Chapter 35

I stop breathing for a second.
It’s him. The only man I’ve ever had a one-night stand with.
Ethan.
I never in my life expected him to come to my house.
His eyes narrow at me, dark and sharp under the dim hallway light. His presence is commanding as he stands there, his broad shoulders accentuated by the black coat that I recall seeing in his apartment above the nightclub, a place I now know he also owns. The last time I saw this fancy coat, I couldn’t resist and shamelessly sniffed it before hastily leaving Ethan’s place. And now, seeing him wearing the very same coat, I can not help but ponder if, by leaning closer to him and sniffing it again, the rich and captivating fragrance of his expensive coat will become even more pronounced with its owner wearing it.
Shuddering, I force those thoughts away.
A few strands of his dark hair have fallen across his forehead. The shadows cast over his face lend an air of mystery, with his mouth seemingly contorted as if it’s on the verge of breaking into a sneer.
“How... how come you know I live *here*?” I manage to stammer, my voice barely above a whisper.
Vi found out where I live when she gave me a ride, but she didn’t know exactly which floor or apartment. That’s why I emphasize the ‘here’.
The hallway light flickers, and for a moment, his shadow stretches out behind him like a looming figure waiting to pounce.
He doesn’t answer right away, just stares at me with those cold, unblinking eyes. “I followed your scent,” he finally says, his tone too casual, too smooth, as if he actually found me because he followed my scent, which would be impossible.
“HA!” I snort. “That’s a good one,” I say, opening a small grin.
But then I recall how much this building stinks. I feel angry. Does he mean I stink? My smile immediately drops.
My heart sinks, and I grip the door tighter, wishing I hadn’t opened it at all.
“Did you just call me stinky?” I ask incredulously.
He doesn’t answer. I can spot a glimpse of satisfaction in his eyes, though.
“No,” Ethan says, but the way he says it, the way his eyes glint in the dim light, makes me doubt it.
A few seconds pass as we stare at each other’s eyes. “What are you doing here, Ethan?” I ask then, sighing when it’s too unbearable to look into those onyx-black eyes.
Yet, I’m still mad at him for the way he treated me the last time I saw him.
“Aren’t you going to ask me in?” Ethan asks, his voice low, gravelly.
I bit my bottom lip. “I, uh, my place is a mess, though.”
“I don’t care about a mess.”
“Just, um, give me three minutes, maybe five. It’s really a big mess,” I hurry to say, closing the door on him.
I need a moment to tidy up anything I don’t want him to see, even my thoughts.
To my surprise, he reaches out and places his hand on the door, stopping me from closing it, even though I’m trying my hardest, while he seems not to even try at all.
I, for sure, see this time amusement in his eyes.
Then I let go of the door, which makes him abruptly lose his balance and almost fall with the force he was using, but he quickly recovers.
“Shoot! I’m so sorry, Ethan!” I throw my arms around him without thinking.
His body freezes up like an immovable sculpture. “What the fuck are you doing?”
I feel my face getting warm. “Stopping you from falling over, duh,” I say, still hugging him. At this close, my face brushes his fancy coat, and I can guarantee that the delicious scent I was wondering earlier is, in fact, stronger with him wearing it.
Better.
Ethan doesn’t say anything. He remains standing still, and, as always, when I see a huge silence, I try to fill it. “Oh, uh, you almost fell there… but I, um, I’m here to catch you. Maybe, uh, you used too much strength on the door, and now, I don’t know, you’re kinda out of energy to stay standing? Uh... here, you can lean on me if you want to.” I hear him taking a long, deep breath, and I release my arms around him, but I don’t know what comes over me. Instead of pulling away, I place both my hands on his forearms and look at his eyes. “Uh, are you... are you okay now? You’re steady, right?” I say, and then I squeeze his big muscles under my hand for good measure.
Ethan stares down at me with incredulously filled in his eyes.
What the hell am I doing? I let him go like he was on fire and immediate I take two steps back.
