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I’m grateful that we had so many wonderful days together but I still miss her. She died a year and a half ago. She was all that I had. It was always just her and me against the world. She was retired, living off a small pension. I didn’t even have the money to bury her. Ethan stepped up for me, he took care of it all.
Ethan has been amazing to me. When my grandmother passed I had to sell off her house to sett
le her bills. There was nothing left, and I was already scraping by, just keeping my neck above water during my freshman year of college. Not only did Ethan cover my grandmother’s services and her burial, he set me up with a job in his father’s flagship store. Thanks to the job I earn just enough wages now to cover my apartment and other living expenses. Thanks to him I don’t have to worry about being homeless or starving to death while I try to finish college.
So I owe Ethan, big time.
He’s a great friend, and he’s never once asked me to repay him. But in the past few months Ethan has changed a lot.
First, it was the interest in fighting. I thought it would be a phase, perhaps something he would try, decide it wasn’t for him and move on. But he didn’t. If anything, he’s become more and more engrossed with it. Some might say he’s obsessed.
I’ve watched him transform from a lean caterpillar to a butterfly on steroids. Not only has his body grown huge, but his ego seems to have grown right along with it.
I’m not even sure I know who he is anymore.
Ethan has also grown extremely superstitious, hence me being his pretty lucky charm. I agreed to accompany him to his first fight. Being his best friend, even if I didn’t agree with what he was doing, I wanted to give him my support.
Ethan won that first fight so he insisted I attend his next. Then, when he won the next one, I was expected to be at his third. Somewhere along the way, he convinced me that I should dress a little more like the other girls that hang around the fighters. One thing lead to another and now I’m standing next to him in a pair of short shorts, ankle-breaking heels and a top that’s nothing more than a red bra.
So I can understand the leers and the rude whispers, I get it, I totally do. By the way I’m dressed and according to their caveman logic, I’m practically asking for it.
But I’m so done.
I’ve paid my dues, and this is Ethan’s title shot. I’ve supported him along the way, it should be enough. After this fight, I’m not going to play his lucky charm anymore. It’s silly anyway. He’s not winning because I’m here with him. He’s winning because he wants to win and because he’s training for it. This superstitious foolishness has gone on for too long. I need to stop enabling it. I’ll continue to support Ethan as a friend but from afar.
“You can go ahead and find your seat, Avery.” Ethan grins down at me, pulling me from my thoughts. “The officials are here. Want to give me a kiss for good luck?”
I blink up at Ethan. Did I hear him right? He wants me to give him a kiss? This is a first. I mean he’s not a bad looking guy, I’m sure any other girl would be happy to kiss him.
Just not this girl.
Even with his head shaved I can look at Ethan and admit that aesthetically he meets all the standards for being hot. He has high cheekbones, soft pink lips and gorgeous baby blue eyes. Honestly, I don’t know why I’ve never looked at him like he’s kissable. Our relationship is strictly platonic, well, at least it had been until now.
Maybe I’m reading too much into this...
But no, his face is coming down to me. Shit, he’s totally coming in for the kiss. I should probably do something.
I panic.
I turn my face and instead of giving Ethan a good luck kiss those soft lips of his brush across my cheek instead.
He pulls back and for a moment his eyes flash. He looks pissed. Then he looks away from me and that dazzling smile of his returns for the crowd.
“Go, Avery,” Ethan hisses.
Well, that leaves no doubt, I totally pissed him off.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize. “I was just…”
Ethan doesn’t let me finish, he quickly cuts me off. “Go,” he says loudly, loudly enough for the guys standing next to him to hear.
He turns away from me and for some reason it hurts.
Why, I wonder as I walk out of the room, do I feel like I’ve done something wrong?
Chapter Two
Chase
