Page 5 of Game Changer (Hidden Attractions #2)
Maya
I took my newfound freedom a tad too far tonight.
Okay, maybe a shit ton.
I’ve been sitting on the grass for what feels like an eternity because standing became too much.
Everything is spinning, and closing my eyes only makes it worse.
So now I’ve focused my gaze on the mailbox to try and gain a semblance of control again.
Drunk people litter the yard, attempting to find their way home.
This guy Daniel hasn’t left my side, and I don’t get the vibes that he’s trying to look out for me.
He’s repeatedly attempted to persuade me to let him drop me off, which I wasn’t keen on.
I’m drunk as a skunk, but not drunk enough to overlook the dangerous situation I’ve put myself in.
And now Ethan Davis is coming to get me, like a knight in shining armor.
God, I’ve really fucked up tonight, haven’t I?
I should have gone home with Destiny and Callie, but I foolishly thought I’d enjoy a couple more hours of partying. I’ve only known the girls for a few days, since we all just moved into the dorms, so I can’t blame them for leaving me. I hide my liquor well until I reach a certain point.
Needless to say, I passed that point a long time ago.
“It’s almost four,” Daniel says. “Come on, let me drive you. I’m sober.”
I clench the grass with my fingertips, needing something to tether me to this world before I pass the hell out. My brain is foggy and isn’t working correctly, and Daniel smells like stale beer and cheap cigarettes.
Why did I call Ethan? I broke his heart, but, if I’m being honest with myself, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him.
Severing the connection between us was better than continuing things only to break his heart again when my parents found out, but with him living in the room next door?
Keeping my distance is way easier said than done.
“Come on,” Daniel urges. He grabs my elbow and attempts to tug me up from the grass, making everything spin more. I place my hands on my knees and hang my head to try and get a grip when I hear another set of footsteps approach.
“I suggest you take your hands off her.” I don’t recognize the cold voice, but my world rights itself with one perfect glimpse of Ethan Davis.
The man always wears a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, which I know is because he feels self-conscious, although he has no reason to be.
Sure, he’s a little huskier than men I’ve dated, but it’s something I’ve always liked about him.
His hugs are warmer. His arms are stronger.
And right now? Ethan looks like he’s about to tackle Daniel, like he’s playing a football game.
Daniel’s wary eyes meet mine. “Is this who you called?”
“Take. Your hands. Off her,” Ethan reiterates.
I’ve never seen him like this. Who knew the soft-hearted boy could have a territorial side?
And it doesn’t make sense when I’m not his to claim, but him standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, all broody and caveman?
It has my hormones in a full-blown fit .
I decide for Daniel by shrugging my elbow out of his hand and taking a tentative step toward Ethan. The world tilts, but Ethan’s hands hold me steady. He runs his thumbs over my arms, and dips his head down to look at me. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yes. Everything is just”—I wave my hand in a circle as if that’ll explain it—“spinning.”
Daniel, who realizes he’s not getting lucky tonight, huff s a sigh of frustration and stalks back inside the frat house. Solo cups and random bits of trash litter the ground around us, and it only takes Ethan five seconds of contemplation before he hoists me into his arms.
My thighs wrap around his waist, and for a heartbeat, I allow myself to enjoy it and not ask questions. I hook my arms around his neck and gaze into his eyes. They remind me of the icy blue hue you’d find in a bonfire, filled with rage and simmering with something I can’t quite put my finger on.
“Christ, Maya. Do you know what could have happened to you?” He carries me to the sidewalk, avoiding the trash along the way, and my guilt replaces the moment between us.
“I wasn’t thinking,” I admit. My eyes feel heavy, fluttering shut as I fight to stay awake. “You don’t have to carry me. I can walk.”
“In those heels? Not a chance. I had to park a block away.” He tugs on one of the neon-pink stilettos for emphasis, and I suck in a breath at the feel of his calloused hands caressing my ankle. This was a bad idea .
A very bad idea.
“Thank you for coming to get me,” I whisper. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”
“Don’t ever apologize for that. You know I’ll always be here if you need me.
I’d rather you call me in the middle of the night than attempt to drive home drunk or find a way home with someone like that idiot back there.
” His grasp grows tighter on my thighs, keeping a respectful distance from my ass.
I almost wish he’d slide his hands up just an inch higher so he can feel the satin thong that matches my heels.
You are drunk! my subconscious snaps. A stupid, flirtatious drunk . You always have been .
Ethan’s scent surrounds me like a sensual caress. Cedarwood mixed with a hint of spice. I want to nuzzle my face into his sweatshirt and bask in this moment, and I’m so drunk that I let my forehead fall into the crook of his neck despite every warning I give myself. “You smell so good,” I groan.
