Chapter Twenty-Eight

Becca

I haven't talked to Ethan in weeks. He calls every day and leaves a message, asking me to call him, but I never call him back.

It's now the end of August and Ethan will be back in class next week. I'm guessing once he's busy with school, he'll stop calling.

"Another message?" Tina asks, coming into the break room as I'm checking my phone.

"It's from Mike. He said he'll be out late with Heather tonight. They're going to a concert."

"What ever happened to Tricia?" She takes the lipstick from her apron and goes over to the mirror on the wall. "Is she still calling him?"

"Not that I know of. And she hasn't tried calling me either. I must've scared her off."

"Maybe she's dating someone else and will finally leave Mike alone."

"I hope so."

"So no messages from you-know-who?" Tina knows better than to say Ethan's name. I'm trying to forget about him so I've told her not to talk about him. Of course she doesn't listen but I at least got her to stop saying his name.

"Not today, but I'm sure I'll get one. He leaves me one every day."

She swipes red lipstick over her lips. "Why don't you just call him back?" 

"Because I'm trying to get over him and talking to him will just make it harder."

She tucks her lipstick into her apron and turns to face me. "It's been weeks since you broke up with him. It should be getting easier, but it's not, is it?"

I sigh. "No. It's so frustrating. I've never had this hard of a time getting over someone."

"Because you've never been in love before." She grins.

"That's not it. It's just—I don't know what my problem is. I just need more time, I guess."

"Order up for Becca," Max sings from the kitchen.

"What's he talking about?" I say to Tina. "I don't have any orders in."

She shrugs. "Maybe he read the ticket wrong."

I yell out to the kitchen. "What table?"

"Seven."

"That's mine," Tina says. "Max must've forgot. I'll see you out there." She leaves and less than a minute later, she appears in the break room again.

"That was fast," I say. "What'd you do? Sprint to the table?"

"Um, no." She bites her lip, like she's trying to hold back a smile. "Actually, Max was right. It's your order, not mine."

"It's not mine. Table seven is yours."

"I know but I can't take it out there." She sits down and holds her stomach. "I'm not feeling well."

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know. It must be something I ate. Can you take the order out for me?"

"Okay. Just wait here. I'll handle your tables until you feel better."

She nods and I go in the kitchen to get the order. It's a plate of fried chicken with a side of fries. "Tina isn't feeling well."

Max just nods, a slight smile creeping up his chubby red cheeks. He's acting strange. Usually he'd sing something as I take the food, but instead he just watches me.

Weird.

When I get to the dining room, I abruptly stop, my breath catching when I see who's at table seven. It's Ethan, looking hotter than ever, wearing a white polo shirt, his skin tinted a dark golden brown from the sun. His shirt is fitted, outlining his muscular shoulders and chest. I love his body. It's one of the many things I miss about him. And his face. Those deep brown eyes and that chiseled jaw, covered in a light layer of stubble.

I can't do this. I can't go over there.

He's looking at his phone. He hasn't seen me. I could sneak back in the kitchen and hide there until he's gone.

Just as I'm about to turn back, he glances up from his phone and sees me. He doesn't smile, but instead just looks at me, our eyes connecting in a heated stare. I already feel a tingle between my legs, remembering what it was like to be with him.

Maybe that's why I can't get over him. The sex was too damn good.

I quickly walk over to his table and set his plate down. "Do you need anything else?"

I assume he'll beg me to sit down and talk to him, but instead he says, "No, I'm good. Thanks."

That's it? That's all he's going to say? He hasn't seen me in weeks and that's all he says?

Maybe he's moved on. Maybe that's why he's been calling me. To let me know he has someone else. If so, that's really rude. I don't need to know he has someone else. He should keep that to himself.

"Becca?" I hear his voice as I'm walking away.

I turn back. "Yes?"

"Could I have some hot sauce?" He holds up the empty bottle on the table. "This one's out."

"Um, yeah, okay." I go over and take the bottle from him and my hand brushes against his, making me almost drop the bottle.

