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Connor studies Ethan’s face and recognition sparks in his eyes. “I know you. Waters, right? I haven’t seen you in a long time. What’s it been? Like ten years.”
Ethan shoves his hands into his jeans pockets, his body growing rigid. “Yeah,” Ethan replies after a long pause.
Do they know each other?
Connor’s gaze travels between Ethan and me. “You two together?”
I nod. “Ethan’s picking me up.”
Connor smirks. “I didn’t know you were down with that.” His words confuse me. “How much are you looking to cop?”
I narrow my eyes at Connor, confused by his unusual question until I realize he’s asking me if I want to buy drugs.
What the fuck?
“We’re not,” Ethan says before I can answer.
The dark-haired man adjusts the black duffel Connor brought back with him earlier over his shoulder and excuses himself. He slips out the door, and Ethan and I stand awkwardly in front of Connor.
Connor peeks up at the clock on the wall behind the counter. “You can leave early. I’ll close up tonight.”
I flash a closed-mouth smile at Connor and reach behind the counter for my purse. “Thanks. Have a good night.”
“You, too.” Connor stretches his hand out for Ethan to shake. “Waters, you know where I am. Come see me. Anytime.”
Ethan leads me outside with his hand on my back, his nervous energy shaking through me.
I live a few blocks from the record store. We make a left toward my apartment without speaking. Where do I begin? I have so many questions.
“Are you hungry?” Ethan asks, ending the silence between us.
“No, Connor ordered pizza. Are you?”
He shakes his head. “The only thing I’m hungry for is your pussy.”
I smile, but it quickly fades. “What was all that about, E? How do you know Connor? Why did he think you would want to buy drugs?”
He looks down at his feet, his gaze moving upward when a man in a Flyers T-shirt says to his friend, “I think that’s Ethan Waters.”
Ethan acknowledges them with a feigned smile and a nod. The boys don’t stop us. We keep moving down Market Street. Ethan has a strained expression on his face that gives me the chills, his disposition so cold and gloomy I can’t stop wondering what happened back at the store.
“Answer me, E.” My tone catches his attention. “How do you know Connor?”
“We were friends a long time ago.”
“Connor is a drug dealer.”
He shrugs. “I’m a hockey player.”
“Don’t do this. Please tell me the truth. You damn well know that I’m working at Old City Records on a case. Stop being so cryptic with me. I need answers.”
“That part of my life is in the past.” He grabs my hand when we cross the street at the stoplight. “Let’s leave it at that.”
“No,” I say loud enough to garner the attention of a couple passing us. “That’s not good enough. You owe me some answers.”
“Keep it down,” he growls, his voice deep and low.
He’s reverting to the asshole that returned years ago. I don’t like his alter ego.
Once we reach my building, he drags me into the dim hallway and up the three flights of stairs. Not until we reach my apartment does Ethan release his grip on my hand. I remove the keys from my purse and open the door for us. Within seconds of shutting it behind us, Ethan has me pinned against the wall with his big body.
“Will isn’t coming home tonight,” he says.
“I know. He texted me earlier.”
Ethan leaves a trail of hot breath along my skin as he fumbles with his zipper. “I want your pretty lips wrapped around me.”
“Why are you acting like this? Fucking answer me!” I yell so loud it’s as if something inside me snaps. “I’m so sick of this shit. You can’t go into that dark place. Years ago, you did the same thing and pushed me away until I hated your guts. Not every problem in your life can be solved with sex. Talk to me, Ethan.”
“Why?” He presses his palms to the wall on each side of my head. “So you can write a story about me? My life is not for sale. It’s not something I want on display for the entire world.”
My heart aches. “You don’t trust me?” I stare into his eyes to gauge his reaction. “I thought by now you would know that I can keep a secret. I would never use anything you tell me, personal or professional, to sell papers.”
He closes his eyes and sighs. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for being an asshole or sorry because you won’t tell me?”
He opens his eyes. They hold so much sadness that tears well up in my bottom lids.
“For being an asshole.”
“Please, E.”
He grazes my cheek with his thumb and catches a fallen tear. “I’m sorry, Mia. For everything. I didn’t want to leave you behind. But I didn’t have a choice. My dad forced me to go back to Boston.”