I clean my throat and open the door wide. “Uh, you can come on in,” I say, avoiding his gaze as I stare at the old burn mark on the floor near the door that looks like it was scorched ages ago.
I watch Ethan walk into my little studio as if it were his own, with his dominant vibe filling the place.
After shutting the door, I turn on my heel and face him.
In less than two steps, he is already in the middle of my studio.
His black eyes glance around, surveying my place, and I feel the need to tidy up. I feel the need to apologize for the small size and the smell that still stinks even after I tried really hard to make it vanish.
Maybe he thinks I’m not as good as him because this place is not even a bit like his extravagant mansion... Is he judging me?
Ethan’s gaze shifts to me, and there it stays.
He studies my face before stepping right into my space. Our chests nearly brush. I swallow nervously and wait. I should ask him why he’s here, but it seems that now that I have something important to say, my mouth decides to stay shut.
The sound of his voice is a deep rumble, seeming to vibrate my walls. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
I open my mouth to answer him, but close. I’m confused. “I… What?”
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I should be the one asking you this! You're at MY house!” I say.
“This is one of the worst damn neighborhoods in Summerville! Why the hell are you living here?” he snaps, his voice rough.
I look up at him. “It’s really not that bad.”
“Not that bad?” He lets out a bitter laugh. “I heard two fucking gunshots before I even got in the building! And there’s a drug dealer standing right outside this fucking building.”
“There is?” I frown, confused for a second, and then a realization hits me. “Oh! You mean Earl? No, no, he’s not a drug dealer.” I glance toward the kitchen. “Poor thing, I didn’t know he was back! I haven’t seen him for a while. I should check if I’ve got something to make him a sandwich.”
He stares at me, eyes wide, his jaw tight. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
“Earl’s not a bad guy, and it’s not so bad here.”
He runs a hand over his face like he’s about to lose it. “It’s so bad that I’m probably not even gonna have a fucking car by the time I get back to it.”
I pause, tilting my head side to side, thinking it over. “You’re right. I didn’t think about your car... yeah, you really shouldn’t leave it alone in this neighborhood.”
His eyes narrow, and he throws his hands up. “You just said it’s not that bad here!”
I shrug, giving him a soft, understanding look. “Well... for me. Not for you.”
He looks like he’s about to explode. “That is so fucking ridiculous. I’m a foot and a half taller than you, and I’m a were—I mean, I know how to protect myself, but sure, let’s pretend you’re safer than me!” He says, swearing under his breath.
Resting my back against the door, we stare at each other again before I break the silence. “What are you—”
“You know how my sister has been trying to contact you? And you just keep ignoring her!” He interrupts me. “She’s been worried sick!” Ethan looks around with a sneer at my small place, his eyes hovering over the makeshift bed I made. “She’s worried about your health and your son’s,” he says through his teeth angrily. “She’s furious that you live in an apartment like this! In danger twenty-four hours a day! Living in a fucking studio that looks like it’s falling apart! I can’t even call this an apartment. It’s just a room!” Ethan frowns, turning his eyes to me. “She couldn’t stand this room’s stench.”
Wait. Vi doesn’t know where I live in this building. I narrow my eyes at him. It’s not his sister’s opinion he’s talking about. It’s his!
My head snaps back. “Hey! You don’t get to judge me. You have no clue what I’ve been through! So I’d appreciate it if you kept your opinions to yourself!”
Ethan runs a hand through his face, then crosses his arms over his chest, forcing those big biceps upward, drawing attention to them. He looks like a wall.
He appears to be trying to calm down. After a moment, he says in a much calmer tone. “You need to get out of here.”
“What do you mean?”
He cocks his jaw toward me. “You’re coming with me,” he says solemnly.
“Where to?” I ask, confused.
“You’re coming to my pa—” he clears his throat. “To Blackmoon.” Ethan blinks, taking a deep breath like it hurts to say it. “To Blackmoon with me.”