"Got it?" he asks, smiling. Damn, that smile. More tingling. Shit.

"Yeah. I'll be right back."

I hurry to the kitchen, feeling breathless and completely flustered. Why am I acting this way? I didn't act this way when we dated, but now I'm all nervous around him. Is it because he didn't react the way I thought he would?

"Becca, Becca, your cheeks are red," Max sings. "What's going on in that cute little head?"

"Max, not now. I'm not in the mood." I reach under the counter and find the jug of hot sauce we use to refill the bottles.

Max continues to sing. "Something's up at table seven. Becca's little slice of heaven." And then he laughs.

"Seriously?" I glare at him, annoyed. "Slice of heaven? I thought you hated him."

"I didn't say I hated him." He puts a basket of chicken in the fryer and sets the timer. "In fact, we've been hanging out."

"What?" I almost drop the now-full bottle of hot sauce. "You've been hanging out with Ethan?"

He feigns shock, rearing back as he points at me. "You're not supposed to say his name!"

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, I can break my own rule. Now are you joking or have you really been hanging out with Ethan?"

"He came to a cookout at my house a few weeks ago. Then I went to his house. Gave him a cooking lesson. Taught him to use the grill. Then I went to one of his parties and—"

"Wait." I set the bottle down. "Let me get this straight. This whole time, you've been talking to Ethan, hanging out with him, and you never even thought to mention this to me?"

"You told me not to talk about him."

"Yeah, but—"

"Mike's been hanging out with him too."

My jaw drops and Max laughs.

"You should see your face. I should get a picture." He takes out his phone but I grab it from him.

"How do you know this about Mike?"

"He was at Ethan's party last weekend. Heather was there too."

My jaw drops again.

Max grabs his phone. "Sorry, but I need a photo of this."

He holds his phone up but I swat it away. "You're telling me that Mike, my own brother, has been lying to me?"

"He didn't lie. He just didn't tell you."

"Same thing."

"Not really. Where did he tell you he went last Saturday?"

I stop to think. "To a party."

"There you go. He didn't lie." Max lifts the basket from the fryer and shakes it, then drops it in the hot grease again.

"He should've told me. You BOTH should have."

"We were just following your rules. No talking about Ethan."

I glance at the break room. "Did Tina know this was going on?"

"No, but she does now. I just told her." He motions to the dining room. "You better get back out there. Ethan's waiting for his hot sauce."

I start to leave, then stop. "How do you know it's for him?" I narrow my eyes at Max. "Did you purposely give him an empty bottle so I'd have to fill it and go back out there?"

He laughs. "You're being paranoid. Just go give the guy his sauce."

I race back to the dining room, stopping at Ethan's table and setting the sauce down.

He glances at me. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

He sprinkles the sauce on his chicken, then takes a bite, like I'm not even there. What the hell? Did he seriously just come here to eat chicken?

I should go back in the kitchen and not come out until he's gone. That would be the smart thing to do. But instead, I sit across from him.

He says nothing. Nothing! Just eats his stupid chicken.

"So you're not going to say anything?"

He glances at me. "You said you didn't want to talk to me. You asked me to leave you alone."

"And yet you're here. Where I work."

"I was craving the chicken. I came here a couple Saturdays ago with the guys and I wanted to have the chicken again."

So he came here on a Saturday, when I wasn't working. Maybe he really is just here for the chicken. Now I'm embarrassed for accusing him of only being here because of me. But if he's no longer interested in me, why does he keep calling me?

"Max said you two have been hanging out," I say.

"Not a lot but a few times." He takes a drink of his pop, his large hand wrapped around the glass. Damn, I miss those hands, and what he does with them.

I look away.

"Are you on break?" he asks.

"Um, no. I just got off break."

"If you need to get back to work, go ahead. I don't want you to get in trouble."

He's sending me away? So I guess he's finally given up on me. He must have someone else. But why didn't Mike tell me? And why the hell didn't Mike let me know he'd been hanging out with Ethan?

"Max said my brother was at your party last week," I say, not ready to leave yet. I should, but I don't.

