Chapter Fourteen

Becca

This morning I woke up in Ethan's arms and it both freaked me out and made me happy. It freaked me out because I'm not supposed to be getting serious with him, and spending the night with him felt serious. But I also felt happy because I love being with him and being in his arms.

As much as I like him, I don't want to fall for a guy who isn't available, so I keep telling myself to stay away. And yet here I am, in his house, spending the day with him. And he's calling me his girlfriend. He says he doesn't want this to end but we both know it will, probably when his classes start again or maybe when his football buddies come back for practice.

"What's wrong?" Ethan asks, sneaking up behind me as I stand at the kitchen counter. We had a late lunch and I'm cleaning up.

"Nothing's wrong." I turn around. "Why do you ask?"

"You got really quiet."

I smile. "Sorry. I'm just tired from work. It was a long week."

"Let's go watch a movie. Or I'll watch a movie and you can fall asleep on me."

"That sounds good."

We've already had sex twice since waking up, then showered, had lunch. There isn't much left to do when you're stuck at the house.

As predicted, I fall asleep during the movie. My two jobs suck the life out of me. I'm always exhausted on the weekends.

I wake up to the doorbell ringing. Ethan isn't around.

"Ethan?" I call out but he doesn't answer. He must be in the bathroom.

The bell rings again so I walk to the door and answer it. An older man is standing there.

"Hi, can I help you?" As I say it, I realize I know this man. I've seen him in the local paper. He's the head football coach at Laytham College.

"I'm Don Maverick. Ethan's coach." He smiles and extends his hand. "And you are?"

"Becca." I shake his hand. "I'm friends with Ethan."

"Is he home?"

"Um, yeah, but I think he's in the bathroom."

"Do you mind if I come in?"

What do I say? Do I let him in? What if Ethan doesn't want him here?

"I should probably go get Ethan." I turn to go find him.

"Becca."

"Yes?" I turn back and see the coach has come inside. "Could we talk for a moment?"

"Um, yeah. Okay." I walk back to him.

Where the hell is Ethan? And why hasn't he come back?

"This is the first time anyone's answered the door," the coach says. "Are you his girlfriend?"

"Kind of. We just started dating. So, um, why are you here?"

"To talk to Ethan. Whenever I stop by, he never answers the door and he won't answer my calls. I'm concerned about him."

"He doesn't really want to talk to anyone right now." I don't know if that's true. I know Ethan talks to his friends but I didn't know he hadn't talked to his coach.

"Do you know if he's left the house recently?"

"He went to the doctor but other than that, no. He doesn't like going out."

"Because he doesn't want people seeing him injured." The coach crosses his arms over his chest and sighs. "I understand where he's coming from. He has people watching him, wondering if he'll be able to play ball again. I know the pressure he's under. But he's been hiding here for weeks and people are starting to question his mental health. He needs to get out of this house. He needs to show people he's on the road to recovery." He pauses. "Unless he's not. Do you know how he's doing? Physically or...otherwise?"

Seriously, where the hell is Ethan? I glance behind me but he's not there. You'd think he would've heard the doorbell ring. It's not that big of a house. I look back at the coach. "Do you think maybe you could come back later? I'm not sure where Ethan went and—"

"Coach," Ethan says. I turn back and see Ethan coming toward us. "What are you doing here?"

Ethan sounds pissed, but is he mad at the coach for showing up here or at me for letting him in?

"We need to talk." Coach Maverick walks up to Ethan. "Let's sit down."

"I'm not sitting down and we're not talking. I told you, I'm not ready." Ethan takes a breath, trying to calm down. He doesn't want to yell at his coach. He's told me before how much he likes and respects the man, probably more than he does his own father.

"I just want to discuss some things."

"There's nothing to discuss. I can't play. My leg won't be ready."

"But your father said—"

"My father doesn't know shit. He's just telling you what you want to hear. You know what he's like so why would you listen to him? You know I can't heal that fast."

"Maybe so, but I still want you to attend practice in a couple weeks. The guys are counting on you being there."

"I'm not going to sit on the sidelines and watch them play. What's the point?"

"You're their leader. They need you there."

"I'm not their fuckin' leader." Ethan shakes his head. "Half those guys never listened to me before so they sure as hell aren't going to now that I can't play."

The coach narrows his eyes at Ethan. "Stop being so goddamn stubborn. You have a talent, son. A talent not many people have. Even with your injury, I've still got scouts calling me about you. You can still play pro. That dream hasn't died so don't give up on it. All athletes get injured and the scouts understand that. The sports media understands it too. But what you're doing now, hiding out here and never leaving the house, looks bad. People are starting to talk, wondering if you're struggling mentally."

