Hmm.I would’ve pegged him as more of aWoodworker’s Guide to Woodsort of reader.
Eventually, he comes back, but doesn’t offer me so much as a glance as he brushes past and into the kitchen to open the fridge.“Are you hungry?”he asks.
If the rain wasn’t so loud, he’d hear my stomach answer before me.But I’m not here to raid his kitchen.“You don’t need to feed me.”
His head hangs as he sighs.“Answer the question, Chloe.”
Fine.“I’m starving.”I’ve been so busy, I haven’t had a chance to eat dinner, and my lunch was a handful of chips and half a turkey sandwich shoveled in between customers.
“Why didn’t you want to go home?”he asks, tugging the pantry door open to stare at the sparse contents neatly packed on a single shelf.
I reach past him to snag one of the three boxes of Lucky Charms.I haven’t had these in years.That day at the grocery store, I would’ve grabbed a box of my own if I hadn’t been making fun of him for buying them.
Ethan grabs down a single bowl, setting it on the counter so I can fill it up with marshmallowy goodness.“You want some?”I ask.
“No, thanks.”
His loss.
“Chloe?”
I glance up to find him staring at me.
“Why didn’t you want to go home?”he repeats.
Part of me doesn’t want to answer.You cover for those you love, never wanting the world to see how badly they treat you because the world doesn’t love them the way you do, and the world won’t forgive them like you will.
But Ethan has already seen my dad at his worst, so I tell him the truth.“Rick is drunk.”
His brows pull together, his eyes as stormy as the sea outside.After a moment, he asks, “Does he hurt you?”
I pick up a tiny dehydrated heart and pop it into my mouth.“Not in the way you mean.He just lets me down.”Over and over and over again.
At least he’s consistent in that.
“Why did you let him stay with you then?”
I lift a shoulder.“He’s my dad.”
Ethan shakes his head once.“That shouldn’t give him a free pass into your life.”
“I know that.It’s just… his life is a mess right now.”Between losing out on that job he mentioned, his cellphone being cut off, and his vices, he’s not in a good place.What kind of daughter would I be if I didn’t help him out?In the grand scheme of things, letting him sleep in my spare room is a pretty small sacrifice.
Ethan blows out a breath.“He might have a messy life, Chloe, but it’s not on you to fix it.He’s a grown man.It’s okay to say no.”
Maybe for him.
“No” was probably Ethan Davis’s first word.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
ETHAN
This storm is getting intense,and I’m not just talking about the howling winds and the heavy rains battering the roof.I’m talking about the turbulence building in my chest as my beautiful neighbor sits against the living room wall, wearing my clothes and shivering slightly.
“Sorry,” I say, nudging some canvas across the base of the balcony doors to block the wind from coming in.“It’s colder than a polar bear’s ballsack in here.”
She laughs.Thank God—a real smile.The conversation we just had about her dad had gotten a little heavy.