"Yeah. He and Heather came over," Ethan says, like it's no big deal.

"So, um...are you two friends or what?"

"Yeah. He didn't tell you?" Ethan grins a little. He knows Mike didn't tell me.

What the hell is going on here? Why are the guys in my life conspiring against me? Okay, maybe they're not conspiring but they're definitely keeping secrets.

"He didn't mention you two were friends."

"I haven't seen him much lately with football practice, which is why I invited him to the party."

Football practice. I almost forgot. His leg! I look under the table and see his leg is no longer in a cast.

"When did you get the cast off?"

"A few weeks ago. They took it off early because my leg was healing faster than expected."

"Ethan, that's great!" I smile, truly happy for him. I know how much he hated having his leg in a cast.

"Yeah. I'm finally able to move around again instead of being stuck on the couch. I actually leave the house now. In fact, I'm hardly ever home. I'm always at the gym or on the field."

"So you're going to play again?"

"Not right away, but I'm hoping by October."

"And...it's what you want?" I ask hesitantly.

He smiles. "Yeah. It's what I want."

And from his tone, I can tell it's true. So he made a decision, and it sounds like it's his decision, not his coach's or his dad's.

"I'm really happy for you," I tell him. "It seems like everything's coming together for you."

He glances down at his plate. "Yeah. I pretty much have everything I ever wanted."

Pretty much? What does that mean? It makes me wonder if his dad is being a jerk again.

"Are you having problems with your dad?" I ask, then realize I shouldn't have asked. It's too personal. He'll shut down.

"My dad's the same as always. He'll never change. I decided to stop worrying about him. But he IS a good agent so I'll probably let him work for me when the time comes."

"So you've decided to play professionally?"

"I have." His eyes go to mine. "What do you think about that?"

I shrug. "If it's what you want to do, then I think it's good."

"It's a lot of travel. I'll be on the road a lot."

"Yeah? So? Why is that a problem?"

He doesn't answer. Maybe he has a girlfriend, and being on the road he'll miss her. It must be serious if he's already thinking about that. It pains me to think of him with someone else. It shouldn't, but it does. A lot.

"So what's new with you?" Ethan asks, wiping his hands on his napkin and sliding his plate aside.

"I'm going back to nursing school."

"Oh, yeah? When?"

"In January. Mike's medical disability got approved so he's getting checks from the military now which help cover our bills."

"So you can quit one of your jobs?"

 "I could, but I'm not going to. I want to save up money for school so I won't have to work a lot of hours once classes start."

"And it's what you want to do? Nursing?"

"Truthfully?" I sigh. "Not really. But don't tell Mike that. Or anyone else. Actually, forget I said it. It's what I'm going to do. I'm sure I'll learn to like it."

"You know," he leans toward me across the table, "someone once told me I should do what I love. Maybe you should take her advice."

I swallow, trying not to react to his close proximity. "That advice was for people who have money."

"Why should only people with money be happy in what they do for a living?"

"That's just how it works. It's life."

"Doesn't have to be."

"Miss!" The old man at table two waves at me. "We need the check."

"I'll get it!" Tina says, winking at me as she hurries over to table two.

"Guess you need to get back to work," Ethan says. "Tell Max the chicken was awesome, as always." He takes his wallet out and drops a fifty on the table.

I take it and stand up. "I'll get your change."

"Keep it." He flashes his sexy smile. "I liked the service."

His meal was only ten dollars, making it a forty dollar tip. I'll give it to Tina. This is her table and she needs the money more than I do.

"Good seeing you." Ethan gets up and leaves.

Back in the kitchen, Tina practically shouts, "What did he say? Did he beg you to come back?"

"No. Just the opposite," I say, trying not to sound disappointed. But a part of me is. I thought Ethan wanted me back. Even though I said we were over, deep-down, I didn't want it to be true.

I still love him. I still want to be with him. But we're headed in different directions and I have to accept that.

"Then why was he here?" Tina asks.

"To eat chicken."

"C'mon, Becca. There's no way he showed up here just to eat chicken. He's been calling you every day since you broke up with him. He wants you back."

