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One look at his compassionate smile told me I wanted him to be that kind of friend. Cameron was dealing with his own shit—he didn’t need my drama further complicating his life right now.
When I hesitated, Ethan took a step toward me. “Look, I really don’t mean to pry. But even though you said you needed to work it out yourself, I’m sensing maybe you could use someone to talk to. So no pressure, but I’ve got nowhere to be if you want to chat.”
His words were exactly what I needed to hear; I could feel the tension drain out of me. Flashing him a smile, I said, “Hang your coat in the front closet. I’ll make some tea.”
***
I told Ethan all the sordid details of how my site started, when my parents found out about it, and why they’d cut me off before launching into the details he needed about Henry and me. I didn’t explicitly say Henry was my Daddy, but he had to suspect it if he didn’t outright know. I hadn’t hidden my boy status, even if Henry had been making me question the absoluteness of that.
I also didn’t go into much detail about the content of my cam site, just that I did solo work exclusively and always had. My tips were good enough for me without partnering up, though I’d had many requests from my fans. My solo videos and live streams alone made more money than I needed.
Though now that I thought about it, Ethan might’ve already known that I only did solo camming. I was one of the most popular camboys on the app he owned and ran, after all. Did the CEO of Daddy’s Boy get debriefs like that?
Finally, I told Ethan about how I’d freaked out at the thought of commitment when Henry was just MrFox43 and how I’d nearly lost it in the elevator at Lakeside. How I could see myself falling for Henry, but I was terrified of doing so, and I couldn’t seem to get past that. I even shared a bit of my history with Chad, my high school boyfriend who didn’t seem to care about me or my feelings, and a bit about my childhood by way of an explanation.
At the end of my spiel, we were facing each other on the couch, both of us leaning sideways against the back. I’d curled both legs up in front of me, and Ethan had one knee tucked up on the cushion in front of him. He took the last sip of his tea—the final dregs of my own tea had long since gone cold—and set his mug down on a coaster atop my wooden coffee table before turning back to me. “Sounds like you’ve been through a lot, Tris.”
I nodded, my eyes feeling heavy from the bouts of crying I’d had as I’d shared my story. I guessed crying was my thing now. “Yeah.”
Ethan reached for my hand and squeezed it. “I’m so sorry you went through all that. I’m sure you already know this, but you didn’t deserve any of that. No one—especially a parent—should treat anyone that way.”
I sniffed. “I know.”
Ethan nodded, gazing over my shoulder, eyes unfocused. “Back to what you said earlier . . .” His eyes flicked to mine. “Why does the thought of Henry caring about you scare you? Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”
The corners of my mouth tipped down. “Yes, on some level. But on another, deeper level, a level I can’t seem to reach, I just feel like a little kid who isn’t worthy of love. If my parents could treat me like they did—and it wasn’t just when they cut me off but a lifetime of withholding love—how could anyone love me? And even if they could, what about me would make them want to stay?”
“Oh, Tris,” Ethan said, his voice cracking. “Can I give you a hug?”
I nodded, fighting tears yet again as he pulled me into him. The hug was a little awkward, but I relished the contact. I needed it. Because the last twenty-four hours had really sucked.
When we pulled back, Ethan reached into his pants pocket for his phone. “If you’re open to it, Tris, I have the number of a really good therapist. She’s amazing at what she does, and she’s kink-friendly, too. Would you be open to calling her? I think she could help.”
I nodded, and the whoosh of a sent text sounded on Ethan’s phone a few seconds later. My own phone, which was sitting face up on the coffee table after I’d rescued it from the couch cushion, lit up with a new text message.
“Now you have her contact info. She’s really great; I think you’d like her. Maybe she can help you work through some things so you don’t keep bumping into this with Henry, if you choose to continue your relationship.”
I sighed. “I want that,” I admitted, my voice small and quiet. “If he does, of course. But I’m also scared to talk to him because what if he really does want Carl instead of me?” I cocked my head to one side. “That sounds silly when I say it out loud, given everything he told me, but why would he choose Carl over me if that isn’t true?”
Ethan frowned but looked me right in the eye. “You’ll have to talk to him about that.”
I nodded. “I know, I know.” Then I smiled. “Thank you so much for staying to chat, Ethan. This really helped. Guess I did need to talk it out.”
He patted my knee then pushed to standing. I followed suit, watching as he crossed the moderately sized room to the front closet to collect his jacket. The style was much different than mine, and the color was more brown than black, so I could easily see he’d picked up the correct one.
Shrugging it on, he smiled back. “I’m glad I could help. But I do need to get going—I have a dinner meeting I can’t miss.”
I nodded, walking him to the door and opening it. “I hope your business deal works out. And perhaps the other thing, too,” I added, smirking.
Cutely, Ethan blushed again, just a little, before stepping out into the hallway. “Brat.”
I grinned. “Always. And don’t forget it.”
Chapter twenty-six
Henry
Mid-December