Page 59 of Boss and Brat

Carter pretended to adjust his gloves. That warmth in his chest flared again, too bright, too close. He didn’t know how to stop it. Didn’t know if he even could.

Ethan nudged him lightly with his shoulder. “Hey… thanks for today.”

Carter swallowed. “Yeah. Anytime.”

Ethan smiled—small, real—and Carter felt himself fall a little deeper into trouble.

Carter stayed quiet for a minute, letting the breeze off the lake cool the heat still buzzing in his chest. Ethan had gone still beside him, staring at the water like it held all the answers he’d never gotten.

Carter asked, “If you were that good… why didn’t you go back to racing? After all that?”

“Because my father threatened me.”

“Threatened you how?”

“He told me if I ever raced again, he wouldn’t pay for college or any of my mistakes. Not one.” Ethan’s voice was flat, but his hands were shaking a little. “And my father doesn’t make idle threats. He does what he says.”

Carter felt something cold settle under his ribs. He’d known Ethan’s father was strict, but this… this was something else.

“So I stopped,” Ethan said. “That’s why Duarte hates me.”

Carter frowned. “What does Duarte have to do with racing?”

Ethan swallowed hard. “It’s the reason I don’t drink.”

“Ethan…”

“I was drunk out of my mind that night,” Ethan said, voice cracking around the edges. “When I stole their bikes. When I trashed them. I set them on fire.”

Carter’s heart dropped. Not because of what Ethan had done—but because of the shame in his voice. The way he couldn’t look up.

“When I went home,” Ethan continued, “my father saw how drunk I was. So it wasn’t a surprise when Duarte came to arrest me the next morning.”

Something hot and fierce rose in Carter—anger, protectiveness, something he didn’t want to name. Ethan wasn’t a criminal. He was a kid who’d been cornered, bullied, and then punished for breaking under it.

Ethan blinked fast, trying to keep the tears from falling. “I know it was stupid. I know I messed up. I just—”

That was it. Carter couldn’t sit there and watch him unravel. He reached out and pulled Ethan into his arms. Ethan stiffened for half a second, as if he weren’t sure he was allowed to be held, then melted against him, forehead pressing into Carter’s shoulder. Carter wrapped both arms around him, one hand sliding up to the back of Ethan’s neck, thumb brushing lightly against warm skin.

He hated seeing Ethan tear up. Hated that the kid had been carrying all this alone. Hated that no one had ever stepped in before now.

“Are you okay?” Carter murmured, voice low. “You’re here. That’s what matters.”

Ethan’s fingers curled into Carter’s shirt like he needed something solid to hold onto.

Carter closed his eyes for a moment, letting the weight of Ethan against him settle deep. Too deep. Dangerous deep. He knew he shouldn’t hold him like this—not this long, not this close—but he couldn’t make himself let go.

Not when Ethan wasn’t pretending to be fine. Not when Ethan trusted him enough to fall apart. And not when Carter’s own chest ached like he’d been waiting for this moment without realizing it.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ethan pulled back first. Not because he wanted to. Because he was afraid if he stayed in Carter’s arms any longer, he’d say something stupid. Or worse, Carter would feel how hard Ethan’s heart was pounding.

He wiped his eyes quickly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…. fall apart on you.”

Carter shook his head immediately. “Don’t apologize.”

The words were firm, almost sharp, like Carter hated the idea of Ethan being sorry for needing comfort. That alone made Ethan’s throat tighten again.