic. We’ve already slipped into old habits, our idiosyncrasies laid bare simply because we’re together. He kisses my nose, rolls away, and stands from the bed. Adjusts his sweats, and if I know him, the head of his erection is now tucked into the elastic band of his boxer briefs. It’s only a few seconds, but enough time for me to notice how much wider his shoulders are, how his back ripples with muscle, and how firm his ass is. I watch him until he’s no longer in the bedroom, and only then do I think about the consequences of every encounter we’ve had in what feels like a very short span of time. And that’s also what scares me, how easily things have clicked when it’s been just over a week since I’d learned of his return to New York. I also can’t deny that I’m not the only one in this situationship who’s vulnerable. Ethan hasn’t said a word about his ex-wife, or his divorce, and I’m sure he’s scarred, too. Which begs the question: what the fuck are we even doing? Surely this can’t end well. For either of us.

“Not happening,” I say, shoving another bite of waffles and bacon into my mouth. It’s my second helping, and my body is grateful for the food even if it’s not the most nutritious choice. It’s late afternoon, but it’s cold outside, a light snowfall making for a beautiful view from Ethan’s apartment.

“Why not? We’ve worked together before, I can’t see why being business partners wouldn’t work.” Ethan cleans his plate, and pushes it away, turning in his barstool to look at me. He looks quite attractive, his arm leaning on the island countertop, his hair sticking up all over the place courtesy of my fingers. The apartment is warm, so he’s still in sweats and a t-shirt. While I’m still in one of his t-shirts and my panties. I still don’t know what I’m going to do about clothes. Ethan wrecked mine last night and I’ll have to make a plan before I leave.

“It’s my café, Ethan. If I wanted a business partner, I would have asked Harlan because he’s be a silent partner and allows me to run my café the way I want to. Why won’t you allow me to buy the space from you? It doesn’t sound like you have plans to open a restaurant again in the immediate future, so it’s just going unused.”

Ethan is quiet, but when he realizes I’m not going to say more, he says, “After my divorce, I lost my passion for being in a kitchen, for food, for baking, and when I started baking for you, it felt different. It felt right. And then Harlan contacted me, and I thought, maybe, it could be a chance for us to start over.”

It’s the first time he’s spoken about his divorce, and I take the chance to ask him what I want to know, hoping he’ll open up. Even though I don’t really want to hear about the woman he fell in love with after me. I’ve got questions, I can’t help it. “What happened between you two anyway?” Ethan’s expression shutters, and I’m about to tell him he doesn’t have to tell me when he replies, “She cheated on me, and found out she was pregnant. She expected me to stay, even though the baby isn’t mine. Fortunately, my father drew up a prenup before I got married and included an infidelity clause. It was the perfect out for me, which he did on purpose. He didn’t exactly like her. It also meant cutting ties would be easier, and she didn’t get anything more than what she invested in my restaurants. But we were unhappy for a while before she fucked me over, she complained about my work hours more and more, and that’s when I realized we weren’t right for each other.”

I wasn’t expecting that, and regardless of my history with Ethan, he doesn’t deserve to be treated that way. No one does.

“I’m sorry she did that,” I reply softly. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.” It’s obvious he’s still hurt, and he has reason to be.

Ethan lets out a breath. “It’s fine. You always were too curious for your own good, Bird.” When his mouth lifts on the side, the smallest of smiles, I feel a little better about asking what can be considered a rather intrusive and insensitive question.

“I’m still not sure we should be business partners, though.” My abrupt attempt at changing the topic and lifting the mood works because Ethan barks out a laugh. “I think it’s a great idea. What could possibly go wrong?” He’s teasing about the last part. We both know we’re too headstrong in the kitchen to work together in harmony. We’d butt heads and argue more than anything else and while it used to work for us in other ways, it won’t in a business partnership. “Think about it,” he adds, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “In the mean time, though, I can come help you at the café, if you want. That way you don’t have to go through the process of screening candidates, you know as well as I do that finding a good patisserie chef can be difficult.”

He has a point, but I don’t think putting us in the same space, especially a kitchen, is the best plan. I’d have to see him every day, and after last night, I’m not sure I can handle being around him all day, every day, without becoming more and more confused. On the other hand, I doubt I’ll find someone to help in the kitchen, with the required qualifications and experience, before the new year and I’m going to need some assistance before then. I can’t have Daniel or Megan quitting on me, then I’ll be well and truly screwed.

“Fine,” I acquiesce. “I’ll think about it. But for the love of all the things, please don’t just show up at the café, you’ll just scramble my brain again.”

Ethan grins, revealing his white teeth, and I have to roll my eyes. “Don’t let that go to your head. I still don’t like you, Woods.”