Page 26 of A Certain Step (Midnights at Pemberley #1)

The electric kettle’s handle made a popping sound, indicating the water had finished boiling. Willa looked toward him and then reached up to open the cabinet where he kept his mugs. She placed one down, and he handed her a tea bag.

“Milk?” he asked.

“I’m good for right now. Thank you, though.”

He sauntered over to his fridge, took out a can of Dr. Pepper, snapped it open, and then walked toward the sectional with her.

Ethan picked out two plain black coasters for them; Willa placed her cup down on one and then sat farther than she usually did.

He gave her a puzzled glance. Physically, maybe two other people could fit in between them.

“What?” she asked.

He tilted his head. “Why are you sitting so far away?”

“I’m not,” she disputed.

How was she so calm about this? Was every part of her not torching with rambunctious flames?

Was she doing this because she was nervous?

He didn ’t want to push her, but she was Willa.

He was Ethan. She’d jump on his back for shits and giggles every chance she got.

They were farther now than when they’d sit in his dressing room, for crying out loud.

“It feels like you’re on another continent. Can you come a little closer?” he pleaded.

Shaking her head affably, she moved a little. Her hand was close enough for him to reach for, but he stopped himself from doing so.

Her expression was indecipherable. He looked attentively at her for a second, trying to understand whether she was uncomfortable, shy, or something else.

His heart lodged in his throat. Willa was everything to him. He could finally divulge it all, every little thing he kept veiled out in the open.

Ethan broke the silence. “You mean the world to me, Willa, you know that, right?”

She seemed dejected at first, like he’d said the wrong thing. She swallowed, the sound of her slow breathing filling the space between them.

“You mean the same to me, Ethan. You’re my best friend. I’m pretty sure you’re my person. But that’s exactly what scares me.”

He closed his eyes, processing. Willa was among the smartest people he knew, but good grief, none of this made sense to him. “Why? How? That doesn’t add up. If there’s something more between us, why do we have to deny it?”

“Because…” she answered quietly, turning her head in the opposite direction.

Drawing a bit closer to her on the couch, he placed his fingers underneath her chin and gently tipped her head toward him. “Because why?”

She bit her lip, releasing a shaky exhale.

“ Midnights at Pemberley isn’t forever. Our contracts will end.

We’ll move on to the next show, and even though you’re stuck with me as a friend, we can’t guarantee that the distance and changes won’t drive us apart.

We don’t get full-time steadiness. It’s all temporary.

And if any part of our new jobs affects us, everything could crumble. You and Michelle didn’t survive it.”

His head was spinning.

She made sense, sure. But distance didn’t work out for people when they weren’t willing to make equal effort.

She had to have known that wouldn’t be the case for them.

“I hear you, but it’s not the same. Michelle and I had different issues.

Plus, I was with her for almost two years, and I didn’t experience a fraction of what I feel with you. That alone says something.”

Her eyes were a little sad.

“It’s too big of a risk on so many levels. What if I want to move back to London? What if...what if I decide I want a more consistent lifestyle? I’ve always wanted a family and a quiet life away from all the spotlight and chaos of our jobs. Your life is here. It’s always been here.”

His choice was inevitable—he’d choose Willa every day and follow her to the ends of the earth if that’s what she needed from him.

But he had no idea how to convince her of that.

He had no inkling of how to explain that he was convinced his heart would only ever beat for her without blurting that he was head over heels in love with her.

“I want a family, too. I want all of that. And as long as you don’t force me to start drinking afternoon tea, I’d go wherever you want me.”

She tilted her head, looking at him like she couldn’t believe the words out of his mouth.

“You say that now, and I believe you mean it, but when the time comes, it might not be what you want. Not to mention the fact that I would never force you to. I’d feel guilty about it. You’re too magnetic and brillia nt to ever leave the industry behind. The loss would be tremendous.”

It took everything in him not to reach forward and kiss her like the world was ending.

His words clearly weren’t enough—they weren’t selling his feelings like he wanted them to.

Maybe he’d have to show her. But he didn’t want to scare her away, either.

Intimacy was acceptable as long as she was playing a part, but he couldn’t guess where Willa stood on that matter outside of acting.

