Page 53 of Boss and Brat

Ethan’s voice cracked. “I’m trying, Carter.”

“I know you are.”

Ethan looked up at him then, eyes open and raw in a way that made Carter’s chest ache. “I don’t want you to give up on me.”

Carter swallowed hard. “I’m not giving up on you.”

He didn’t say the rest—that he couldn’t, that he didn’t know how, that somewhere along the way Ethan had become more than a responsibility, more than a kid he was helping. Ethan hadbecome someone Carter wanted. Someone he worried about. Someone he felt too much for.

And standing there in the kitchen, with Ethan looking at him like that, Carter knew he was in deeper than he’d ever intended.

“Come on,” Carter said, voice rougher than he meant. “Get some sleep. We’ll deal with the rest tomorrow.”

Ethan nodded, but he didn’t move right away. He just stood there, close enough that Carter could feel the warmth of him.

“Goodnight, Carter,” Ethan whispered.

Ethan walked down the hall and closed the bedroom door.

Carter let out a breath and sighed. He was in trouble. Real trouble. Because he cared about Ethan in a way he wasn’t supposed to. And he didn’t know how the hell he was supposed to stop.

Chapter Twenty

The sheets were too warm, too scratchy, too something. They clung to his legs like they had their own opinion about how he should lie there. Somewhere in the cabin, a floorboard creaked, the kind of soft settling sound that usually would have soothed him, but tonight it only made his pulse jump.

His mind wouldn’t shut up. It kept firing off images like someone flipping through channels too fast—Tomás’s smug grin, Officer Duarte’s flat stare, the flash of anger in Carter’s eyes, the quieter disappointment that hurt worse. Each one hit before he could brace for it.

He squeezed his eyes shut, but that only made everything louder. The fear underneath all of it—the old, familiar one—pressed up against his ribs. People left. People got tired. People decided he wasn’t worth the trouble. What if Carter woke up tomorrow and realized that too?

Ethan shifted onto his side. Then his back. Then his stomach. The sheets twisted tighter, trapping heat against his skin. His chest cinched, like someone had pulled a belt one notch too far. He tried to breathe around it, but the thoughts kept piling up,tripping over each other, refusing to give him even a second of peace.

Finally, he gave up.

Ethan slipped out of bed, padded down the hall, and stopped outside Carter’s door. The cabin held a profound stillness, so deep his own breath pounced off the walls. He hesitated, hand hovering over the wood.

Then he knocked—soft, barely there.

The door opened a second later. Carter stood there shirtless, hair messy, eyes heavy with sleep. He looked big, warm, and safe in a way that made Ethan’s throat close up.

“What’s wrong?” Carter asked, voice low.

“I can’t sleep,” Ethan said. “Can I… stay with you? Just for a little while?”

Carter sighed, but not in a mean way. More like he already knew he was going to say yes. “One hour. That’s it.”

Ethan nodded quickly and slipped inside.

Carter returned to bed, leaning back against the headboard. Ethan climbed in beside him, careful at first, keeping a little distance. But the second he felt Carter’s warmth, something in him loosened.

He rested his head on Carter’s shoulder. Carter didn’t tell him to move. Didn’t stiffen. Didn’t push him away. So, Ethan inched closer, slow enough that Carter could’ve stopped him if he wanted. He didn’t.

For a minute, they remained still in the dimly lit room, the only sound Carter’s even breaths filling the silence.

Ethan spoke. “Did you know Officer Duarte is married to Andrew from the Blue Star?”

“You said Andrew was married to a man. No, I didn’t know they were married.”

Ethan blinked. “Are you alright with that?”