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As the sunlight streamed onto her beautiful body, I threw myself between her and the world and tossed a blanket over her. “What’s wrong with you?”
She angrily wrapped it around her body. “You knew Vance was cheating on me.”
My shoulders dropped, finally understanding the attitude. “I didn’t know. Not for sure.”
“But you had your suspicions?”
“Well, yeah.”
Hurt laced her oceanic eyes. “And you didn’t tell me?!”
“Would you have listened?!” Anger stirred within. “He’s been treating you like shit for years, and you just accept it, like that’s all you deserve.”
The sadness in her eyes cut through my soul. “So, does my train wreck of a life please you?”
“No.” I shook my head. “That’s not—”
“That’s exactly what it is!” She shoved my chest. “Perfect little Daisy finally fucked up. Is that why you’ve stopped going out on weekends? To watch my face fall every time Vance made excuses not to see me? To laugh at how pathetic I was for not knowing he was fucking someone else?!”
“No!”
Tears glistened in her eyes. “Then why wouldn’t you tell me?!”
“Because I wasn’t going to be the one to break your heart, Daisy!” I stepped closer until I could feel the heat radiating off her bare shoulders. “But I sure as fuck wanted to be around when he did.”
“Why?”
I stared down at her gorgeous face. “You know why.”
Her head recoiled, her mouth unusually lost for words.
“You should get dressed,” I continued, pulling my eyes from hers as I fought the urge to tear away the flimsy barrier between us and take her to bed.
Her gaze burned into my profile. “Ethan…”
With a taut jaw, I backed away, not wanting to screw everything up. “I’m going out,” I said, already halfway down the hall.
“But we have to go shopping.”
I picked up my helmet and keys. “Later. I have a lunch date.” As the door closed behind me, I winced at my choice of words. It wasn’t a date. It was a meeting. I should’ve been clearer with Daisy, but this was the game we played, and until I knew how she truly felt about me, I was going to keep playing.
8
DAISY
Once I’d finished packing up the rest of Susan’s closet, I stared at the pile of dresses in theFor Mepile and groaned. Where was I going to wear them? I didn’t go to fancy events, nor did I want to. Perhaps I’d sell them and buy cookbooks. I liked cookbooks. I understood cookbooks. The ingredients, the measurements, the techniques. If I followed the rules, I couldn’t fail.
I’d been doing this in every aspect of my life since my parents died. With cooking. With college.With Vance.There were no surprises when you followed the rules—good or bad.
It wasn’t until Vance asked me to move in with him that I rebelled against the natural progression of our relationship. He was furious at my decision to stay in my family home and was convinced Ethan was the reason. Hell, maybe he was right about that too.
Although Ethan and I avoided each other like the plague, I took comfort in his proximity. Knowing he was in his bedroom, painting, while I baked in the kitchen eased the pain in my heart, and that night, two weeks ago, he made me feel whole again.
Ethan was the only rule I was willing to break—if only he felt the same way.
* * *
“Hey, you,” my brother greeted on his return home while I scrubbed the kitchen cabinets. I’d been attacking them all afternoon while Ethan was off on hisdate.
