Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
"But the boy cried."
I look at Ethan with arched eyebrows. Is that what he's worried about?
"That wasn't your fault," I tell him.
He doesn't look convinced. In fact, he looks like he's about to cry next. He's bothered by such a small thing? I find it both surprising and amusing.
I stand in front of him, place my hands on his shoulders and hold his gaze. "Hey. You asked the boy if you could pet his dog, right? And the boy agreed?"
He nods.
"Then you didn't do anything wrong."
"He cried, though," Ethan says.
Why does it bother him so much?
"Maybe because his dog liked you and he doesn't want it to like anyone else," I answer with a shrug as I stroke his hair. "He probably didn't want you to pet his dog but didn't have the courage say no. Or he changed his mind. At any rate, he said yes, so you didn't do anything wrong. You didn't hurt him or bully him."
Ethan looks away and says nothing.
Don't tell me he still doesn't believe me.
I cup his face so he's looking into my eyes again. "Children cry all the time. Even boys. He'll be fine. He has his dog and loving parents."
Still nothing.
"And you have me," I add playfully as I touch my forehead to his.
As soon as I do, I feel something sticky. I step back, frowning as I realize my mistake.
"The dog did lick my forehead," Ethan reminds me.
"Yeah." I wipe mine with the back of my hand. "I remember."
And now, the drool is on on me. Yuck.
Ethan chuckles. Well, at least he seems to be in a good mood again.
I look at my hand. "I think I'll go wash."
I head to the unisex restroom I saw earlier and step in. I'm about to close the door with my clean hand when Ethan stops me and slips inside. I give him a puzzled look.
"I need to wash my forehead, too," he says as he locks the door behind him.
Okay. I guess that's true. Couldn't he wait for his turn, though? Oh well. I just hope no one saw him come in after me. I know the Swiss mind their own business and are rather discreet, but I still don't want to cause a scandal in a foreign country.
I wash my hands and my forehead. Ethan does the same. I grab a paper towel to dry my hands with and then toss it into the trash can.
"I'll go out first."
I'm about to grab the doorknob, but Ethan grips my wrist. He pulls me towards him and seals my lips with his.
I was afraid this would happen.
I put my hands on his chest and push him away gently.
"Ethan, stop. We're in a public restroom."
"Would you rather I kiss you on the balcony?" Ethan asks with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Just like last time?"
I blush. "Not funny."
"Don't worry," he whispers in my ear. "I just want to kiss you. I've been wanting to since we got here."
He has?
Then he licks my ear. I gasp.
He grasps my chin and kisses me again. He tugs on my lower lip, then captures both lips and rubs his tongue against mine. His hand strokes my cheek.
Heat stirs in my mouth. It spreads to my chest, to my belly and between my legs. My knees quiver.
Shit. When is Ethan's kiss ever just a kiss?
I know this is wrong. We're in a public restroom and someone might knock any second. But as usual, Ethan's tongue and lips melt my common sense and my fears. I resist just another moment before clutching his chest and kissing him back fiercely. He pulls me closer. I want more of him.
I'm about to put my hand on Ethan's crotch when his phone rings. He pulls away with a groan and answers the call.
"What?"
I hear a man's voice on the other end of the line. One of his brothers? His father? They're the only ones I know who have his personal number.
Ethan frowns. Not a good sign.
"Okay. I'll go back to the hotel right now," he says. The expression of concern remains on his face after he hangs up.
"What's wrong?" I ask him.
"Everything," he answers before opening the door. "We have to go."
~
Ethan doesn't give any further details about the call as we walk to the car, or during the ride back to the hotel. I don't ask because he looks troubled enough. I haven't seen him this troubled in a while.
When we get to the hotel, I follow him straight to our floor. Ryker is waiting in the hallway. They disappear inside his room. I wait outside and pace the floor.
I know I look like someone in a hospital corridor, restlessly waiting for an update on a surgery. I should probably go to my own room. Whatever Ethan is dealing with, I don't think I'll be able to help him. Still, I can't help but worry. I want to make sure he's alright.