Page 18 of Ethan (Pecan Pines #7)

Dean

I woke to an empty bed. Again.

The sheets on Ethan’s side were untouched. Like he hadn’t even crawled in sometime during the night. This was what, the third morning now?

A hollow ache settled in my chest as I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. I missed him.

Missed waking up to his warmth pressed against me, his breath steady against my skin.

Missed the quiet weight of his hand curled over my side, like I was something worth holding onto. Instead, I was alone.

With a heavy sigh, I turned on my side and fumbled for my phone. Maybe there was a message. Maybe a simple "sorry, I had an early shift" or "got pulled into something" would be waiting for me.

Anything to chase away the slow-burning worry that had been gnawing at me for days.

Nothing. Disappointment slid into my chest like a dull blade.

I tossed the phone onto the bed and rubbed my face with both hands. What the hell was going on? Ever since Devon showed up again, Ethan had been… distant.

He claimed he was just busy at the clinic. Said the influx of wild wolf injuries had kept him running on fumes. And maybe that was true. Maybe he really was buried in work.

But too busy to even send a message?

I tried to stay rational. I tried to believe there was a good reason for it. But the longer the silence stretched between us, the more my brain started picking at itself, going over everything I might have done wrong.

Was I too much? Had I moved too fast? Had I said something I didn’t realize cut too deep?

The screen of my phone lit up again. Not with a message from Ethan, but with an incoming call from Carter. I groaned and flopped onto my stomach.

Of all the people I didn’t want to deal with this morning, Carter was at the top of the list.

But I knew my brother. If I didn’t pick up now, he’d just keep calling. And calling. And calling. Reluctantly, I swiped to answer.

“What?” I muttered, voice gravelly with sleep and frustration.

“Well, good morning to you too,” Carter drawled. “You sound like you slept on the wrong side of the bed.”

“I’m fine,” I gritted out, already regretting answering.

“Uh-huh. You always get like this when you’re fine.” There was a pause, and his voice turned serious. “Talk to me, Dean. What’s going on?”

“Enforcer training’s going well,” I said automatically. “I’m shaping up and learning fast.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Carter pointed out.

I stayed silent.

“Look,” Carter continued, gentler now, “you know I can tell when something’s eating at you. You sound like a kicked puppy.”

I huffed a breath, half amused, half irritated. “It’s nothing,” I mumbled. Why couldn’t Carter leave this alone?

Carter let the silence stretch until I cracked.

“It’s Ethan,” I finally admitted, voice low. “I think he’s avoiding me.”

“Damn. Really?” Carter sounded surprised.

“Yeah. Ever since Devon came back, Ethan’s been distant. Says he’s busy at the clinic, but…” I trailed off, staring at the empty spot beside me. “I don’t know. Feels like he’s slipping away,” I admitted.

“Have you asked him about it?”

“No,” I said tightly. “I don’t want to pressure him. If something’s wrong, I figured he’d tell me.”

“Maybe he doesn’t know how,” Carter said. “Or maybe he thinks he’s protecting you. People do dumb things when they’re scared or confused.”

“Yeah, well, I wish he’d let me in instead of shutting me out,” I muttered.

“Then talk to him. Don’t guess. Don’t spiral. Just ask him.” Carter sighed. “You like this guy, right?”

“I really do.” I suspected I more than liked him, but I didn’t tell Carter that yet.

“Then don’t let a little distance turn into a canyon. Find out what’s really going on,” Carter said.

I swallowed hard, throat tight. “Thanks.”

“Anytime. And hey, if he doesn’t see what he’s got in front of him, he’s an idiot,” Carter pointed out.

I managed a small, dry laugh. “You always did know how to cheer me up.”

“That’s what big brothers are for,” he said.

We hung up, and I lay there for a moment longer, Carter’s words echoing in my mind. Find out what’s really going on. Right.

I rolled out of bed, stretching as I padded across the room. The shower steamed up the bathroom mirror while I stood under the spray, trying to shake the weight from my shoulders.

I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. I didn’t want to smother Ethan or accuse him of things I didn’t understand yet.

But I also didn’t want to sit around waiting and wondering if I’d already lost him.

Once I was dressed, I slipped my phone into my pocket and glanced at the clock. The clinic would be open by now.

Maybe I’d stop by. Not to demand answers. Just to see him.

Just to remind myself that he was still real and still here.

Maybe he’d talk to me. Maybe he wouldn’t. But I had to try.

Because waking up to an empty bed was starting to feel like a bruise I couldn’t shake, and I didn’t want to keep pretending like it didn’t hurt.

By the time I reached the pack house, an idea floated to the front of my mind. Maybe… maybe Ethan just needed something small.

Something comforting. Something that would say I’m here without needing to push him for answers he wasn’t ready to give.

Coffee. Or maybe something sweeter. Something from the Vanilla Bean Café.

It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it was something. And maybe it’d get him to slow down long enough to look at me again the way he used to.

So I turned around, hopped in my ride, and drove to town.

The Vanilla Bean was already buzzing despite the early hour, and the line snaked out the door. Looked like half of Pecan Pines had the same idea.

I shoved my hands into my pockets and took my place in the queue. Patience wasn’t exactly my strong suit, especially not lately. Especially not when it came to Ethan.