"So what do you expect me to do? Go hang around town and put on a fake smile?"

"If you want to save your reputation, then yes. Take your girlfriend out. Go to dinner. See a movie. Do things people your age do. At least that way, people will stop questioning your mental health."

"So this is all about what other people want. How I look to the outside." He huffs. "Did my dad put you up to this?"

"Ethan." I hold his arm. "Coach Maverick is right. You need to get out of the house."

He rips his arm away. "Stay out of this."

"Ethan." The coach softens his voice. "I know you're struggling to deal with the accident but this isn't helping. You need to talk to someone. Let them help you move on."

"Move on?" He lets out a harsh laugh. "My friends are dead. I think it'll take a while before I can move on. And talking to a fucking counselor isn't going to help."

"Just give it some thought. In the meantime you need to get out of this house. Not for anyone else but yourself." He glances at me. "And I'm sure your girlfriend would like to go out once in a while."

"Are we done?" Ethan asks, sounding annoyed.

"I want you at practice. You're still part of the team and you're expected to be there."

Ethan just stares at the floor.

Coach pats him on the shoulder. "Take care. See you in a few weeks." He smiles at me. "Nice to meet you, Becca."

"Nice to meet you too." I walk him to the door.

When he's gone, Ethan says, "Why the hell did you let him in? You knew I didn't want to talk to him."

"Actually, no, you never told me that. The few times you've talked about your coach you told me how much you liked him. You said you two got along."

"Yeah, when I could play. But now I'm no use to him. He only came over here because my dad sent him."

"You don't know that. He seemed really concerned about you."

"Anyone can act concerned if they need to. My dad's probably paying him to check up on me, make sure I'm still working out."

I stand in front of Ethan, my hands on my hips. "Why do you act like this?"

"Like what?"

"Why do you always feel sorry for yourself? Yes, you hurt your leg but at least you're alive."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" He turns on his crutches and goes to the couch to sit down. "That I survived and they didn't? Do you know how much I—" He stops and takes a breath, squeezing the bridge of his nose. "Just forget it. I don't want to talk about it. If this is all you're going to talk about then just leave."

"Are you kidding me? You really want me to leave over this?"

"You shouldn't have let him in."

"I didn't know I wasn't allowed to let him in. You have no right to be mad at me about that."

"I told you I didn't want to see anyone." He glares at me. "How much clearer could I be?"

"Fine. I'll leave." I hurry to the bedroom and grab my clothes and stuff them in my bag. Back in the living room, I stop next to the couch where Ethan is sitting. "For the record, I didn't invite him in. When I saw him at the door, I went to find you to see if it was okay to let him in and then he said something and when I turned around he was already in the house. So I didn't LET him in. He let himself in." I storm to the door. "Goodbye, Ethan."

On the drive home, I'm fuming mad. Ethan kicked me out of his house for something I didn't even do. How was I supposed to know the coach was just going to walk in like that?

When I get to my apartment, Mike is in the kitchen making something, like actually using the stove, which he never does.

"You're cooking?" I ask as I sit at the kitchen table.

He turns away from the stove. "What are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming back until later tonight. Did Tina find another babysitter?"

"I wasn't babysitting."

"You weren't?" He turns the stove down and comes over to sit with me. "Where were you?"

"Don't get mad but...I was with Ethan."

"You spent the night there?" He raises his voice. "Becca, you've known him for less than a week."

"It's been more than a week and—"

"It doesn't matter. It's too soon to be spending the night." He shakes his head. "I'm gonna kill that guy. I knew he'd take advantage of you."

"He didn't take advantage of me. I willingly went over there."

"Yeah, and then he took advantage of you."

"Mike, seriously, you've gotta stop treating me like a kid. I'm 21. I'm plenty old enough to have—" I stop before saying 'sex' which would freak him out.

"I can't believe you did that! You're not even dating him."

"We are dating. We just haven't actually gone out."

"Because he doesn't want to be seen with you?" he asks harshly. "Are you not good enough for him?"

"That's not why. It's because he doesn't want people seeing him on the crutches. He thinks it makes him look weak or...I don't know. He just doesn't want people gossiping about him, or speculating about whether or not he'll ever play football again."

"They're already speculating. People are already predicting whether or not he'll play again. They've been doing that since the accident."

"Which is why he doesn't want to be seen. He doesn't want them making more assumptions that aren't true."

