I nodded toward Aly, and looked pointedly at the ring on her finger. “Nice piece of ice.” She didn’t seem bothered by the compliment, but Ethan took her hand in his, motioning the ring toward the light, examining it with a satisfied grin brightening his expression. He should be proud. It was a good piece. “You got good taste.”
“Thanks, man.” Another nod, but then when Aly moved around the room to gather her things, he ignored me completely, watching her as I watched him watch her, I got the impression that Ethan was amazed. He reminded me of the first year players coming right out of college onto our team. There was always this dazzled expression on their faces, as though they’d somehow lucked up, snuck into training, making the team without anyone realizing they shouldn’t be there. Ethan watched Aly with that same stunned look—as though he half expected her to wake and realize she was too good for him.
I was familiar with giving her that same look.
He stood next to her, stopping her flurry of activity with a hand to her hip. “We need to go.” He took the blue bin from her, edging her toward the door. I lowered my eyes when he kissed her, hating that I had to watch that kiss, hating that I wanted to tell him he was standing too close to her, touching her with too much familiarity.
“I’m ready,” Aly told Ethan through a nervous smile before she glanced at me. “Can you give me a second?”
“A quick one, yeah. I’ll bring the car around.” He stuck out his right hand at me, again, the bin hanging from his left. “Ransom, man, it’s good to meet you. I’ve got you in my bracket. Do me proud this season.”
“I’ll do my best.” I shook his hand, grinning with a humor I didn’t quite mean as he kissed Aly’s forehead and disappeared through the door.
The room had gotten colder somehow, just in the small minutes since Ethan had entered. Maybe it had been cold before. Maybe I’d only just noticed it. She stared at me as I watched that door close, sure that the entire evening had been some fucked up nightmare.
“Are you okay?” Aly’s voice softened, missed the harshness it held just a few minutes before.
I answered her truthfully because she was the one person who’d know my lies when they came. “No.”
Two steps and I felt her behind me, smelled that delicious scent of her hair, her skin. “I’m sorry.” Despite her protest that she didn’t want my kiss, Aly didn’t keep her hands to herself. The touch, when it came, was sweet, meant to give me comfort, not entice me into something that would only lead me on. She pressed her cheek against my back and I held her fingers when she circled my waist with her hands. “It was…I was surprised.”
“Did you mean it?” A glance over my shoulder and I caught her gaze. “The yes?”
There was a long moment when she seemed only capable of staring, watching my features like she hoped there was an answer she’d find in them. When she didn’t, Aly looked away, resting her forehead on my shoulder.
“Aly?”
“I don’t know.” Her sigh warmed my back, heated my skin through the linen fabric of my shirt before she pushed away from me, standing near the door. “I know he’s solid.” I hated how she seemed more interested in her nails, in the pattern of tile on the floor, anything but the expression on my face. “I know he doesn’t expect anything from me. There’s zero pressure.”
I tilted my head, wondering if what I heard was what she actually said. Aly wasn’t timid, said nothing she didn’t mean and that pissed me off. “I pressured you?”
“That’s not what I meant.” We met in the middle of the room, not touching, just on the verge of needing to.
“Then what the hell did you mean?”
“I don’t have time to get into this and you probably have to get back.” She glanced behind me at the clock and pressed her lips together. “Don’t you have a flight to catch?”
“We can table this for now.” She arched an eyebrow at me but I ignored that expression. “I still think we need to have a conversation.”
“We really don’t. There’s nothing left to say.” I saw the decision to brush me off the second she made it. How many times had she done that to me over the years? A hundred? She was done, there would be no arguments and as she clicked off the light on the dressing table and headed out the room, I followed her. It’s what I always did. It’s what I’d likely always do just to hear her out. Just to make sure she heard me. “What happened between us in the past. I’ve moved on.”
That’s when I stopped her, pulling on her arm as she pushed it through her thin cardigan. “Thought that wouldn’t happen.”
Right there in her pause, in the breath she held, Aly told me everything: what she remembered, what she felt, what she tried to hold back from me.