Chapter Three
Ethan
The sun filters through the thin curtains, lighting up the room. I throw a hand over my eyes and groan as the sunlight attempts to penetrate my eyelids. I can already feel a massive headache coming on. This is what I get for partying too hard and drinking too much. Again. I roll over and freeze, feeling a warm body beside me. Shit. She stayed the night. She, whose name I can’t remember, stretches and snuggles closer against my back. Squeezing my eyes shut tightly, I let out a breath, preparing myself for the awkwardness to come.
As I make an attempt to shift, my bedmate stirs again and I know she’s awake.
“Morning,” she purrs.
“Uh, morning.” She sits up, giving me space to maneuver. Swinging my legs over the mattress, I stand up and turn to look at her with a forced smile. She smiles up at me with sleepy brown eyes. Her blond hair hangs on her shoulders in a tousled curtain. She doesn’t make any effort to cover her nakedness. When her eyes lower and her smile widens, I remember that I, too, am naked. Clearing my throat, I grab my pants from the floor and pull them on.
“I have to get going,” I say. At the same time, I wrack my brain, trying to recall her name. I’m pretty sure it starts with an N, or maybe it’s an M. Oh, hell.
Her lips form a pretty pout, and she bats her eyelashes. “Already? You told me last night that you didn’t have any practice today.”
Me and my big mouth. “I have other business to attend to.” I really don’t. I’m just trying to get rid of her without hurting her feelings.
She huffs and gets up, flaunting her nude form. And what a nice form it is. That’s why she ended up in my bed last night. A group of women were lounging outside the stadium after practice yesterday evening, and this woman approached me. She charmed her way into my hotel room with her full red lips, ample breasts and long legs. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so easy, but damn, what fun I had last night. After we had dinner and a few rounds of drinks- okay, many rounds of drinks, we ended up in bed. That same scenario plays out much too often. Some women are just fascinated with bedding professional athletes, or perhaps it’s the money they’re more interested in. Frankly, I’m tired of it. I have been for some time now. But I keep up the charade of enjoying having a different woman in my bed every other night. After all, that is what is expected of me. I might as well give the tabloids something to write about.
“Maybe we can get together again tonight,” she suggests.
“Er, I can’t.”
“You sure, handsome?” She saunters to me and winds her arms around my neck.
Taking hold of her hands, I pry them from around me. How do I tell her that I was only ever interested in one night without sounding like a total asshole? I sigh. “Look, um…” Damn, I just can’t remember her name.
She steps away, placing her hands on her hips. The look on her face indicates that she is no longer amused. “You don’t remember my name, do you?”
I rub the back of my neck. And here we go. “I’m sorry.”
Wheeling around, the irate woman searches the room for her clothes. I watch her dress with angry, jerky movements. I feel bad that she is upset, but at least she’s leaving. As soon as she is fully dressed, she grabs her purse and heads to the door. “I thought we hit it off, you know,” she says, sending a glare my way.
My brows crease. Hit it off? Only a certain type of woman usually hangs around the football stadium, waiting to dig their manicured nails into players. What was she expecting from me after one night of sex, a marriage proposal? “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I don’t do relationships.”
She shrugs. “Your loss. And the name is Melissa.”
Right, that’s it, Melissa. Before I can respond, Melissa slams the door shut, leaving me staring at it, stunned. “Well, she took everything fairly well.” I let out a breath, feeling like I need a drink. The pain in my head reminds me that I had enough last night. I just never learn. My feet move toward the mini fridge in the lavish hotel room, but the ringing of my phone stops me. Going toward the nightstand instead, I swoop up my phone, already knowing who it is.
“Hi, Amanda.” My mood instantly lightens.
“Big brother! I wasn’t expecting you to answer. It’s early. I was expecting you to still be passed out from your wild night.”
I grin. “Well, I guess it wasn’t so wild after all, huh? What’s up?”
“I’m just giving you a gentle reminder that you need to get your ass to Connecticut in three weeks.”
Rolling my eyes, I grunt. “Do you seriously think I would forget about your wedding, baby sis?” I don’t see why I have to fly to Connecticut an entire week before the wedding. Returning home isn’t something I’m looking forward to. After I escaped the small town where nothing ever happens, I rarely returned to visit. “Hey, why can’t I just show up the night before or on the morning of the wedding?”
An aggravated growl sounds on the other end of the line. “Because you are a part of the damn wedding, Ethan. Lucas wants you to be a groomsman, remember?”
“The man doesn’t even know me,” I grumble. And I have never set eyes on him before, either. I don’t like the idea of my sister getting married at twenty-one to some guy I don’t know. But it’s her life.
“Nathan feels like he knows you. He’s a big fan of yours. You’re making us both very happy doing this.”
“Great, another fan,” I say dryly. I’m damn tired of fans. What I would like to have is a few real friends who don’t care who I am or how much money I have.
“You’ll like him, Ethan. I promise. I’m going to Connecticut tomorrow to get the ball rolling with planning and everything. Mom and dad will be flying up from Florida next week.”
“Okay. So I will see you in three weeks.”
“Yup. And I will most definitely keep calling you. You miss my special day, Ethan, and I will kill you, I swear.”
I can’t help but laugh. The image of my tiny sister taking me out is hilarious. “Relax, I’ll be there, and I will do anything you ask of me. I promise.”
“Good. I’m sure Lindsay will be happy to see you.” Amanda sighs. “I’m worried about her, you know. She barely keeps in contact with me. It’s like she avoids me sometimes. I have no idea what’s going on with her.”
My heart jumps at the mention of Lindsay. “Wait, Lindsay will be there? Has she finished art school already?”
“She didn’t go. Hey, I have to run. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”
“Love you too.” I hang up the phone, my heart still racing. Lindsay Williams. Thinking of the last time I saw her throws my emotions into upheaval. Suddenly, I can feel her lips on mine, the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips, the innocence and trust in her eyes. Blinking rapidly, I pull myself from my play of memories.
I haven’t seen Lindsay in almost four years. I tried to stay in contact with her after her graduation, after that afternoon in the pool house, but as Amanda said, it was as if she was avoiding me. The one time I got her, she expressed that she felt like she would be betraying her best friend if whatever was between us continued. Of course I told her that that train had left the station when we had sex. But she insisted that we end things. So, I stopped calling. She regretted what we had done. And I can’t blame her. What nice girl in their right mind would want to continue a relationship with a cad like me? I’m sure she’s seen all the magazines and entertainment reports that make me out to be a playboy. Sometimes I think it’s for the best that Lindsay doesn’t want to talk to me. And there are times when I experience a tinge of longing to talk to her, to see her. She is one of the most real people I know, apart from my family.
When I returned home years ago, I was pleasantly shocked to see the beauty she had evolved into and how outspoken she had become. The instant I saw her, the attraction had hit me in the gut like a ton of bricks, taking me completely off guard. I was guilty at first, because she was my little sister’s best friend, but I couldn’t keep my hands off of her in the end. Our friendship may have been ruined forever.
Seeing her when I return to Connecticut is going to be awkward, but I’m actually looking forward to seeing her again. She’s the only woman I have ever felt comfortable enough to be myself around. Perhaps it’s because I’ve known her since she was a kid. Seeing Lindsay will be the only good thing about going back to the small town that I hate. The question is, will she be happy to see me?