Page 17 of A Certain Step (Midnights at Pemberley #1)

WILLA

E than forked out all the pickles in his sandwich onto Willa’s plate, spiritedly rolling his eyes in the process.

“You’re my hero today,” she claimed.

He took a bite of his pickle-free sandwich and chewed fully before speaking. “What about tomorrow?”

“That depends on whether you have pickles for me or not.”

He chuckled, taking another mouthful.

She took a bite of her pickle-heavy sandwich. They were seated on the grey sofa in Ethan’s dressing room, his Bluetooth speaker humming with a customized Bon Iver mix. Close and comfortable, as they’d always been.

For once, she was thankful for her period.

Grateful for the fact that she crashed immediately after Ethan went home last night instead of letting her mind fixate on the way he hugged her before he left.

Then, this morning, she woke up and distracted herself with laundry and cleaning around the house, blasting upbeat dance music to keep her mind singing along instead of marinating in unnecessary thoughts.

But now that she was beside him again, his cologne deliciously prickled her nose with the maddening temptation to breathe him in.

He wore the kind of annoyingly tight white T-shirt that made his bulging biceps stand out in an even more tormenting fashion and light blue jeans with his hair tousled, sans any styling products before the show.

These moments with Ethan were among her favorites. She knew that if this were any other day and she laid her head on his shoulder now, he’d allow it without a word. He wouldn’t question it. But because she was thinking about it—because she wanted it, she wouldn’t let herself have it.

She wanted to be more intentional about choosing herself, but she wasn’t sure what that looked like when it came to Ethan. He glanced at her for a split second and smiled, taking another bite of his sandwich.

She loved the quiet conviction in his eyes with everything in her—the low baritone he kept to preserve his voice.

This was another part of the reason she respected him so much.

His work ethic was unquestionably admirable.

His drive to bring the best of his abilities to every performance and every interview, even while the vast majority of the attention made him uncomfortable.

And no one really knew that about him, either.

People often assumed that anyone in the spotlight always wanted the attention, signed and vetoed their freedom away like a sheltered princess desperate for an escape and bargaining with a sea witch.

But that wasn’t part of the deal any of them ever made, even when they acquiesced to endure the fatiguing heartaches the industry entailed and demanded.

And Ethan Everett sacrificed so much of his own comfort to please others that she wished he’d stop. He did it for her, too. She could tell as much. He was doing it now, choosing to eat whatever she wanted, instead of doing something for himself.

He’d gotten better at moving at his own pace, not giving into every stage door demand when his body necessitated that he should leave straight af ter a show.

At the expense of his mental health at times, she’d even watched him wrestle against his demons, trying to convince himself that he should do something just because he could—because it was expected of him, even though it’d take too much out of him.

Maybe he also needed to be intentional about choosing himself guiltlessly.

She adored the fact that she got to sit with him during these quiet moments before a show.

She remembered the first time they did this, and how he’d stopped her when she got up to leave, asking her to stay, to be with him for a little while longer.

She’d obliged, appreciating the silence that filled the space between them, bringing them closer in a way that eased her just as much.

Only then, Willa hadn’t developed feelings for him.

She hadn’t wanted anything more. She didn’t think about what it’d feel like to kiss him, to move with him in a way that was intentional and not for show.

She didn’t think about what it would be like to hold him when he was tired and kiss away that look that told her something was eating him up inside.

She’d thought about what would happen if she ever went on as Elizabeth, but the idea seemed so impossible—plus, in that case, they wouldn’t be Ethan and Willa—they’d be Darcy and Elizabeth.

It wouldn’t mean anything. He couldn’t possibly want the same things she did, which must’ve been why he felt so comfortable with her. She was his best friend. Nothing more.

She put the last piece of her sandwich in her mouth and folded the wrapping paper into the larger plastic bag sitting beside them on the floor. She took her Dr. Pepper in her hands and leaned back against the couch.

Catching the movement, Ethan’s face angled toward her, his eyes gentle and warm. “Are you feeling better today?” he asked .

She nodded. “Much. The first day is always the worst for me, but I’m lucky; some women are in pain for days.”

“I’m still in awe you perform like that.”

She gave him a lopsided grin. “Oh, mate. You have no idea how much we’re capable of. There’d be bloody national holidays if men ever got periods.”

He bobbed his head to the side. “I wouldn’t doubt it.”

