His words should be reassuring, but they sit heavy in my stomach instead. That stubborn little seed of self-doubt burrows a little deeper into my chest, reminding me that maybe one day I might be the woman Ethan says those same words about—to another woman.
When I smile, it’s wobbly and forced. Averting my gaze, I slide into his SUV and wait for him to close the door behind me then I take a deep, steadying breath.
Ethan slides into the driver’s seat and starts up the car. His hand finds mine automatically, casually lacing his fingers in mine on the center console.
I try to enjoy the drive back to Ethan’s house, the comfortable quiet and the soft, rhythmic stroke of his thumb over the back of my hand, but I can’t shake the thought of all of this ending eventually. The dread of being just another woman who foolishly hoped for more than Ethan North was willing to give.
We pull into his driveway. His house looms in front of me, three stories of brick and carved stone, its arched windows glowing warmly against the darkness of the evening. I’ve been here so many times, but it feels different all of a sudden. It’s not just a house; it’s proof. Proof that Ethan is Denver’s most eligible bachelor, the CEO of a hugely successful company, the man who lives in a place with more bathrooms than I have pairs of shoes.
We are unevenly matched in every conceivable way.
He cuts the engine and steps out without a word, then circles around to open my door. I attempt a neutral expression, but when I slide out of the car and stand in front of him, Ethan’s gaze locks on mine and I know I’ve failed.
His brow creases. “What is it?” he asks, voice low, coaxing.
I want to tell him it’s nothing, that I’m fine, but the words are lodged in my chest. Instead, I give a quick, nearly imperceptible shake of my head and force one side of my mouth into a dull smile.
“Margot?” Ethan’s tone is slightly more alarmed now, his eyes searching mine. “What’s wrong? Are you upset about what happened at the restaurant?”
“No, it’s not that,” I say slowly.
“Then what is it?”
Ethan continues studying my face. I feel his gaze even as I avert mine to the ground, trying to find the right words.
Honestly, the right words for the situation are probably no words at all. It would be easier to plaster on a smile and carry on with our night. None of this is new information. Ethan’s always been rich, charming, and desirable. I’ve always been… well, me. Sort of plain, intensely reserved, and slightly dorky. Nothing has changed. Yet, if feels like it has, and if we don’t talk about it, these feelings will fester like an open wound. It might be easier to ignore it, but then it will never heal properly.
When I look back up at Ethan, he’s regarding me softly and patiently.
My chest rises and falls with a deep, steeling breath. “It’s just… hearing you talk about Juliette made me realize that I need to recalibrate my expectations.”
The crease between Ethan’s brows deepens, and the tiny trace of a smile on his lips flattens. “What do you mean?”
Immediately, I regret saying anything at all. Having to explain to Ethan that I maybe kinda sorta let my hopes about him—aboutus—run a little wild makes me feel itchy and pathetic. While my brain has always understood that this thing between us is unlikely to become serious or permanent, my heart has been clinging to any evidence to the contrary.
“I think I got too caught up in my own feelings,” I explain. “I let my expectations go unchecked. But that’s totally on me. You’ve been clear from the beginning that this isn’t a relationship.”
He takes a step closer, reaching for me. “Then what would you call it, Margot?”
“We aren’t labelling it, remember?”
“Hmm…” He pulls me close, humming an acknowledgement against my skin. Then he starts kissing my neck. I melt into him. “Let’s play a game,” he says between planting kisses on the curve of my shoulder. “I’ll give you a label and you tell me if it applies to us.”
“Okay…”
A kiss where my shoulder meets my neck.
“Co-workers.”
“Technically.”
Another kiss, slightly higher this time.
“Friends.”
“Obviously,” I smile, curling my toes in anticipation of the next kiss.
“Lovers.”