"You don't need this, Becca. Your life is hard enough, working two jobs, helping me out. You don't need the drama of some guy who sits around feeling sorry for himself."

It's true, but I still want to help him. Even though he won't admit it, I can tell Ethan's struggling, unable to get past the accident, unsure what's going to happen with his football career. And sitting alone in that house isn't making anything better.

"Maybe you could talk to him," I say.

"Why would I talk to him?"

"Because he's having a hard time right now. I know your situation is different, but what happened to you forced you to reevaluate your future, which is what's happening to Ethan. He seems lost, like he isn't sure where to go from here."

"His leg is broken, not gone, like mine. He'll be able to play football again. He'll go to the pros, just like he planned."

"Maybe not. He doesn't know yet. And even if he can play football again, I'm not sure if he wants to."

"He doesn't?"

"Shit." I cringe. "I wasn't supposed to tell you that. Don't tell anyone I said that."

"So what's he want to do?"

"I don't know. I don't think he does either, which is why he feels lost. I think talking to you might help."

"I doubt it. And honestly right now I'm so pissed at him for taking advantage of you that I'd probably punch him if I saw him."

Throwing my hands up, I say, "For the last time, he did not take advantage of me. We're dating. That's what dating people do."

"Don't talk about it." He gets up and returns to the stove. "I don't even want to think about that."

It dawns on me that this is the first time Mike's seen me date someone. He was deployed overseas when I started dating in high school, and since he's been back, I haven't had a boyfriend until now. So it makes sense Mike's reacting this way. It's just annoying because he makes me feel like a kid.

Wanting to get off this topic, I walk over to the stove where he's stirring something in a pot.

"What are you making?" I ask.

"Tacos. I'm making the meat and Heather's doing the rest. She volunteered to make the meat too but I told her I'd do it. It's one of the few things I can cook."

I smile. "You're going out with Heather again?"

"We're not going out. We're staying in. We were going to have dinner here but that's when I thought you weren't coming home. I'll text her and tell her I'm going down to her place."

"Are you saying you don't want me around?" I tease. "What exactly are you two going to do?"

"Have dinner. Then watch a movie."

"Along with a few other things." I hop up on the counter next to the stove. "Are you spending the night there?"

"That's up to her."

"So you can spend the night with someone, but I can't."

He looks at me. "I'm 26. You're 21."

"Are you saying I'm immature?"

"No, but Ethan is, and like I said, you don't need that kind of drama in your life."

"He's not immature, and the drama will go away once he figures out his future."

"Which you won't be a part of."

"I don't have to be. I'm not looking to marry the guy. We're just...hanging out."

Mike gives me a disapproving look, then shakes his head as he stirs the taco meat. "Are you going back to his place later?"

"No. I'm staying here. I have stuff to do." I'm not telling Mike about Ethan kicking me out. Doing so would make Mike think even less of him.

"You're dating him and yet you're not hanging out with him on a Saturday night?"

"I told you, I have stuff to do."

"Did he tell you to leave?"

Mike is always so damn perceptive. Sometimes I swear he's a mindreader. Maybe they teach you that in the military.

"He didn't tell me to leave. I left on my own. Now tell me about Heather."

"She's awesome." He gets a big grin on his face. "I know we just started dating but I really feel like there might be something there."

"So this might get serious?"

He shrugs. "Maybe. It's too soon to tell. But we have a lot in common and we get along great so there's potential for a serious relationship."

"Does she want that?"

"I don't know. We haven't talked about it."

"Do you want that?" I'm hoping he'll say he does. It's obvious he really likes this girl so the only thing holding him back is whatever love he still has for Tricia.

"With the right girl, yeah, I do want that. I'm just not sure I'm ready for it yet. For now, I just like spending time with Heather. She has so much compassion for people. She's so much different than...." His voice trails off before he says Tricia's name. He's trying not to talk about her anymore. But he's right. She had no compassion for people. She was all about herself and her own needs.

Mike shuts the stove off. "I'm going to head down there." He scoops the taco meat into a bowl. "You want to join us?"

I laugh. "On your date? No thanks."

"I'm only inviting you for dinner." He smiles at me. "After that you need to get lost."

I hop off the counter. "I'd rather stay here than watch you two lovebirds make out."

"So what exactly is this stuff you need to get done?"

"Clean my room. Vacuum. Maybe do some laundry."

"You'd rather do laundry on a Saturday night than be with your boyfriend?" He gives me a suspicious look. "Are you sure something didn't happen?"

"Nothing happened. I just want some time alone to catch up on a few things."

