“I don’t fucking care,” he’d growl. “Let them watch. I need you. Now.”
She had already burned through two sets of batteries in her vibrator in the last two weeks. What she really needed was to get laid, preferably by someone who wasn’t terrified of what would happen if he spent more than five minutes alone with her. Other than a mediocre one-night stand nearly two years ago in a drunken attempt at a rebound, there’d been no one since Callum. Unfortunately, that desire carried a million-dollar price tag. Replacing the batteries was cheaper—for now.
* * *
—
ONE MORNING, ABOUT a month and a half into their arrangement, Grey was scrounging through Ethan’s barer-than-usual fridge trying to decide if she’d have better luck attempting an omelet or a smoothie for breakfast. Ethan’s front door slammed open, surprising Grey so much that she almost dropped the jar of expired cocktail onions she was holding.
The intruder—a tall, gangly man who appeared to be in his early twenties—looked startled, too, but quickly regained his composure. “Oh. Hi. Sorry, I didn’t think—you must be Grey.”
He walked into the kitchen, placing the two overflowing reusable grocery bags on the island. He extended his hand to her. “I’m Lucas.”
Grey raised her eyebrows, reaching her hand out to shake his. “Lucas! Nice to finally meet you outside of my phone.”
Lucas grinned, beginning to unpack the bags. Grey went to help him, pulling out a loaf of crusty sourdough and a tub of fancy herbed goat cheese. Her mouth started to water.
“Ethan prefers that I keep myself scarce. You know how he is.”
“Oh, I know. This place would fall apart without you, though.”
Lucas gave a deep curtsy, arms spread wide. Grey laughed and applauded obligingly. “Nice to be appreciated. Hold on, gotta make one more trip.”
He darted back out the front door and quickly returned, balancing several cases of beer in his arms.
“Guess it’s party time,” Grey muttered under her breath. Lucas shot her a quick look. She toyed with the idea of saying something to him, seeing how much he knew, what he thought. Her courage failed, and instead she asked: “So, how did you land this dream job?”
Lucas went back to unloading the rest of the groceries. “Good old-fashioned nepotism, actually. Ethan’s my uncle.”
Grey couldn’t hide her shock. “Oh! Oh. I had no idea. He never mentioned it. He, um, doesn’t talk about his family much.” Or about anything at all. Now that she knew to look for it, though, there was an undeniable resemblance between the two of them.
He shrugged. “I don’t really take it personally. I might be the only member of our family he talks to regularly. I kinda think my mom made him hire me just so I can keep an eye on him.”
“I knew it,” Ethan’s voice proclaimed drily behind them. Grey turned around to see him padding over, barefoot, hair still wet from the shower, T-shirt clinging to his damp torso. “Once an older sister, always an older sister. What’s in the report this week?”
He was in a good mood today. Grey never knew which Ethan she would get: surly, flirty, charming, distant. Sometimes she got them all in the same night. She didn’t take it personally anymore. His issues predated her, and they would still be there once she was out of his life. Still, as he cupped her face with his hands and planted a soft kiss on her forehead—obviously for Lucas’s benefit—she wished that this Ethan would show up more often.
“She’ll be thrilled to hear I finally met your new girlfriend. She’s been on my ass about it for weeks.”
Ethan released Grey and moved around the island, opening a plastic clamshell of cherry tomatoes and popping one into his mouth. “And?”
“Way too good for you.”
Ethan shrugged. “He’s right.”
Grey rolled an apple from one hand to another, feeling fidgety. “As long as we’re all on the same page.”
Lucas unloaded the last few items from the bags and folded them under his arm. “If you don’t need anything else, I’ll get out of your hair.”
“All good,” Ethan said curtly, going to the fridge without giving him a second look.
Lucas nodded. “Nice to meet you, Grey.”
“You, too. Thank you so much for everything. Really,” she replied pointedly.
“Anytime,” he called as he headed out the door, leaving the two of them alone.
There was a long moment of silence. Ethan had his head in the fridge for so long that Grey wondered if he was counting every individual egg. She stared at the apple in her hand, contemplating the best way to make her exit.
When Ethan finally spoke, he spoke to the fridge. “Seems like my manners need some work.” His tone was even, awaiting her censure. She refused to rise to the bait.
“He’s very sweet.”
“Guess it skipped a generation.”
Grey was glad his back was still toward her so he couldn’t see her roll her eyes. She wasn’t getting out of this interaction without fluffing his ego a little. She internally swore she would never let herself reach this level of insecure celebrity.
“You can be sweet. When you want to be.”
He shut the fridge door without removing anything, turning to face her.
“What are you up to today?” His tone was casual but his eyes searched her face.
“Um, nothing much. I was just about to head out.” She kept her answer purposely vague, unsure where he was going.
“Want to stick around for breakfast? I’m full of ingredients. I could cook you something.”
Grey felt her stomach twist. Of course she wanted him to cook her breakfast. She wanted to ogle his forearms while he chopped vegetables and tease him about his egg-flipping technique and brush his knee with hers as they ate, like they were a real couple. But she knew that doing that would only make his inevitable sullen withdrawal start to sting again.
“I don’t…I appreciate the offer. But I really should get going.”
Ethan’s brow creased. In that moment, he looked like a forlorn little boy. She felt a pang in her chest at turning him down.
“Are you sure?” he asked, almost pitiful.
She slid off the stool next to the island and picked up her overnight bag.
“I…yeah. Sorry. Thanks, though. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
She slung the bag over her shoulder.
“Do you regret it?”
He wasn’t looking at her, instead focusing intently on a small crack in the countertop.
“Regret what?” she replied, confused.
“This. Me.” He met her eyes. “I can buy you out of the contract if you want. No hard feelings. I’ll take the heat from Audrey.”
They held eye contact for a fraught moment before she burst out laughing. She dropped her bag on the floor and strode back to the kitchen island.
“Jesus Christ, fine, I’ll have breakfast with you, you big drama queen.”
Ethan let out an indignant exhalation. “I’m not—you don’t have to—” he stammered. Grey held up her hand to stop him and sat authoritatively back down on the stool.
“Nope. I’m here. I’m hungry. What are you making me?” She propped her elbows on the table and set her chin in her hands, blinking innocently. Ethan opened his mouth again, then closed it and turned back to the fridge.
“Sweet or savory?”
A smile played at the corners of Grey’s mouth. “I guess I know better than to ask for sweet.”
* * *
—