Page 3 of A Certain Step (Midnights at Pemberley #1)

WILLA

T here were people in the world, blessed in a way she could never fathom, who came out of airplanes miraculously still looking like gods and goddesses.

But Willa always felt like a deliriously disgruntled raccoon who’d just raided every rubbish bin in the neighborhood.

She hadn’t even moved. Why did she look and feel like she tried and failed to run a marathon?

She regretted telling Ethan he could pick her up. No human should see her like this. After securing her luggage, Willa ran to the loo, freshened up by brushing her teeth, and sprayed a bit of perfume.

When she walked out of the airport and saw him through the window of his car, the familiarity of his smile sent every other thought running.

He stepped out, popped the boot, and took her luggage from her.

She set her backpack down next to it, and then he enveloped her in a firm but brief embrace. God, he smelled divine, the recognizable cologne he wore hitting her like a striking gust of wind .

He let her go, and she released a breathy laugh. “I feel so gross coming off that plane; you’d think I haven’t showered in seventy-two years. And now you have to destroy your clothes, too. Sorry.”

“You look great, and your perfume hasn’t worn off either,” he said, glancing at her with a regard that felt like home. Well, good. I touched it up.

At the very least, Ethan would never lie. If she had smelled as gross as she felt, then he would’ve kept quiet.

“Well, I’m glad the interior raccoon feelings aren’t translating to the exterior.”

Ethan laughed, wondrously deep and warm, then opened the passenger door for her. “Let’s get you home, little raccoon.”

“Are you coming over?” Willa asked.

“Do you want me to?”

“No, I asked because I wanted to hear you say yes, only to respond that no one invited you, and you’re not welcome,” she deadpanned.

His lips curved upward. “Aggressive.”

“You’re coming, and we’re continuing our Peaky Blinders watch after I shower. You didn’t watch any new episodes without me, did you?”

“Would I ever betray you like that, little raccoon?” Ethan answered.

“I’m not into this nickname. It’s not doing any favors to my self-esteem.”

“How about a cute little raccoon?” he specified, and her heart did an alien gallop.

“My raccoon state will end soon. What then? I have to live with this pesky reminder?”

He shrugged. “We’ll think of something else.”

“What we should think of is what we’re drinking. ”

Ethan looked toward her. “Now you’re talking. Is Sahar going to be home?”

“No, she’s gone to the Hamptons with the prick’s prissy friends. She’ll be back tomorrow.”

“You really don’t like that guy.”

Willa rolled her eyes. “I don’t like blue cheese. I loathe that guy. He’s the bloody worst. I have no idea what she sees in him or why she puts up with all his bullshit when she could have literally any man falling at her feet.”

“He’s a kiss ass. The only thing he has going for him is a decent voice and a face to match. He shows everyone what they want to see.”

Huffing, Willa replied. “Yeah, except the woman he supposedly loves—the one who’s too good for him. Anyway, enough about him. Are you feeling a bit relieved now that interviews are done?”

“Excluding the red carpet for the premiere, you have no idea. Though, I think it went okay this time. The group interviews and behind-the-scenes content went especially well. I wish you’d been a part of them,” Ethan answered.

Willa smiled at him. “Sahar told me! It makes me so happy to hear that. I’m sorry they make you so nervous, though.”

“Yeah, well, some journalists haven’t made it easy in the past.”

She arched her eyebrows. “Journalists, fans, even some fellow actors; it’s the curse of not having any boundaries in our industry.”

“I hate that this is also why social media freaks you out so much,” he added.

She didn’t want to think about that right now. She didn’t want to think about the fact that their lives would always be brimming with chaotic highs and lows without the added privilege of privacy .

“Yup,” she replied.

“I can’t say I blame you. At all.”

She shrugged. “Oh, any updates on your guest room? Forgot to ask about that.”

He let out a sarcastic laugh. “Fucking hell, Wills, I thought I told you. A damn pipe burst in the guest bathroom, flooded into the damn room. I swear it’s just gonna be storage space until I actually get some actual time off to deal with it.”

“Christ. That’s some shit luck, mate.”

“Tell me about it,” he said.

They stayed quiet for a beat, letting the music stretch out and fill the comfortable silence between them. Willa glanced over at him. Why did everything feel so…different suddenly?