"From our conversation just now, I don't think he does. He's moved on. He's back to playing football and...I think he might have someone else."

She frowns. "Are you sure?"

"No, but he didn't act interested in me. It was more like we were just friends, which I guess is good. It's what I said I wanted."

She shakes her head really fast. "I don't believe it."

"Believe what?"

"That he has someone else. Or that he's over you." She drags me back to the break room. "Get your phone out and call him."

"What? No. I'm not calling him. Why would I call him?"

"To tell him you want him back."

"I don't want him back. I broke up with him, remember? And I haven't returned any of his calls."

"Because you're stubborn as a mule, which is really annoying by the way. You should work on that." She laughs when she sees my shocked expression. "Anyway, call Ethan. Right now. I'll take care of your tables."

"Tina, I'm not calling him. We're over. It's done."

"Seriously, that stubborn attitude has to end. It's keeping you from being happy."

"What are you talking about? I'm happy," I insist.

"Not as happy as you were when you were with Ethan. Now hurry up and call him."

"For the last time, I am not dating him. It would never work between us."

"Says who?"

"Me. I've seen enough relationships fail to know that it's no use even trying."

"So this is about your mom and dad? And Mike and Tricia?"

"That's not what I meant, but yes, those are good examples. And they all had normal lives, unlike Ethan. Ethan's going to be a big football star. Can you imagine being married to someone like that?"

"Married?" She smiles. "Who said anything about marriage? Have you thought about marrying Ethan?"

"No! Of course not. I just—forget it. I have to get back to work." I try to go around her but she blocks the door.

"Call him."

"No. Now let me out."

She sighs. "You are SO stubborn."

She moves out of the way and we continue our shift.

On my way home, I keep thinking about what Ethan said, specifically the part about how he'd be traveling a lot when he plays pro ball. I still don't get why that's an issue. It's part of being on the team, and if that's what he wants to do, he shouldn't care about being on the road.

I'm almost at my apartment but then stop and make a U-turn and go the other direction towards Ethan's house. Don't ask me why. Seeing him again got my brain all messed up and I'm not thinking straight. Plus, I have to know why he acted that way tonight, as if we're just friends after he spent all those weeks calling me, leaving messages on my phone.

It's after midnight when I knock on his door. Maybe he's asleep. Shit, I didn't even think about that. He's in training now. He needs his sleep. He probably went to bed hours ago.

I turn around and quickly walk back to my van.

"Becca?" I hear Ethan's voice and turn back to see him standing at the door, wearing navy blue basketball shorts and no shirt. His chest and arms are pure muscle. I can't look away. I should, but I can't.

"Becca, come inside."

My eyes quickly dart up at his face. "Um, no, that's okay. I forgot how late it was. Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't wake me. I was out back doing some stretches."

"Oh, well, I don't want to interrupt. I'll stop by some other time." I turn to leave.

"Becca, get back here."

I wish I hadn't done this. What was I thinking? I can't even remember why I came over here.

I should leave. The keys are in my hand. The van is right there.

And yet, moments later, I find myself standing in his living room.

"Seems like we've done this before," Ethan says, a slight smile on his face.

"Done what?"

"You knocking on my door at midnight. Unexpectedly."

"Yeah, about that. I didn't mean to come here this late. I can come back some other time."

"You drove here. Got out of your car. Knocked on the door. It seems like you DID mean to come here. Now would you like to tell me why?"

I look down at the floor, nervously chewing on my lip.

"Becca." I hear his deep sexy voice saying my name and the damn tingling starts up again. From just his voice. Shit, I'm in trouble. "Would you like to tell me why you stopped by?"

"Not really," I mutter.

"See something interesting down there?" he asks, referring to the fact that I'm still looking at the floor.

"I was just noticing it's very clean. Lois does a great job. You should tip her well."

"I always do. But not as much as I used to tip my previous maid. Then again, I didn't pay her in money, so it's really not comparable."