But I waited. Checked my phone. Still nothing.

I ordered Ethan’s favorite drink and a rich hot cocoa with extra whipped cream for Micah.

I figured if I was going to look like a fool with a hopeful coffee offering, I might as well bribe the snarky kid into sparing me any sharp commentary.

By the time I made it back to the clinic, the mood had shifted.

It was busy. Too busy.

Inside, the air was taut with urgency. The scent of antiseptic hit my nose as soon as I stepped in, sharp and cold. Voices murmured, hushed but tense.

Ethan was hunched over a patient’s chart while Devon leaned over another bed, taking vitals. A pair of injured wolves, neither critical, but clearly roughed up, lay on two of the cots.

From the corner, someone whimpered. No one even looked up as I stepped inside.

I stood there like an idiot for a second, drinks in hand, before I caught Ethan moving past me.

“Ethan,” I said, keeping my voice low.

He stopped. Looked at me.

His eyes looked sunken with fatigue, but when he saw the cup in my hand, something flickered there. Something softer, something familiar.

“I brought you this.” I held the coffee out.

His fingers brushed mine as he took it, and I felt a jolt in my chest.

“Thanks,” he murmured. “Really. But I have to…there’s a patient with a torn ligament. I can’t talk right now.”

And just like that, he was gone again, disappearing behind a curtain before I could say anything. No hey , no sorry I’ve been distant , not even a see you later .

I stood there, heart sinking, staring at the space he’d just vacated. So much for that.

A shuffle of footsteps behind me made me turn. Micah stood there, backpack slung over one shoulder, eyeing the cup in my hand.

“You got me one?” Micah asked, eyes lighting up as he spotted the second cup in my hand.

I handed him the cocoa without a word. I half-expected a wisecrack, something about me groveling with overpriced coffee to win Ethan over.

But to my surprise, he didn’t say anything snarky. He just wrapped his small hands around the cup, took a long sip, and let out a pleased hum.

“You okay?” he asked after a minute, voice soft.

I blinked down at him. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

He gave a small shrug, then peeked up at me. “You look kinda sad. Like someone stomped on your heart and then kicked it into a puddle.”

I huffed a laugh despite myself. “Thanks for the image.”

He grinned around the rim of his cup. “I saw it in a cartoon once.”

Of course he did.

I turned my gaze back toward the curtained-off area where Ethan had disappeared.

The scent of herbs hung in the air, sharp and clean. My fingers tightened around my own cup, which I hadn’t even touched.

“You think I’m being dumb?” I muttered. “Standing around like this.”

Micah tilted his head, expression unusually serious for a kid his age. “No. I think you’re trying really hard. And I think Ethan knows you are.”

I swallowed, my jaw clenching. My grip loosened on the cup, and I stared down at the smear of whipped cream on the lid where my thumb had been.

“It just feels like… like I messed up. And I don’t even know how,” I mumbled.

Micah took another sip of cocoa, then said, “I don’t think he’s mad at you. He’s just really, really busy. Grandpa Maurice says being the pack healer means you don’t get a lot of naps.”

I managed a half-smile. “No kidding.”

“And now there’s lots of people getting little injuries and stuff.”

“I get that. I really do. It’s just…” I hesitated, then let the words fall out. “I miss him.”

Micah didn’t say anything for a moment. He looked up at me, thoughtful, then leaned his head briefly against my arm before pulling back.

“You don’t have to give up,” he said. “You can just try again later.”

I blinked. “That’s… oddly good advice.”

He beamed. “I’m smart. Just ask anyone.”

I let out a quiet chuckle. “Okay, Mr. Smart Guy. How are you doing?”

Micah shrugged again. “Fine. I just miss my Grandpa.” He tilted his cup to slurp the last of the cocoa, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Mom said I can go see him soon. But only if someone from the patrol comes too.”

“She’s smart to make that a rule,” I said. “That part of the woods isn’t safe right now.”

Micah nodded solemnly.

“If I’m free, I’ll come with you. Deal?” I told him.

Micah’s eyes widened. “For real?”

“For real. I’ll even bring snacks.”

“Can we get those cheese crackers from the kitchen?” Micah asked.

“Only if you promise not to eat them all in the first ten minutes,” I pointed out.

He held up his pinky. “Promise.”

We pinky-swore, because of course we did. He was still a kid, no matter how many scary things he’d seen lately.

“Thanks,” he said after a moment, voice quieter now. “For the cocoa. And for being nice.”

“Least I could do,” I told him.

We stood there a little longer. I caught a glimpse of Ethan through the curtain, his brow furrowed in concentration as he checked someone’s bandages. My chest squeezed.

“He really likes you, you know,” Micah said softly.

I glanced down at him. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “Yeah. So just go talk to him later, okay?”

“I will.”

Micah beamed, then yawned into his sleeve.

“You ready to head home soon?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Not yet. But I wanna see Grandpa tomorrow.”

“I’ll make sure you get there,” I said. “And we’ll bring extra cheese crackers just in case.”

He nodded solemnly, like this was a sacred pact.

I glanced at Ethan again, then turned and headed for the exit. Maybe I’d try again later. Maybe not. But either way, I needed some air.

I needed space to think. And more than anything, I needed Ethan to meet me halfway.