He finally stops badgering me, probably because he's in a hurry to see Heather. He covers the meat with plastic wrap and heads to the door. "See ya later. If you need anything you know where to find me."

"Are you spending the night or not?"

He grins. "We'll see how it goes."

After he's gone, I check my phone but don't see any messages. I wonder what Ethan's doing. After the way he treated me, I shouldn't care, and yet I do. But I resist calling him. If he wants to see me or talk to me, he'll have to be the one to reach out.

***

Around eight, I take a long shower, then toss on sweats and a t-shirt, preparing for a night of watching TV and eating junk food on the couch.

Just as I'm sitting down, the doorbell rings. I answer it and find Ethan standing there on his crutches, wearing faded jeans and a white t-shirt, his hair mussed up like he just ran his hands through it. He's annoyingly hot. The kind of hot that causes girls to make bad decisions.

"Hey." He glances down, then back up.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you."

"Why? You told me to leave, remember?"

"Yeah. About that. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"No. You shouldn't have."

"It was just that I didn't expect the coach to show up and I was..." He takes a breath. "Never mind." He looks at me. "I was being an ass. I'm sorry."

At least he seems sincere. In the past I've dated guys who say they're sorry but don't mean it.

"You want to come in?" I hold the door open and step aside.

"Is your brother here?" he asks as he walks into the apartment.

"No. He's on a date with the girl downstairs."

"The one he met when the fire alarms went off?"

"Yeah. Heather. I only met her one time but she seemed nice." I watch as he stops and adjusts his crutches under his arms. "How'd you get here?"

"I took a cab."

"You could've called me."

"I didn't think you'd come pick me up."

"You're right. I probably wouldn't have."

He steps closer to me. "Will you forgive me?"

"Maybe." I turn my head to the side. "It depends."

"On what?" His hand goes under my chin, turning my face back to his.

I look into those deep brown eyes and feel myself falling under his spell. I swear that's what it is. Why else would I be so desperate to kiss him? He told me to leave. I should be mad at him.

He lowers his lips to mine and softly kisses me. I kiss him back, feeling like I'm about to make all kinds of bad decisions. I'm usually better able to resist a guy's charm but I can't seem to do it with Ethan.

"You want to sit down?" I ask, forcing myself to back away before the kiss turns into something more.

"Sure." He follows me to the couch.

I pick up the remote. "I was just getting ready to watch TV. I don't know what's on."

He's quiet as I flip through the channels. I stop when I find a movie. We watch for a few minutes, not saying anything.

"Is that you?" He points to a photo on the wall next to the TV. It's a picture of my dad, Mike, and me. It was taken at Mike's high school graduation and is one of the few photos we have of the three of us together. I looked a lot different back then. My hair was short and I'd dyed it blond. My friend dyed it for me and left the color on too long. The chemicals completely fried my hair so I had to cut it short. That was my last attempt at ever trying to color my own hair.

"Yeah, that's me with Mike and my dad."

Ethan leans forward to get a closer look. "It's strange seeing you with blond hair."

"It wasn't supposed to be that blond. My friend forgot to set the timer for the color and she left it on too long."

He sits back and smiles. "You wanted to be a blond?"

I kiddingly shove his arm. "Don't make fun of me. It was a phase I was going through."

"Was it for a guy?"

"Yes," I mutter, ashamed to admit that.

"Did you go out with him?"

"No. He wasn't interested. He was on the football team and only dated cheerleaders."

"And you weren't a cheerleader," he confirms.

"I tried out but didn't make it. I'm not coordinated enough and I couldn't remember the routines they taught us."

"If he only dated cheerleaders then why'd you try so hard to get his attention?"

"Because that's what girls do at that age. We do stupid things to get a guy's attention."

"I would've dated you."

I let out a laugh. "Yeah, right." I motion to the photo. "Did you see how skinny I was? I didn't even have boobs back then."

He glances at the picture. "You were still cute. I totally would've dated you."

"I don't believe you. I bet you were just like Lance. That's his name. The guy I wanted to date. I bet you only dated cheerleaders."

"I did, but it's not like it was intentional. It was just that they were always around, going to the games, going to football parties, so it made sense that we'd hook up."

By 'hook up' I'm sure he's referring to sex and not just dating. With his good looks, money, and talent on the football field, he can get sex whenever he wants. He has girls lining up to give it to him.

So what does that mean for me? Am I just another girl he'll have sex with, then forget about? And if so, am I okay with that? Given the feelings I'm starting to have for Ethan, I don't know if I am.