When I cleaned for him, I didn't want him giving me tips because we always spent the afternoon having sex, and if he gave me money I'd feel like it was for the sex, not the cleaning. So he tipped me by pleasuring me in the bedroom, all different ways. Ways I'd never experienced before Ethan came along.

Now I'm thinking about that and it's making my heart beat faster. Or maybe it's because Ethan just stepped closer to me.

He puts his hand under my chin, lifting my face up to his. "What are you thinking about?"

I stare into his eyes, which must mess with my brain because I answer honestly. "You."

"What about me?" His hand slides around to the back of my neck and he gently rubs his thumb along my hairline, sending a tingle down my spine.

"I was just remembering." I close my eyes as he continues to rub his thumb along the base of my scalp.

"Remembering what?" I feel the heat of his body as he steps even closer, his scent surrounding me. That heady, masculine scent that draws me even further into a place I shouldn't go.

"I was remembering...how we used to..." My voice trails off as I feel his hand move down the neckline of my dress, his fingers brushing over my skin. It sends a shiver through me and my eyes pop open.

He's gazing down at his hand, which has stopped at the top button of my dress. His eyes lift to mine, and boldly, without a hint of hesitation, he undoes the top button.

"You were remembering..." He undoes the next button. "How we used to what?"

"How you..." I close my eyes so I can think of what to say. I'm so turned on, I'm having trouble forming words. "How you used to..." I lose my thought as his hand slides under my now open dress and cups my breast.

I feel his mouth by my ear. "How I used to what?"

"Touch me," I breathe out.

His other hand reaches down and slips under my dress. "Like this?" he asks, his fingers moving slowly up the inside of my thigh. 

I think I nod but I'm not sure.

"And this?" He moves my panties aside and touches the spot that makes me moan in pleasure.

I feel his mouth over mine, then hear him whisper, "I miss you, Becca."

My eyes open and I see him looking at me. "I miss you too."

We kiss and my hands go to his muscular chest, his abs, down to the front of his shorts, stroking him, feeling how much he wants me. I want him too.

"Becca," he groans. "Tell me we're doing this."

"We're doing this." I smile against his lips.

He kisses me once more, then takes my hand and leads me to his bedroom. Standing by the bed, I shimmy out of my dress, then realize it's my uniform.

"Oh, shit."

"What?" he asks, shoving off his shorts.

"I just got off work. I smell like chicken."

He laughs. "I don't care. Get over here." He pulls me toward him and I get a whiff of my hair, which smells like grease.

I pull away. "I have to shower. I can't smell like this."

He grins. "Good idea. We've never done it in the shower. Now with my cast off, we finally can."

"No, that's not why I suggested it. I have to get this—"

He kisses me, then scoops me up and carries me into his bathroom, keeping hold of me as he starts the water.

"You can set me down," I say.

"And risk you running off? Not a chance in hell." He opens the shower door and goes inside, then sets me down in front of him. My girly shower gel is still there on the shelf, which makes me smile. I can see it hasn't been used by anyone else, which also makes me smile. I grab the bottle and pour some in my hand.

"Let me do it," Ethan says, turning my hand over so the soap falls onto his palm. Then he turns me around and slides his hands over my breasts while kissing the side of my neck.

"I think those are clean," I say, smiling.

"I have to make sure." He gently tugs on my nipples and a quiver of pleasure shoots down my core. I tip my head back against his warm chest, my eyes shutting as the water flows over us.

He continues to lather me up, paying extra attention to the areas he knows drive me wild from his touch. I love that he knows me so well. I love HIM. I don't know want that means for the future, but right now I don't care. I just want to be with him.

"Ethan," I moan as the peak of pleasure hits me. That was the second time. The first time happened from him just touching me with his hands. We haven't been in here that long and I've already come twice, thanks to Ethan. The boy knows what he's doing.

He sets me down on the floor of the shower. I'm exhausted. My legs are weak. I can barely stand up. But it's the best kind of tired. The kind where you're completely relaxed after having been with the man you love. 