He didn’t want to push past the walls she’d built for herself.

Not without her permission. Her certainty.

But God, he wanted to somehow take what was inside of him and weave it into the very fabric of her being, so she’d know. So, she’d believe that he’d never been this serious about anything before.

She was it for him. She’d always be. She wouldn’t be forcing him to go anywhere when he was certain he only ever wanted to be beside her. It’d be impossible to be apart. For crying out loud, he couldn’t even last a week.

His adoration wasn’t fleeting. It was infinite.

Ethan reached for her and intertwined their fingers. “Can I ask you something? Yes or no. Just answer the question.”

She bobbed her head.

“Put aside everything else for a second. If you had things your way. If you knew, with utmost certainty, that we would last, even with distance, would you be with me?”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

He swallowed a lump in his throat, the finality in her tone made his chest grow heavy. “Willa, please, yes or no.”

“Yes.”

His eyes stung. Warmth blasted into his heart. “Then tell me what I can do to convince you that this could be good for us—that we could be good together, that it could last. I’ll do anything, Willa. I appreciate the faith you have in me and how you see my abilities, but you’re more important.”

Sliding closer to him on the couch, she lifted her other hand to Ethan’s cheek and traced his skin tenderly with her thumb.

“That’s the problem. I think deep down, I know that you’d take big leaps to convince me.

I know how much you give to other people.

But I’m scared—terrified, Ethan because I know that if something happened and we went our separate ways, it’d break me that you were no longer in my life.

My therapist said I could survive anything, but she was wrong.

I could lose so many people, and I’d be fine.

I’d move on eventually, but you—you’ve carved a space for yourself that’s so crucial in my life that if anything happened to us, I’d be walking around with a perpetual hole in my chest.”

He didn’t know what to say. He moved their entangled hands to his lips and pressed a delicate kiss to her wrist. “You’ve done the same for me, Wills.

It’s how I know that we’d fight like hell to keep what we have.

Distance, hectic schedules, calm, quiet nights, I know we’d make it work.

Please take a risk on us. We could take things slow, give it a try, see what unravels, and how we feel.

And if we see that it’s not working, or if it changes us too much, then we’ll stop, and nothing will shift between us. We could still be friends. I promise.”

“What does giving it a try look like?”

“However you want it to.”

“You could get impatient with me.”

He shook his head hard. “I’ll be as patient as you need.”

She sighed somberly, the sound so small, it broke him a little. “Everyone I’ve been with has said that.”

“Well, they’re all morons, and I’m selfishly grateful. I didn’t know I had jealousy in me until the thought of you being with someone else crossed my mind. I couldn’t share you with another man. I couldn’ t stand the thought of someone else being your person.”

The sentiment made her smile, the honeyed awe-struck wonder in her eyes making its gradual return. He wanted to ask about Alden and what he’d done specifically, knowing he was the worst of them and that whatever it was, it had messed with her the most.

He swallowed. “Will you tell me what Alden did? So, I know never to make that same mistake.”

She huffed. “You’d never.”

Ethan stayed silent for a beat, unsure of what to say, wondering if she’d continue. She sighed heavily and put her face in her hand like she was stabilizing herself. He waited patiently.

She arched back, taking the cup in her hand and drinking from her tea. She set it down and looked at him. “Both Jesse and Robert got tired of waiting, so they dumped me early on,” she started.

Well, fuck both Jesse and Robert, he thought.

“But it’d been five-ish months with Alden, and he would frequently say things like ‘I believe demisexuality is real, but maybe you should just try to, ‘break the dam and all.’” Those must have been his exact words because she emphasized them with air quotes.

“He said it so much that I started feeling like there was something seriously wrong with me. I was thirty-one at the time, and in my head about everything. I talked about it with my therapist often, and I kept feeling like his words just wouldn’t leave me alone—that maybe he was right.

He also kept saying how it made no sense that I felt so comfortable using my body the way I did while performing but couldn’t do the same with men I was dating. As if it was the same thing.”

She shook her head, willing something out, he assumed .

“No one knows this but my therapist and Sahar.”