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I slowed my pace when I was an arm's length away, suddenly feeling like an idiot for coming over here at all. It wasn’t like I was his date—I was his anger management coach, for goodness's sake, and he was showing no signs of having an episode where he’d need my guidance. And the mere fact of who I was to him might be a touchy subject for his other friends—sure, Asher and Weston had accepted me with open arms last week at a casual lunch, but who knew about the other two?
God, why had I come over here at all? Why had I left the safety and comfort of the girls? Why—
“Alex?” Ethan said, cocking a brow at me as he turned away from the group to face me, a drink in one hand and the other casually resting in his pocket. “What are you doing standing over there?” He motioned for me to come over, the ease with which he did untangling some of the nerves in my stomach.
I sighed, resisting the urge to roll my eyes at myself as I stepped into the circle he and his friends had formed.
And Jesus, it was an intense circle, regardless of what the girls had said. I was standing among five devastatingly gorgeous billionaires, all of whom were now looking at me with studying, appraising gazes.
“Cross, Gareth,” Ethan said, motioning to me. “This is Alexandra,” he continued. “My appointed life coach and savior of my reputation.” He pointed out Crossland and Gareth, and I did this weird ass dip thing like I was curtseying to royalty.
Smooth.
“I wouldn’t go as far to say, savior,” I finally said.
“I don’t know about that,” Asher said, indicating Ethan with his drink. “It’s been a whole two weeks with no videos taking the media by storm. I’d say you’re on the right track.”
Ethan pursed his lips and flipped Asher off, who immediately laughed before eying me. “Does he lose points for that?” he asked.
“At least ten,” I said, which made him laugh again, Weston and Crossland chiming in. Gareth gave a twitch of his lips before taking another sip of his drink, and I took that as a win.
“We were wondering when we’d get to meet you,” Crossland said, elbowing Gareth in the ribs.
I raised my brows at the casual way Crossland interacted with a man that looked like he could crush his windpipe with one well-placed move. Not that Crossland wasn’t big—he was, they all were—but Gareth had some kind of energy radiating off of him that made him appear bigger. Scary alpha indeed. I instinctively stepped closer to Ethan, our arms brushing as I managed to not break away from Gareth’s appraising stare.
“It is good to finally meet you,” Gareth said, his voice as deep as I was expecting. “Ethan hasn’t been able to stop talking about you.”
Ethan cleared his throat, but didn’t deny it.
A flush worked its way across my cheeks. “I’m guessing he’s vented to you about the barrage of breathing techniques I’ve been torturing him with,” I teased.
“Among other things,” Ethan said, taking another sip of his drink.
“So, we know you can tame the beast,” Crossland joked, handing off his empty drink to a server who passed by and asked if we needed anything. “But can you dance?” He offered his hand, cocking a brow at Ethan. “Is that all right?”
“I’m not her keeper,” Ethan answered before I could. “If she wants to get her feet stepped on, she’s more than welcome to make that choice for herself.”
I grinned, eager to get to know the people who were closest to Ethan as much as possible. I slipped my hand in Crossland’s and let him lead me onto the dancefloor.
“That was easy,” he said, eyes behind me, no doubt on Ethan.
“Were you expecting him to have an episode?” I asked, falling into a slow waltz with Crossland.
He kept one hand in mine, the other lightly on my hip, so light he barely touched me, and he kept a good eight inches between us. It was cute as hell, the way he was being respectful.
“Maybe,” Crossland said, drawing his gaze down to mine. His smile was infectious, confident, and this side of reckless.
“Why does it look like you want that?”
He moved us around in a slow circle. “I don’t want that,” he said. “But if an ‘episode’—as you call it—is going to happen, it’s much better to happen around us. We actually care about him and will do our best to help.”
I furrowed my brow. “Are you implying that I don’t care about him?”
He smirked, dipping me slightly. “Why? Does it bother you if I am?”
I scanned the features of his face, then laughed as he drew me upright. “Omigod,” I said. “You’re fishing for details.”
“Damn it,” he said. “How could you tell?” he teased.
