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He doesn't move at first, doesn't speak. Instead, Ethan stands there with an intensity that seems to fill the room, to wrap around me in a way that's both terrifying and exhilarating. I can see the gears turning behind those eyes, the careful weighing of my request.
I know how it must look—how vulnerable I must seem. A woman, alone and scared, asking a man she barely knows to stay the night. It goes against every rule of caution I've set for myself since Brandon. But right now, with Ethan's presence filling upthe space like a tangible force, caution is a language I refuse to speak.
The silence stretches on. I stand rooted to the spot by my own plea, by the realization that I've laid bare a need I didn't fully understand until this moment.
Finally, he breaks the silence with words that come out measured and low.
“Kristine...” Ethan starts, his voice threading through my name like it's something precious he's afraid to break. “Are you sure? Because if I stay...”
He doesn't finish the sentence, but he doesn't have to. The implication hangs in the air—palpable and charged with possibility. A shiver runs through me—not from fear but from something else entirely.
“Yes,” I cut in before doubt can poison my resolve. “I'm sure.”
Ethan nods slowly as if he's made some internal decision that wasn't easy for him either. He steps back into my space and closes the door he had been seconds away from exiting.
“I'll stay for a bit then, but I can’t stay the night,” he says simply, and those three words unleash a torrent of relief so fierce it nearly buckles my knees.
I watch him move through my apartment again—this time not as a protector checking for threats but as a guest settling into an unfamiliar space. There's an odd sense of intimacy watching him roll up his sleeves or glance around the room—a peek into how he might inhabit his own world when no one else is watching.
I should probably offer him something—water or an extra blanket—some gesture of hospitality to bridge this gap between stranger and savior. But instead, we embrace an understanding that transcends such formalities. An understanding that tonight is about more than social niceties.
As Ethan settles onto my couch with an ease that belies the tension we're both feeling, I realize how much this means—how muchhemeans already. In this city full of people, he's become my island in a stormy sea, the one thing standing between me and the chaos waiting just outside my door.
I'm not naive enough to think this changes anything about my complicated life or the battles yet to come. But for tonight, with Ethan Callahan choosing to stay by my side, I feel something like hope stirring within. A dangerous thing for a heart as battered as mine.
In a fearless movement, I stand on my tiptoes, seeking to get closer to him and look up at him, feeling the tension floating between us in the air.
Ethan watches me, waiting for me to make my move. He knows as well as I do what I desire. Probably because he desires the same thing.
My head moves forward a little, tilts, and then I wait. If he wants this, will he take the last step and bridge the distance between us?
For a moment nothing happens, but then Ethan comes closer. The soft but firm touch of his mouth finds mine, and a sigh leaves my mouth.
I begin to kiss him, not knowing how we got to this moment but also hoping he won’t stop.
Ethan's hands wrap around my waist. Slowly, almost as if he intends to prolong the sensations between us as much as possible, he squeezes and holds me against his body, causing an unexpected moan of surprise to leave my lips.
He pulls away for a moment, his forehead resting against mine. “Tell me if you wish me to stop.”
“Please don't stop.”
His lips find mine again and he nimbly lifts me up as he pulls me tight against his body.
And, as my legs wrap around his hips, I discover that this is exactly what I want,what I need.
It’s been too long since the last time I felt like this, tempted by a man to the point of wanting to give myself away for even one night. To forget everything, my name, my divorce, and my ex's threats.
I want to lose myself in someone else. In him.
CHAPTER THREE
ETHAN
My hands glidewith ease over Kristine's Aphrodite-like figure.
“Ethan...” whispers Kristine against my mouth, just before I drop her onto the bed.
I never thought the night would end this way, but here we are, with her sprawled out on the bed for me as, for the first time in a long time, I crave undressing a woman with all that I am.
