Page 4 of Ethan (Pecan Pines #7)

Which wasn’t a no.

I nodded, unable to hide the grin tugging at my mouth. “Cool. Yeah. Okay. You think about it.”

He turned and walked back down the hall toward a storage room, coffee in one hand, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe I existed.

But he hadn’t said no, and that was something.

“Let’s start over.” Those were the first words out of Griffin’s mouth when I stepped onto the training yard that morning.

He stood in the center of the open space, arms crossed, the morning light catching on the lean muscle of his arms. His voice wasn’t smug or condescending. Just calm. Measured.

Like yesterday’s scuffle hadn’t ended with me almost bleeding out on the hallway floor.

I looked down at his outstretched hand. Suspicious, cautious. Old instincts itched under my skin. Thornebane instincts that didn’t trust easily, especially not when a hand looked too friendly.

Still, I reached out and shook it. His grip was firm. Not crushing. Just enough to say we don’t have to keep hating each other .

“Alright,” he said, stepping back. “We’ll start with warm-ups. Let’s see what kind of shape you’re in.”

I followed his lead. Lunges, stretches, footwork drills. My body protested every movement. Yesterday’s fight left my ribs sore, and the night’s restless sleep hadn’t helped.

Still, I gritted my teeth and pushed through.

Back in Thornebane, training meant being thrown to the wolves. Literally. They believed pain was a teacher and cruelty a motivator.

You either learned to fight or got left behind. Drown or claw your way out. But Griffin wasn’t like that. Despite our bad start yesterday, I could tell that he was holding back.

Not patronizing, but cautious. His strikes were controlled. He adjusted his movements when I winced, careful not to aggravate my bruised side.

I didn’t know what to make of that. Part of me expected him to try and humiliate me again. Maybe he still would. But so far? He was decent.

“You’ve got power,” he said as we circled each other. “You just burn too hot.”

“Gee. Thanks,” I mumbled.

He smirked and lunged. I blocked, countered, and almost landed a hit. The momentum carried us through a few more fast-paced exchanges, and something started to click.

Maybe I could actually learn something from this guy. But then it hit me. That scent.

Soft pine. Rain-washed stone. Sweetness that made my pulse stutter.

I froze for half a second. Just long enough.

Griffin swept my legs out from under me and I hit the ground hard, dust rising around me in a humiliating puff.

He stepped back, arms loose at his sides, breathing only slightly heavier than usual.

“What happened there?” he asked, brows drawing together. “You were doing well. Then you just checked out.”

I sat up, scowling, rubbing at my shoulder. “Nothing. Mind your business.”

But I already knew. My head whipped toward the edge of the yard, and there he was. Ethan.

Leaning against a wooden post, arms crossed, looking annoyingly good. His eyes found mine, and just like that, the ache in my ribs had company.

“What are you doing here?” I blurted.

He raised one brow. “I came to check on you two.”

My gaze cut to Griffin. They exchanged a look, familiar and easy. Jealousy slammed through me like a sucker punch.

Griffin grinned. “We’re doing well. Hot-head here’s remarkably well-behaved today.”

“Not bad,” Ethan said, smirking faintly. “Shows promise.”

“I’m right here,” I snapped.

Ethan’s smirk widened, and damn him, it looked good on him.

“Well, that’s good to hear,” he said, already turning to leave. “Don’t get yourself knocked out again, Dean.”

And just like that, he was gone. I stared after him, pulse still pounding. The silence stretched until Griffin moved again, casual, unbothered.

“You like him,” Griffin pointed out.

I scoffed, grabbing my water bottle. “Didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to,” Griffin said with a shrug.

I sat in the dirt, wiping sweat from my forehead. My curiosity got the better of me. “Is there something between you and Ethan?”

Griffin raised an eyebrow. “We were neighbors. I’ve known him since I was a kid.”

That stung. He didn’t say no. He didn’t say yes either, but the way he said we know each other quite well felt like a fist to the ribs.

“Training’s done for the day,” he added, already turning to walk back toward the main house. “Not bad, Thornebane.”

I didn’t respond. I just stood, gathered my things, and headed to the dining hall.

By the time I got there, my shirt stuck to my back with sweat, and I was starving. The scent of roasted meat, bread, and something spiced greeted me as I stepped in.

The room went quiet for a beat too long. Some of the wolves gave me wide berth. Others watched me with open curiosity. I ignored them all. Let them stare.

I grabbed a sandwich and a bottle of water and found an empty table near the back. Just as I sat down and unwrapped the sandwich, my phone buzzed.

Carter. Of course.

I sighed and answered. “What, checking to make sure I haven’t burned the place down yet?”

“Have you?” Carter asked, amusement heavy in his voice. “Killed anyone by accident?”

“Har har,” I muttered. “You should really have more faith in me.”

Carter was quiet for a moment. “How are you doing. Really?”

The sarcasm melted out of me.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, picking at the corner of my sandwich. “It’s weird. People are different here. The way they train. The way they talk to each other. It’s not what I’m used to.”

“Different doesn’t mean bad,” Carter remarked.

“No,” I said, staring at the condensation on my water bottle. “It doesn’t. I’m just not sure I fit in here.”

I hesitated. Then said it before I could chicken out. “But I want to.”

I thought of Ethan. His voice, his hands, the way he scowled like he couldn’t help but care.

“I want to stay,” I said, more quietly now.

Carter didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then, softly, “Good.”

I blinked. “Good?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I hoped you would. You deserve better, Dean. Maybe this place… maybe it could be it.”

I didn’t say anything. Didn’t trust myself to, because I really hoped that too.