He was quiet on the other end of the phone.
Chapter Three
Ethan
I was left wounded by her admission. Wounded because she thought I was capable of betraying her. Wounded because she thought I didn’t have more self-control, but most of all I was fucking devastated that she couldn’t feel about me the way I felt about her—not if she thought that I could ever want anyone else.
If she thought that sex with another woman could compare to her, she didn’t get it. The idea of some random hook-up made my skin crawl. Apart from the fact that Anna did things to my body that no one else did. I wasn’t convinced those things were entirely legal, they felt so good. The fucking was in a whole different category of sex that I hadn’t realized existed. But it wasn’t just fucking, it was connection, it was understanding. Or so I’d thought. But maybe it wasn’t like that for her. Maybe she’d had this before. Maybe this was good, but nothing special to her. She didn’t get how I felt about her. She couldn’t feel what I felt for her because if she did, she’d understand it wasn’t a possibility that I would even look at another woman. There would never be room in my brain, my heart or my soul for anyone else.
“Ethan,” she breathed.
“What can I do?” I asked. “To make it better, to reassure you that there will never be anyone else?”
It was her turn at silence now.
That gave me every answer I needed. There was nothing I could do. Nothing to show her how she wasn’t just another woman. I knew that she, and what we had, was different. She didn’t feel it and there was nothing I could do to show her. Especially from three thousand miles away.
The grip around my heart tightened.
I would lose her.
Maybe I’d never had her to begin with.
“Tell me about your day,” she said.
I didn’t know if I should force the issue, make her talk about it. It was my natural instinct but I’d lost confidence in our magic formula of no bullshit. It didn’t seem to be enough.
I started telling her in minute detail about everything that had happened. For some reason, it was important to get the details right. To be clear. To tell her everything. Time was ticking away. Eight was approaching, but I didn’t want to end our conversation. She should be sleeping now. Was she trying to stay awake?
“How did you make it home so early?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“On your first day back? You must have left the office at six-thirty to be home now.”
“I brought some work home. I wanted to speak to you. You . . . us. It’s my priority.”
More silence.
“I’m sorry I ruined it,” she said.
“You didn’t ruin anything.”
“But it wasn’t what you had planned.”
“You weren’t what I had planned, and look how lucky I got. I love giving you pleasure, I love getting you off, but it’s not the only thing between us, beautiful. Not for me.”
“Me either. But I want you to . . . you know.”
I laughed. “What?”
“You know, to, er, be satisfied.”
I could feel the warmth in her cheeks from here. “All the things we’ve done and you can’t tell me you want me to come?”
“Ethan.”
“What? It’s pretty funny.”
I loved the sound of her laugh.
“I promise to jerk off in the shower.”
“Promise to think of me.”
“Beautiful, I can think of nothing else any time of the day or night.” It was true, she totally owned me, and I wanted her to know it. “We’re going to make this work, you know.”
“Should it have to be an effort?” The giggle was gone. She sounded serious.
Every part of her was having doubts. She was dripping in them. And I didn’t know how to stem the flow.
“I don’t know about ‘should’,” I replied. “I’ve got nothing I can compare us to. All I know is that I want you and me to work more than I want anything else.”
She sighed. Was I pushing too hard? “But you’ve got to talk to me, I’m not there to see it in your face, you’re going to have to tell me what you’re thinking.”
I could almost hear her brain whirring at the other end of the phone. “It’s all jumbled up in my head. I’m not sure I have the words,” she responded.
“They don’t have to be in a particular order, just talk.” Jesus, I was desperate for her just to spit it out, to talk to me. I could deal with anything if I understood what was going on in her head. I wasn’t sure I’d understood what anxious meant before I’d met her. I guess because she had the power to hurt me—the power to walk away. I couldn’t, didn’t want to control her, I wanted her to choose me.