Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“Your nightmare is starting to make a lot more sense.”
“I can’t believe I dumped all that on you. It’s almost three in the fucking morning. I need to let you go so you can get back to sleep.”
“Who says I sleep?” he asked, his voice practically a growl, making me wish I could be in bed with him. “I’m in bed, but I was just working on a project for a client, so really, you’re only interrupting my workaholic tendencies.”
“Well, then I guess I don’t feel so bad about interrupting that. What are you working on?”
He started talking to me about the issues he was having with one of his major projects, and the conversation shifted to talking about our stressors at work. It was as effortless talking to him as when we were sitting right next to each other, and it eased the tension I’d been feeling, the tension of all that bullshit the nightmare had brought back up in me.
“Jesus Christ, it’s almost four in the morning,” I said when I finally checked the clock on my phone.
“Am I boring you to sleep?” he asked.
I laughed. “Not at all. I mean, I do need to get some rest, but I think I’m going to have an easier time sleeping after talking to you.”
“Good. But if you do have any trouble getting to sleep, you can always call back.”
He couldn’t have known how much his words meant to me. Or how nice it was to see that, even though he could be playful and teasing and fun, he could also be sincere and thoughtful.
He was always saying how amazing he was, but I wondered if he really knew just how true that was. Hell, clearly I was still figuring it out for myself.
“Thank you, Ethan.”
“You don’t have anything to thank me for. Hell, I’m only listening so I can dump all my fucked-up shit on you when the opportunity comes up.”
I chuckled. “Well, I definitely owe you one.”
“You don’t owe me anything, but if you insist, I’ll accept payment in the form of sexual favors. Although considering what I have to offer, I figure you’re the one who should be paying me.”
I laughed so loud I figured Ethan took great pride in knowing he’d amused me. “Oh, Ethan Fucking Harris. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”
“Well, you have until this weekend to figure that out.”
We said our good-byes, and as I hung up, I felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from me. Ethan had taken me from feeling as shitty as I could have felt about that nightmare to feeling excited about the weekend. I took a relaxed breath as I lay in bed, positioning myself on my side to get ready to drift off again.
What was I going to do with Ethan Fucking Harris?
19
Ethan
I didn’t sleep after I got off the phone with Sean. I didn’t know what it was, but I was restless. My eyes mostly refused to close and when they did, images of my parents, and Sean and his brother, who was faceless to me, filled my head.
I only let myself slip down that rabbit hole a couple of times before I decided sleep was overrated for the night and ended up exercising instead. It did its job in waking me up so I would look presentable when I went to work. If anyone said anything, which they likely wouldn’t because they were used to seeing me tired, I would use the reason that I normally came in half-dead with—I’d spent the night working. Which would have been true anyway if it hadn’t been for Sean’s surprise phone call.
When I finished running myself ragged on the treadmill, I showered and dressed, and realized it was still early. I could always go in before eight like I often did, but when I got into my car, I went in the opposite direction of my office.
The night before with Sean…that had been a first. Everything with him had become a first but this was different.
He’d been scared…sad…and he’d come to me when he needed someone. No one had ever come to me before, likely because I made it obvious I wasn’t open to something like that, but Sean had come…and I’d been okay with it. I’d been honored he’d wanted to talk to me and in that moment, there had been nothing I wanted more than to make him feel better. Than to help. Than to show him I could be the person someone counted on for more than my looks, or my career or the fact that I was a good fuck.
The dream had shaken him, which made sense. The thing was, I didn’t think it only shook him because it was painful to relive what happened with his brother. It was entwined with me, with what happened that night and though he obviously knew I was okay, I think he needed to hear my voice.