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I shake my head. "I got so jealous of him. He had all of Mom and Dad's attention. Since I was fourteen. They tried to keep things even, they tried to keep up the family events, they tried to include me in all of Asher's piano stuff, but he always ended up with more attention. He always needed something— a ride to his piano lessons, time for his recitals, someone to calm him down when he worked himself into a tizzy. I knew he was troubled and that I shouldn't have been jealous, but I was. I was jealous of his abilities too. I never could get the hang of piano. I was never as good at anything as he was at playing the piano."
He runs his fingers through my hair.
"I hated him as much as I loved him. He must have known. He didn't trust me… that's why he didn't tell me."
"Everybody hates their siblings sometimes. Fuck, I hate Mal all the time." Ethan intertwines his fingers with mine. "I know it hurts. I know there's nothing I can say to make it hurt less. But it wasn't your fault that Asher killed himself. You don't have to throw yourself on his funeral pyre. You deserve to be happy again. You deserve to have fun."
The words are convincing on his lips. I want to believe it. God how I want to believe it.
"It's gonna be okay, honey. I know it doesn't feel like that now, but one day it's gonna hurt less."
"How do you know?"
"I know every inch of you. You're strong enough to survive anything." He presses his lips to my forehead and he wraps his arms around me.
We sit there in that shower, water pounding against our heads and shoulders. He holds me until I haven't got a single tear left.
With Ethan's arms around me, I really do feel like I'm strong enough.
I really do believe it will hurt less tomorrow.
Chapter 21
Violet
I barely have the energy to stand, much less finish washing up. Ethan keeps his arms around my waist. His touch is sweet and affectionate as he shampoos and conditions my hair, runs soap over every inch of my body, and rinses
me off.
This, Ethan holding me with all the affection in the world, is everything I wanted.
No, it's still everything I want.
I try to push my thoughts out of my mind. I'm too tired to think. I want to feel.
Ethan wraps a towel around my chest, finishes stripping to nothing, and leads me to the bed. He nestles into the spot behind me, his hard body warm against mine.
His arm goes to my waist. He pulls me closer. My towel is in the way of our torsos connecting, but I can feel his hands, his chest, his legs, his breath on my neck, his lips brushing my ears.
I can feel his heartbeat.
It's steady.
His breath too.
My heart is in overdrive. I take a long, slow breath, hold it for as long as I can, exhale as slowly as I can. He's calm, at peace, like he's exactly where he belongs.
Something stirs in my chest. It's not lust. It's not fun. It's not even close to platonic.
I remind myself about our arrangement—one week of fun, then we both walk. I can't get mixed up. I can't fall for Ethan. He's here with me now, yeah, but he's not going to stick around when I'm back in school. He's not going to rearrange his life for me.
He's going to do what he did last time. He's going to throw me away as soon as I'm inconvenient.
Damn, I can't do this. I can't fall in love with Ethan. I can't hand him my heart.
This needs to stay fun.
I take another deep breath, but that does nothing to soothe me. It feels good being in his arms. It's everything I ever wanted. Everything I still want.
