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With the warm porcelain between her palms and Ethan’s knees resting on either side of hers, his torso framed in faded red, she felt exactly that. Comforted.
Indy wanted to move in and never leave.
She dipped her chin, retreating behind her hair, her elbows resting on the Formica. “I couldn’t sleep. Lori keeps saying I’m almost there, but I’m not even sure I know wherethereis. Poor Sash had to calm me down at ass o’clock this morning.”
Ethan dug into his biscuits and gravy with verve. “That explains your messages.”
She nodded. Before her was a full stack of thick, fluffy, no-nonsense, comforting pancakes. Indy snorted. They were exactly like Ethan.
They were also the most delicious pancakes she’d ever had.
Fate was officially fucking with her.
“Sasha’s a good friend,” Ethan said, setting his fork on his napkin.
Indy nodded, her mouth full. She was only halfway through, but she was stuffed. “The best,” she said once she’d taken a sip of her water. “She’s basically family now.”
Ethan reached across to cradle her hand in his, the rough pad of his thumb now tracing the inside of her wrist, back and forth, a slow beat she matched her breathing to.
“Summer used to drag me here when I was studying. As poor students, it was the only luxury we could afford, but it was exactly what I needed. Truth is, I missed her, but she had a whole life separate from me— you don’t know how much that means when you’ve grown up in each other’s pockets the way we did— and I didn’t want to interrupt that. It wasn’t until she forced me away from my books and told me she missed me too that I realized I’d been standing in my own way.”
“She said you’re useless at being selfish.”
He laughed. “I’m working on it.”
Indy got lost in the swish of Ethan’s thumb. In contrast to her bony wrist, his hands looked huge, with strong fingers and visible veins. She could imagine them gripping earth and stone, but every time he touched her gently like this, she momentarily lost the ability to speak.
“What do you do if you have a bad day and Sasha isn’t around?”
Indy shrugged. Usually, she crawled under a blanket and waited for her roommate to come home or distracted herself with something all-consuming. Attempting to beat her top scores on MarioKart was her go-to diversion. “Keep to myself. I’m not good company anyway.”
“Come to me next time. Voice message, text, musical gram, anything.”
“I’m not going to do that—”
“Indy, promise me. Anytime at all. You need someone to talk to, you come to me.”
His stare was intense, but the way he surrounded her, hand still enveloping hers, his head dipped down to hold her gaze, was comforting. “Text me anytime. I always want to hear from you. I mean it. Any time, day or night. Promise me.”
“Sure.”
“Indy,” he practically growled, “I mean it.”
He couldn’t be serious. Who would want to put up with her two-a.m. ramblings when she was spiraling?
Ethan squeezed her hand. “Promise me.”
She smiled into her coffee. It was impossible to fight how protected she felt. “I promise.”
When she had arrived, she’d been vulnerable, frayed and fried, and now… she swallowed the lump in her throat. He’d seen her wild edges and soothed them. He hadn’t shied away, and god, he was still studying her like she was worth looking at. Like she was someone he wanted.
Her favorite dimple reappeared. “Ah, I know that look.” He lifted his hand. “You should write it down.”
The loss of his touch ached across her fingertips, but he was right. Indy grabbed her phone and sank into the stream of consciousness that was crowding her mind, pushing to be released. Under the table, Ethan’s foot found hers, and she pressed back once in thanks.
It was the lightbulb she’d needed. All those weeks ago, rifling through the box in her closet, wondering why. Why hadn’t her previous relationships made her feel anything? What made it so easy to know that Sasha mattered to her, that Ethan mattered, over anyone else?
In the last twelve hours, they’d both been there for her. They both cared. It wasn’t just that Indy had been vulnerable; it was that she felt safe. Known.
