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“Because I’m an idiot?” I frown.
He laughs and tucks my hair behind my ears before his gaze turns serious. “It could have gone pretty bad, lil’ mouse. You scared me. Who was that guy?”
I shake my head, trying to get out of this. I can’t tell him. How do I look at that beautiful face and confess the truth? He’ll be so pissed, and then he’ll stop tucking my hair behind my ear and giving me these gentle smiles.
So, I lie.
Like a coward, I mumble, “What guy?”
His expression turns dark, and for a moment, I think he’s pissed at me for trying to pull a fast one on him, but then he growls, “The one who was dragging you down the hallway. Ignoring you when you told him you weren’t interested. You yelled at him to let go, and he still wouldn’t take his fucking hands off you.”
I touch Ethan’s arm, the move instantly calming him. Sort of. His breaths are kind of punchy and his muscles are vibrating beneath my fingers.
“Thank you for keeping an eye on me.”
“I didn’t do a very good job.” He shakes his head, his expression pained. “I couldn’t find you… and what if I’d been too late?”
My expression crumples, and there are those tears again, burning the back of my throat. I swallow them down and manage to whisper, “But you weren’t.”
Touching his face, I rub my thumb across his cheek and give him a grateful smile.
Crap, I can’t hurt this man. I have to come clean and tell him about the initiation. My stomach clenches as my muddy brain tries to conjure the best words for this big confession.
“Ethan,” I rasp.
“Yeah?” His eyes soften with a look I’ve never seen before.
It steals all my words, and I’m frozen still as his lips curl at the corners and he flashes me one of his smiles.
I don’t want to lose that. I want him to keep staring at me this way for the rest of… forever.
With a soft snicker, he leans into me with a featherlight kiss that I want to deepen, but the door swings open before I can.
“Ah-huh! Busted!” Asher crows, then takes in the scene, his face bunching with confusion. “Wait. What did you guys do last night?”
Ethan stands with this dark look on his face, stalking toward the door. “Nothing happened, and fucking knock next time!” Shoving his friend out the door with one hard push, Ethan slams it shut and turns back to face me.
“What was that all about?” I try to laugh, but it comes out like a croaky snicker.
“Nothin’.” Ethan shakes his head, and I can tell he’s not being honest, but that’s okay because I can’t tell him the truth about the party, so let’s just call it even.
I lean back against the headboard and take in the rest of his room. It’s pretty simple with just a few hockey posters on the wall—action shots that no doubt inspire him. His dresser is in the corner, two of the drawers not closed properly as T-shirts and a pair of socks pop out over the side. There’s a framed family photo on the top, which I must check out when I can find the strength to make my concrete body stand and move around the room.
And then there’s his desk, covered with open books and obvious study notes along with his laptop.
“Studious,” I mumble.
“Huh?” He looks over his shoulder.
“Your desk. You obviously study.”
“Oh, yeah.” He shrugs. “What’s the point of being here if I don’t?”
“I thought you’d be all about hockey.”
I watch his face as he turns back to grin at me.
“Hockey is king, but study’s queen. I need it as my backup. And I like what I’m learning, so it’s not that bad. Sports science is interesting, you know?”