I'm afraid to tell him how I feel, but I want to. I know we still have issues to work out and I'm still worried he won't talk to me, but I've given that a lot of thought and Mike is right. Guys can't talk until they're ready to, so maybe that's just how it has to be. I can't force Ethan to talk. I have to wait until he's ready.

"Becca, look at me," Ethan says as we're lying in bed, my head on his chest.

I look up at him and smile. "Yeah?"

"I don't know what tonight is. If it's just sex or if you were just lonely or what...but to me it's more than that."

"That's not—"

"Let me finish." He looks down. "After you broke up with me, I wanted to see you so bad. I wanted to talk to you. I left you all those messages hoping you'd call me back but part of me hoped you wouldn't."

"Why?"

"Because I wasn't ready. I wanted you back but I wasn't ready. But now I am." He swallows. "I wasn't in a good place when we met. Honestly there were some days I just wanted to end it. I blamed myself for what happened. Blamed myself for their deaths. I didn't think I deserved to live."

"Ethan." I feel tears forming and one escapes down my cheek.

"I don't feel that way anymore. Now I love my life. I love it more than I did before the accident. I don't take things for granted anymore. I finally see how lucky I am to have this talent. To have the opportunities I've been given. I finally feel good about my future. The only thing missing is someone to share it with." He reaches down to hold my hand, which is resting on his chest. "Like I said before, I don't know why you came here tonight. Maybe this is goodbye. But I hope not, because..." He sets his eyes on mine. "I love you, Becca. I love you so damn much. I know I didn't treat you well and I probably don't deserve you, but if you gave me another chance, I promise you—"

"Don't," I say, stopping him. "I don't need promises. You love me and that's all I care about."

"But what does that mean? For us?"

"It means I love you, and want to be with you."

"Then why did you leave me?"

I sit up and face him. "Because I needed you to talk to me. I saw how much you were hurting and I wanted to help you, but when you wouldn't let me I had to leave. I couldn't love you and see you hurting like that and not be able to help. And you were angry. So angry. And you were taking it out on me. I wasn't going to let you treat me that way."

He sits up and takes me in his arms. "I know, and I'm so sorry I acted that way. I wish I could take it all back."

I pull away and look at him. "If we do this, if we get back together, I need you to at least try to let me in. I know talking about stuff isn't easy for you but maybe we could work on that together. I won't push you. I'll let you tell me when you're ready. I just need to know you trust me enough to tell me things. And to let me help you when you need it. I want to be the person you go to, Ethan. And I want you to be that person for me."

"You already are that person. You always were. I just had to deal with some things myself before I could you let you in. But I'm ready to now."

"I don't understand. If you wanted me back, why did you act like you weren't interested when you saw me at the restaurant earlier?"

He grins. "I was playing hard to get."

"But you called and left me messages every day. That's not exactly playing hard to get."

"Sure it is. I kept you guessing. My messages asked you to call me. I never said why. You had to call me if you wanted to find out. And look how upset you got when, after all those phone messages, I just sat there tonight at the restaurant and ate my chicken. I didn't even attempt to flirt with you, which drove you crazy. So crazy you showed up at my door at midnight."

"I'm sure at the restaurant you could tell how much I wanted you. I was totally breathless."

He chuckles. "Yeah, you were."

I kiddingly hit him. "Then why didn't you say something? You could've at least flirted a little so I'd know you were interested."

"I couldn't. I had to let you come to me. I've heard that's the best way to deal with people who are extremely stubborn. You have to let them come to you."

"I'm not stubborn!" I hit him again.

"Are you kidding me? He laughs. "You're the most stubborn person I've ever met. And my technique worked. You showed up."

"Whatever," I mumble.

"Come here." He hugs me, then kisses my head and lies us back down on the bed.

"Are you saying I can stay here tonight?"

"Yeah, but not tomorrow. Or the next night. Or the night after that."

I sit up. "Are you serious? I can't stay here?"

"No." He's smiling. "Because I'm moving tomorrow. Back to my apartment. Which you are more than welcome to stay at."

I fall back on his chest. "That was a mean joke."

"It wasn't that mean." He kisses me. "I love you."

"I love you too."