She was about to respond when they heard a rap on the door.

“Yeah,” Ethan called out.

“I’m live on Instagram. You decent? Can I come in?” Sam called out from the other side.

Ethan let out a low chuckle. “Yeah, come.” Sam ambled in, prompting another laugh out of Ethan before he continued. “Decent? Dec’s the one who sits in his dressing room without a shirt all day.”

“Willa!” Sam bellowed, turning the camera to face them both. “It’s a bonus round, folks. One of our queens is here, too,” he started, pausing to add, “Also, do you all hear this asshole’s tone? I’m out here considering his comfort, and he has the gall to be rude to me.”

Willa moved closer to Ethan on the couch, giving Sam room to crash with them. Sam plopped down, holding the camera in such a way that all three of them would be in the frame.

Sam immediately pointed to an incoming comment that read, Ethan’s hair looks especially good today with a bunch of fire emojis. Willa turned her head to face him. “It does, zrob2019 ; it does,” she said.

Sam reached over from beside her to grab onto it gently. “It’s soft, too. He knows how to use conditioner.”

Ethan forcefully shook off Sam’s hand, but Willa knew it didn’t actually bother him. He bobbed his head with a small bow. “Thank you. Thank you, and you,” he added, pointing to Sam, “Paws off my locks.”

Faking a dramatic frown, Sam laid his head on Willa’s shoulder. “How do you put up with this bully, Wills?”

She patted the side of his temple. “There, there. He’s getting into character, remember?”

A second later, Ethan crumpled up a piece of napkin and threw it on Sam’s head. Willa looked at the camera and shook her head jokingly. “Do you two need me to give you some space?”

Ethan’s hand swung down to her knee and squeezed. “Don’t you dare leave me alone with him,” he quipped. He kept his hand there briefly.

The three of them broke into a shared chuckle.

Ethan then pointed to a question that read, “Is Declan really always shirtless?”

Still chuckling, Sam answered first. “Yes. We’re not exaggerating. He’s shirtless like ninety-five percent of the time. It’s obnoxious. It’ll be negative nineteen degrees out, and he’s still walking around with his chest out.”

“Can confirm, but push that percentage up to ninety-eight,” Ethan added.

Another two or three comments flew by them, with some variation of, “Show us!”

“I will. We’ll go there next. Any interesting questions for these two while they’re in an obliging mood?” Sam said.

“Who said we’re in an obliging mood? You just barged in here,” Ethan deadpanned.

Sam rolled his eyes lovingly. “I did. You wouldn’t disappoint the fans like that.”

“No, but I’m happy to disappoint you.”

Willa looked between them in the extremely tight spot, then burst out laughing. It prompted them to follow .

They looked to the camera then, reading, waiting for something interesting and appropriate to answer.

“This person wants to know if we were Austen fans before signing on to the production. I’m so sorry, I didn’t catch the username quick enough,” Willa read.

Ethan looked to Willa first, initiating for her to start the conversation.

“I was! I grew up going to Bath frequently, so it was a big deal for me to get to do this. But, okay, no one kill me. Pride and Prejudice is my third favorite. I’m a hardcore Henry Tilney girl first, Mr. Knightley second, then Darcy. ”

Ethan and Sam let out audibly fake gasps. “Leave, you can’t sit here anymore. Security! Get her off this damn production,” Sam exclaimed.

Willa rolled her eyes, laughing. “Oh, is that so, Mr. I Watched 2005 Pride and Prejudice First Then Read the Book?”

Sam put up his free hand in surrender. “Fair, but hold. Pride and Prejudice wasn’t part of my curriculum. I didn’t do well in school. Leave me alone. I did read it extensively, though, to study, so jokes on you.”

Ethan chimed in next. “I read it in school but didn’t think much of it at the time. I really liked the Colin Firth mini-series,” he added, turning to Willa. “Which year was that again?”

“1995, BBC,” she answered.

“Yeah, I really dug that one. Ooh, and the zombies one they did a while back was hella cool. But I do know it like the back of my hand now. I don’t know if it’s this performance or my age, but I appreciate it way more than when I was in high school.”

Willa nodded with understanding. “You just made yourself sound ancient,” she started with a laugh.

“I get that, though. It’s hard to appreciate most of the books we’re forced to study, but then when you read it when you want to, it’s an entirely different experience. That was also a great question.”