Istretched beneath the covers, warm and relaxed. I smiled. I could move. Without pain. I searched my memories and realized I hadn’t taken a muscle relaxer since the night before.
The night before.
My eyes jolted open, and I turned my head slowly as it dawned on me that Ethan was still here. His breathing was even, and he was still wearing his clothes from yesterday. He lay atop the covers, face relaxed in sleep. He really was very handsome—the dark-brown hair with hints of red in certain lights. The sun-kissed skin. The scruff lining the angles of his jaw.
And last night had revealed a new side of him, new facets to his personality, as he’d called them. He’d trusted me, been vulnerable with me. And I didn’t know what to think or even where we went from here.
“You’re wondering how good I look naked, aren’t you?”
I shoved at his shoulder, annoyed that he’d pretended to be asleep, watching me while I watched him. “No. And I didn’t realize you were awake.”
I turned away and moved to a seated position. The muscles of my back and core still protested, but not like before. Thank goodness.
“Mm-hmm.”
I rolled my eyes as I turned to face him. “You’re welcome to leave anytime.”
What had I been thinking? Asking him to stay? Confessing the truth about my dad? And then my stomach plummeted as I remembered the things Ethan had shared—the horrors he’d experienced. Suddenly, my dad’s infidelity didn’t seem so atrocious. Forgivable almost, at least in comparison.
“What’s that look for?” Ethan asked, scrubbing a hand over his face before tilting his head side to side. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a crick in his neck. He’d basically spent the night sitting up.
“Nothing.” I shook away the cobwebs, sensing that a man like Ethan would hate pity. “I should probably eat something.”
“How’s your back?” He shifted so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed, then tugged on his boots. Why did it feel like such an intimate moment—even more so than sharing a bed with him?
“A lot better than it was. Thanks.”
“Good.” He stood and smoothed down the comforter. “Look—”
“Hey, um—” I said at the same time, then laughed nervously.
“You first,” he said.
“I wondered if you’d like to stay for breakfast.”
“I should probably get going.”
“Oh, right.” Why was I disappointed? We weren’t friends. We weren’t anything.
“But I’ll come by later to check on you. If you think you’re okay being alone.” His gaze was questioning.
I appreciated his concern. Even so, I reminded myself it was more out of a sense of obligation than anything else. He didn’t care about me. He’d cared about my father, and he was just being nice. So, I nodded.
“Maybe we could have dinner together instead,” he offered.
“I’d like that.” I headed for the bathroom, trusting he could let himself out.
He paused at the top of the stairs. “Wait…you’re not planning to take a shower, are you?”
“Of course.”
“I mean, I’d love to see that rose tattoo again, but not at the risk of a repeat of yesterday.”
I spun and narrowed my eyes at him. “It’s a peony and a dragonfly—”
“And a dandelion,” he added with a cocky smirk I wanted to slap off his face.
My entire body tensed. “You promised not to look.”
