don’t.” My voice was just a whisper and there was so much I wanted to say but did not have the expressible words to phrase it. “You don’t want to be with me, Ethan.”
“I know I do, beautiful Brynne.” I could hear him exhaling from his cigarette. “And now the only question is will you? Will you be with me again, Brynne Bennett?”
I couldn’t help it. His words made me tear up. My only saving grace was Ethan couldn’t actually see me crying through the phone but I was pretty sure he could hear me.
“And now I’ve made you cry. Is that good or bad, baby? Tell me please, because I don’t know.” The yearning in his voice broke my resistance down.
“It’s good...” I laughed awkwardly. “And I don’t know when. I have plans tonight with Benny and Gaby.”
“I understand,” he said.
Was I agreeing to see him again? We both knew the answer to his question. The thing is Ethan drew me in. From the first night since we’d met he’d held me captivated. Yes we had moved fast into sex. Yes he had pushed me a little, but it had brought me to a place that felt wonderful when I could forget about my past. Ethan made me feel very, very safe in a way that surprised me and forced me to consider the reasons for it. I didn’t have a ton of faith that we might work out, but it sure as hell would be an affair to remember.
“Can we take it slow, Ethan Blackstone?”
“I’m taking that as a yes. And of course we can.” I heard the soft brush of an exhale again. A pause as if he was gathering his courage. “Brynne?”
“Yes?”
“I am smiling so wide right now.”
“I am too, Ethan.”
7
The club scene in London is pretty damn awesome. We didn’t do it often but a good club crawl was just what I needed. My poor psyche was on maximum overload in a conflict of emotions, fears, and guilt. I needed to dance and drink and laugh but most of all I needed to forget about all the shit. Life was too short to dwell on the dark parts, or at least that’s what my therapist said. I had an appointment with Dr. Roswell tomorrow at four o’clock and a dinner date with Ethan after. Our first step in the take-it-slow agreement we’d made on the phone. He’d told me he wanted to lay the cards out on the table and I have to admit I liked that. The truth works best for me. I really don’t have anything to hide; it was more being careful about what I wanted to share. And I didn’t know how much I could share with Ethan either. There was no guide map to help me. I had to ride the wave and hope I didn’t crash into the reef and drown.
“Try this. It’s magnificent.” Benny handed me a tall orangey-red drink in a hurricane glass. “They’re calling it an Olympic Flame.”
I took a sip. “Nice.” We both watched Gaby banging it out on the dance floor with some guy who would definitely not get lucky tonight. We’d hit three clubs so far and my feet were starting to put up a protest. My dark purple boots looked great with my one shouldered floral dress, but three clubs in and I was ready for some fluffy socks. “My cowboy boot fetish is coming back to haunt me I think.” I smirked at Benny and lifted a boot.
“You own like ten pairs of them.” He shrugged. “I think they look hot. You know,” Ben said thoughtfully, “nude in boots would make some delicious portraits.” He nodded quickly. “Your body and your boots. Am I right? I want to do it. I can light it very dark and cast the boots in color. You have so many different shades—yellow, pink, green, blue, red. They’ll look brilliant. Just art, nothing overt.” He looked at me. “Will you do it, Bree?”
“Well…sure I will. If you think it’ll make good pictures then of course I’ll sign a release for my boots.” I stuck my tongue out at him. “My mother will have a coronary.” I waited for Ben’s sarcastic
“I know I do, beautiful Brynne.” I could hear him exhaling from his cigarette. “And now the only question is will you? Will you be with me again, Brynne Bennett?”
I couldn’t help it. His words made me tear up. My only saving grace was Ethan couldn’t actually see me crying through the phone but I was pretty sure he could hear me.
“And now I’ve made you cry. Is that good or bad, baby? Tell me please, because I don’t know.” The yearning in his voice broke my resistance down.
“It’s good...” I laughed awkwardly. “And I don’t know when. I have plans tonight with Benny and Gaby.”
“I understand,” he said.
Was I agreeing to see him again? We both knew the answer to his question. The thing is Ethan drew me in. From the first night since we’d met he’d held me captivated. Yes we had moved fast into sex. Yes he had pushed me a little, but it had brought me to a place that felt wonderful when I could forget about my past. Ethan made me feel very, very safe in a way that surprised me and forced me to consider the reasons for it. I didn’t have a ton of faith that we might work out, but it sure as hell would be an affair to remember.
“Can we take it slow, Ethan Blackstone?”
“I’m taking that as a yes. And of course we can.” I heard the soft brush of an exhale again. A pause as if he was gathering his courage. “Brynne?”
“Yes?”
“I am smiling so wide right now.”
“I am too, Ethan.”
7
The club scene in London is pretty damn awesome. We didn’t do it often but a good club crawl was just what I needed. My poor psyche was on maximum overload in a conflict of emotions, fears, and guilt. I needed to dance and drink and laugh but most of all I needed to forget about all the shit. Life was too short to dwell on the dark parts, or at least that’s what my therapist said. I had an appointment with Dr. Roswell tomorrow at four o’clock and a dinner date with Ethan after. Our first step in the take-it-slow agreement we’d made on the phone. He’d told me he wanted to lay the cards out on the table and I have to admit I liked that. The truth works best for me. I really don’t have anything to hide; it was more being careful about what I wanted to share. And I didn’t know how much I could share with Ethan either. There was no guide map to help me. I had to ride the wave and hope I didn’t crash into the reef and drown.
“Try this. It’s magnificent.” Benny handed me a tall orangey-red drink in a hurricane glass. “They’re calling it an Olympic Flame.”
I took a sip. “Nice.” We both watched Gaby banging it out on the dance floor with some guy who would definitely not get lucky tonight. We’d hit three clubs so far and my feet were starting to put up a protest. My dark purple boots looked great with my one shouldered floral dress, but three clubs in and I was ready for some fluffy socks. “My cowboy boot fetish is coming back to haunt me I think.” I smirked at Benny and lifted a boot.
“You own like ten pairs of them.” He shrugged. “I think they look hot. You know,” Ben said thoughtfully, “nude in boots would make some delicious portraits.” He nodded quickly. “Your body and your boots. Am I right? I want to do it. I can light it very dark and cast the boots in color. You have so many different shades—yellow, pink, green, blue, red. They’ll look brilliant. Just art, nothing overt.” He looked at me. “Will you do it, Bree?”
“Well…sure I will. If you think it’ll make good pictures then of course I’ll sign a release for my boots.” I stuck my tongue out at him. “My mother will have a coronary.” I waited for Ben’s sarcastic
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