ELLIE
With every step I took, the muscles between my legs protested, reminding me of last night. Damn. Weren’t all the marks he left on my body enough? No low-cut tops for a while, Ellie. Something told me he did that on purpose. The bastard wanted me to remember.
"Ellie? I’m talking to you." Anna grabbed my arm, making me stop. We were leaving the lab to go to lunch.
"Sorry, what did you say?"
"Did something happen?" She scrutinized me. "What are you hiding?"
I still hadn’t decided if I would tell her everything that happened between me and Ethan. But I wouldn’t be able to hide it for long.
"Todd sent me flowers yesterday."
Maybe if I told a half-truth, she wouldn’t notice.
"He just doesn’t give up, does he? You’re not thinking about forgiving him, are you?"
"No!"
I hadn’t even had time to think about Todd in the last few hours.
"I know it might be hard. After all, the guy is literally an Italian Adonis, but don’t forget what you had to go through because of him."
"Don’t worry." I grabbed her arm and kept walking toward the exit.
"How can I not? I know you loved him, and now he’s back, living next door. I don’t want to see you hurt again."
"There’s absolutely no chance I’ll get close to him again."
"You don’t have to lie to me."
"Can we stop talking about this?"
"Fine. Then let’s talk about Morgan."
Lately, nothing annoyed me more than thinking about Todd. But thinking about Ethan wasn’t much better.
"I hope you mean Bennett; otherwise, I’d rather keep talking about Todd."
"There’s no reason to hate him so much."
"I’m trying to pretend he doesn’t exist, so help me out."
That would be difficult after last night. When all the memories kept coming back—his mouth, his hands, his words.
Who was I kidding? It wouldn’t be difficult; it would be impossible to forget the best sex of my life. But it wasn’t as if I had any other option. My night with Ethan Morgan would be just that—a memory I’d have to try to forget.
When I decided to do it, I knew it would be just once. After all, he’d made it clear he wasn’t the type to call the next day. And getting involved with Ethan didn’t seem like a good idea for many reasons beyond that.
At least he’d been honest with me, so I didn’t have to worry about having expectations of him or hoping for more.
But all those questions he asked last night didn’t make any sense. And I was aware I’d been a bit of a jerk to him, but I wanted to make it clear there was a line I wasn’t willing to cross.
And he must have understood that very well, since he didn’t bother getting out of bed while I dressed to leave, like a true asshole.
*
As if it wasn’t enough to spend the entire afternoon at work turned on, replaying every moment from last night, I couldn’t sleep either, but I refused to touch myself thinking about him.
My panties were soaked, my breathing irregular, and my body so hot that it was impossible to close my eyes and sleep. The need to feel him inside me was going to drive me crazy. I got up, irritated with myself.
Damn it! It was past midnight, and I had to work the next day. Maybe a movie would help me sleep. I left my bedroom and sat on the couch in the living room after grabbing a tub of chocolate ice cream from the fridge. Fuck Morgan and his huge dick.
At some point, I dozed off, and when I woke up to the sound of a knock at the door, the credits of *The Notebook* were rolling on the TV screen. Was I dreaming, or had someone actually knocked on my door in the middle of the night?
I realized it wasn’t a dream when I heard the knock again. My heart sped up a bit. Who would knock at this hour?
I got up and went to the door. I cracked it open to see who it was.
What the hell was Todd thinking?
"You’ve got to be kidding me," I said, opening the door.
"Hi... El!" he slurred.
Was he drunk?
"I can’t believe you’re knocking on my door drunk."
"I..." He rested his arm on the wall beside the door. "I’m so sorry, El... I wish I’d never left you," he said with a defeated expression and a lost look in his eyes. Shit. I couldn’t deal with this right now.
"Don’t do this."
"Only now do I see how much of an idiot I was... I had everything I want most now and didn’t value it enough." His voice began to break. I panicked when I realized he was about to cry in front of me.
"It’s okay." I stroked his arm, trying to console him. "Let it go."
"I wish I could go back in time and do everything differently."
"It’s okay. You’re just a little drunk; you’ll feel better tomorrow."
"I won’t." He turned, resting his back against the wall, then slid down to the floor, propping his arms on his knees. "I’ve been trying to deal with this for a while, even before I came back." I hated how my chest tightened at seeing his torment. I shouldn’t feel bad for him.
"Where are your keys? Let me help you get into your apartment." I tried to ignore the anxiety in my chest. He buried his face in his hands.
"I’m sorry... I know I’m being a pain in the ass." I sighed before closing the door and kneeling beside him, squeezing his shoulder.
"It’s okay." I wanted to be cold, unshakable, and not let seeing him like this affect me in any way, but I wasn’t like that. I knew I had a soft heart, after all. I didn’t want anyone to go through what I did, even if it was the person who had made me suffer.
I still remembered the pain well, an unbearable pain that had no remedy except time. I learned early on that feeling this pain was the risk we took when falling in love with someone. It was like handing someone a gun pointed at your heart, believing they wouldn’t pull the trigger. It required trust, and I learned that almost no one deserved that much trust.
"You know, I wonder every day if there’s anything I can do to make you forgive me," he said. I knew it wouldn’t do me any good to let him stir up our past.
"You need to rest."
"I don’t want to lie in my bed alone, knowing you’re just a wall away. So close, yet so far."
"There’s not much I can do about that, except help you get to your bed." I tried to lighten the situation. "Come on! Lean on me." I helped him up, putting his arm around my shoulder, smelling his familiar scent. He was a bit unsteady. I tried to keep him in a straight line until we reached his door. "Where are your keys?"
"Wait..." He searched his front jeans pockets, then the back ones, but didn’t find them.
"You didn’t lose your keys, did you?"
"Well, I... Maybe I left them in the car."
"Or they could have fallen out somewhere else. Unbelievable." I sighed. "You were driving like this?"
"Please don’t scold me." Hearing him say that brought back a hundred memories.
"What are we going to do?"
"I’ll go down to get them."
"You can barely stand. I’m surprised you made it up here. Give me the car keys; I’ll go."
"You don’t have to."
"Would you rather sleep on my couch?"
"Would you mind?"
"I wasn’t serious. But you know what? It’s late, and I have to work tomorrow. So I don’t mind. Come on."
I led him back to my apartment and helped him sit on the couch.
"I’ll get a blanket. Be right back."
When I returned, he was already dozing off. His eyes opened as I debated whether to approach and cover him.
"Here." I handed him the blanket. "You should take off your shoes." He nodded, sitting up.
"Thanks. Good night, El." Whenever I heard him call me that, my chest tightened.
"Good night." I turned, but he grabbed my hand, making me stop.