The two of them had been nearly joined at the hip from the moment Willa quoted The Muppet Christmas Carol —specifically the line about jellybeans—and Ethan was the only one who got the reference.

Come to find out, they were both obsessed with the film and watched it multiple times every year during the holidays.

From then on, it’d been movie nights almost every other day and regularly starting TV shows together. The nights turned into breakfast the next morning and easy conversations about anything and everything.

She had been the first person he told when he found out his grandfather passed, smack dab in the middle of their Boston run.

He got the phone call right as he’d gotten to his hotel room.

She ran up to his floor. He threw himself into her arms. She stayed with him until he fell asleep.

He was only able to get away for one day, and then he’d called her after the funeral, too.

Willa met him at the airport upon his return, wanting to be beside him in case he needed anything.

She held him when he cried silently on the couch. She watched him pour his heart out into an emotionally taxing performance the next day, then sat with him as he crumbled in her arms in his dressing room.

They’d become each other’s safe space.

And then came her birthday, two weeks after his grandpa’s passing.

He had called her at midnight, his voice a little muted and husky.

“ I set an alarm for you ,” he had admitted.

“I wanted to be the first to say happy birthday .” She thanked him, laid back against her pillow, phone resting along her ear.

“ I wish I had eloquent words, Wills, but they’re escaping me right now.

You’re my best friend, and the world is better with you in it.

I hope this year is extra kind to you, and I hope you get everything you’ve always wished for, ” he declared, the vulnerability in his voice staying with her during the loneliest nights. The sincerity, the warmth.

She thought she had imagined it when she woke up in the morning, checking her phone’s caller ID to confirm that it had indeed been true.

There was a moment that night when she questioned whether she could feel something more for him, but she buried the feelings as quickly as they materialized. This was merely a friendship—a lasting, life-altering, perfect friendship.

Plus, she had rules against dating actors and an even more rigid belief that best friends should never venture toward the uncharted territory of becoming lovers.

And the entire cast was close, too. How they’d quickly become like a family after the first few gatherings made the Boston tryouts that much more comforting.

Coffee runs, ridiculous social media-led lives always conducted by their Bingley, Sam Butler, many nights playing “Werewolf,” and breaking into bonkers arguments as a result of the tension.

Willa faced Ethan in the driver’s seat. Things were shifting. She wasn’t quite sure why, but her reactions to him felt different.

He had a face carved exclusively for the spotlight.

It was made even more beautiful because of all the ways she knew him.

She knew of Ethan Everett long before she worked with him, but what she learned was that despite the roles he’d take on, despite what a heartthrob he was, he could be quiet, a little shy even.

He had the biggest heart of any man she knew.

His presence suddenly overwhelmed her, like the sun making a quick appearance on a day that assured only rainfall. Kaleidoscopic hues waltzed through her mind, begging her to marvel at him—to stare for a little while longer.

Bloody hell. What was happening to her? Missing him had done something she wasn’t prepared for.

Willa applied hyaluronic acid and topped it off with a generous amount of moisturizer to combat the dryness of her skin after the plane ride.

She then detangled her hair with a wet brush and ambled over to Ethan, who was standing in her kitchen, mixing cocktails.

They had picked up a pie from Leo’s Pizza on their way over, and she quickly scarfed down a slice before jumping into the shower.

Ethan had taken the pepperoni off his and left them on a plate for her.

She popped two of them into her mouth at once and gave him a gratified grin.

She eyed the drinks then. “What are we having?” she asked. He looked obscenely hot handling the silver shaker. If she hadn’t known he’d bartended back in the day while still making his way into the industry, she would’ve assumed he was a natural at it.

“Sour cherry negroni,” he replied.

“The telepathic part of my brain that signaled to yours I wanted something sour deserves an award.”

Ethan winked, a delicious smirk rising alongside it. “I got you.”

Willa took the rest of the pepperoni slices and beelined over to the TV st and; grabbing the remote, she plopped herself on the sofa. They should watch something. It’d help her shake whatever emotions were nagging at her.

Or, there was that puzzle she wanted to start—the one of Paris bathed in moonlight. Would Ethan want to make it with her?