Chapter 96
Emily's POV
Before I could respond, movement caught my attention from another direction. A group of girls—maybe six or seven of them—had materialized near the edge of the parking lot. They positioned themselves directly in Ethan's path with the kind of strategic precision that suggested this wasn't their first time doing this.
They were dressed in the uniform of athletic groupies. Tight athletic wear that showed off carefully maintained bodies. Hair and makeup done just enough to look effortless. Phones already out and angled for photos.
I watched as Ethan noticed them. His smile shifted into something more polite and distant.
The girls swarmed immediately, talking over each other, with one of them touching his arm while another angled her phone for a selfie.
"Jesus Christ," I muttered, more to myself than to Alex.
"He really is popular, isn't he?" Alex's tone was light and conversational.
I couldn't look away from the scene unfolding fifty yards in front of us. Ethan was handling it exactly the way I'd seen him handle these situations before. Polite but not encouraging. Smiling for photos but keeping physical distance where possible. Answering questions with practiced brevity.
But I could see the tension in his shoulders. The way his gaze kept drifting past the girls toward the parking lot. Like he was looking for an escape route.
"This is him after publicly announcing he has a girlfriend," I said, hearing the dry edge in my own voice. "Imagine what it would be like if he'd told everyone he was single."
Alex made a small sound that might have been agreement. His attention still fixed on the spectacle.
Connor had noticed what was happening and hung back with another teammate. Both of them clearly amused by Ethan's predicament but not intervening. One of the girls had moved closer. Her hand still on Ethan's arm. Her body angled in a way that suggested she either didn't know about the girlfriend or didn't care.
"So why don't you go claim your territory?" Alex asked, and there was something challenging in the question, like he was testing me.
I shot him a look. "Claim my territory? What am I, a dog marking a tree?"
But I was also surprised Alex was being this generous. "I thought you two didn't get along except in bed."
Alex shifted in his seat, affecting a mature, reasonable tone. "It was like that at first. But I figured out that's exhausting for you, isn't it? I should behave better. Make things easier for you."
I reached over without thinking and patted his head like he was a well-trained dog. "Good boy."
His whole body went rigid with shock. Like he couldn't quite process what had just happened. But then something shifted in his expression—surprise giving way to something almost pleased, almost satisfied, like he'd discovered he didn't entirely hate it.
"You're a woman watching other women touch her boyfriend and doing nothing about it." He went on, trying to keep his voice calm, but his throat was still a little tight. "Which suggests either you don't care, or you're afraid of what stepping into that situation would mean."
I opened my mouth to argue, to tell him he was wrong, that I trusted Ethan and didn't need to perform some ridiculous display of ownership just because a few girls wanted pictures. But the words stuck in my throat, because he wasn't entirely wrong. I did trust Ethan—that wasn't the issue.
The issue was that showing up and inserting myself into that scene meant actively stepping into someone else's life. Making myself a factor they had to account for. Becoming something they needed to protect or explain or deal with. A burden they hadn't asked for, even if they said they wanted it.
"I trust him," I said instead, keeping my voice level.
"I know you do." Alex shifted slightly, angling himself toward me in a way that made the small space of the car feel even smaller. "But this isn't about trust. It's about making your life easier by making his life easier. You show up, you make it clear who you are, and suddenly half his problems disappear because those girls know there's no point."
I frowned, considering that angle. "You think they'd actually back off?"
"Some of them would. The smart ones, at least." He paused, then added with characteristic bluntness, "And the ones who don't back off? Well, then Ethan has an easier time shutting them down because you're right there instead of being some abstract girlfriend they've never seen."
It was practical. Infuriatingly practical, actually, and exactly the kind of strategic thinking that made Alex both invaluable and occasionally exhausting to deal with. But he had a point. Every time Ethan mentioned me to people, I remained this vague figure they'd heard about but never encountered—which meant they could imagine me as anything from completely made-up to not a serious threat. Showing up changed that equation entirely.
"I hate that you're right," I admitted, still watching Ethan try to extricate himself from the increasingly aggressive attention. One of the girls had pulled out what looked like a sharpie, presumably for an autograph, while another was attempting to guide him toward better lighting for photos.
"You'll get used to it," Alex said, sounding entirely too satisfied with himself.
I glanced at him, catching the slight curve of his mouth, the way his eyes held that spark of amusement he got when he'd successfully maneuvered me into agreeing with him. "You planned this, didn't you? The timing, the route, suggesting we pick him up—this was all deliberate."
"I suggested picking him up because it made sense," Alex replied smoothly, not even attempting to deny the manipulation. "If you also happen to establish yourself publicly in the process, well, that's just efficient time management."
God, he was insufferable. And also completely right, which somehow made it worse.
I made a decision then, fueled partly by Alex's logic and partly by the sight of Ethan's increasingly uncomfortable body language as another girl touched his shoulder. "Okay. Fine. You're right. I need to make a dramatic entrance."
"We're calling it 'picking up your boyfriend from practice,'" Alex corrected, but he was definitely smiling now. "Everything else is just context."
I reached for the door handle, then paused, a better idea forming. "Actually, no. You're not coming with me."