His chest rumbles with a laugh. “And you are very drunk.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know you , and you’re a ridiculous flirt when you’ve had too much to drink. It’s the sign to look out for with you.”
I want to tell him that he’s wrong. Maybe I was a flirt in the past, but at every party I go to now, the only person I want to see is him.
I miss him. I miss our late-night conversations at their house when Maddie went to sleep and I had nothing better to do than stay up.
I’d join Ethan in the kitchen, and we’d have a bowl of ice cream and talk until the wee hours of the morning.
Then we fucked and everything changed. I had to choose between my parents and him, and it’ll always be them.
Instead, I say nothing, because staying silent is better than telling him I was too chickenshit to tell my parents they were wrong about him.
When we make it to his car, he tucks me into the passenger seat and reaches over to buckle me in. I want to sink my fingers into his disheveled blond hair, but I refrain and close my eyes instead.
“You okay?” he whispers.
My eyes flicker open, and time comes to a halt when Ethan’s gaze dips to my lips before slowly working back up to meet my stare.
I’m suddenly aware of how quiet it is a block away from the party.
How there isn’t a single soul on these streets to interrupt us if I was to do something incredibly stupid like make a move on him again.
Ethan doesn’t bother to wait for my answer. He breaks the tension by shutting the door and clambering into the driver’s side. My heart flutters when he passes me a bottle of water sitting in the cupholder. “You should drink this,” he says. “It’ll help.”
And for the next five minutes, I sip my water while he drums his fingertips on the steering wheel.
I shouldn’t be bothered by the silence, but our friendship was never like this.
It was teasing, flirtatious, and fun . I want to get back on common ground; I just don’t know how.
Flirting with him would send the wrong impression when we can’t ever get back to the place we were in five months ago.
The world isn’t spinning nearly as much when we make it back to my dorm room. I’m expecting Ethan to tell me goodbye, but instead, he follows me into my room and eyes the empty bed adjacent to mine. “You don’t have a roommate?”
“Not yet. Maybe she’ll get here on Monday when classes start.
” I collapse onto my bed, hair fanning out around me, and the breath stalls in my lungs when Ethan approaches and stands over me in a way that shouldn’t be as domineering as it is.
His eyes remain locked on mine as he grabs my foot and fumbles to get the strap of my heel off, then doing the same with the other.
Then he examines my dresser, his eyebrows scrunched up in an agonizingly cute way. “Where are the makeup things?”
I tilt my head to the side. “Makeup things?”
“Yeah. Those things you use to wipe off your makeup.”
“Ethan.” Is my vision blurry from the alcohol or my tears? “You don’t have to do this.”
“Please.” He scoffs, continuing to scan and remaining oblivious to the emotional reaction I’m having. “You’re a licensed cosmetologist, Maya, and you fail to realize we grew up around each other. Your skincare routine is right up there with your fascination with The Bachelor .”
That gets a laugh out of me. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for romance and glowy skin.” I point to the spot beside my lipstick case. “It’s that orange pack.”
I sit up, and after he grabs a wipe, Ethan steps between my legs and tilts my chin up.
I’m utter putty when he gently wipes my makeup off, taking his time and ensuring there’s none left behind.
He runs one last swipe over my lips, his thumb tracing the motion afterward.
My pulse skyrockets from the contact, and I’m afraid if he doesn’t step away from me right now I’m going to drag him onto this mattress with me.
“You should be good now,” he says raspingly, his voice rougher than normal. He steps away and turns for the door.
“Wait,” I blurt. “I really don’t want to ask you to do this, but I can’t reach the zipper of my dress.” I’m not lying. Destiny had to get me into the skintight number before we left together, and without her here, it’ll be hopeless trying to get out of it.
Ethan clears his throat and instructs me to turn around, and all I can think about is that night in the hot tub when I taught him how to fuck. When he surprised me by bending me over and nipping at my ass, almost like he’s wanted to do it for years.
I’m a sweltering, wet mess when he steps behind me and tugs the zipper down.
The dress falls to my feet before either of us can catch it, and although I shouldn’t, I relish the strangled noise that leaves his throat.
I’m not wearing a bra, which means the only thing he sees is my ass in a neon-pink thong.
The last thing I want is to lead him on, so I spin around and scramble to pick up the dress. Ethan juts a hand out to stop me. He does a slow, heated perusal of my exposed skin—like he didn’t get a good look before and is trying to etch it into his memory now.
Alcohol still runs through my veins, and my hormones are overpowering the logical part of my brain. Ethan stopped me from putting on the dress, though, and that awakens the flirtatious, horny part of my brain that should be shut off.
“Do you like it?” I ask.
He huff s a laugh, no sign of anger or irritation. But that’s how Ethan is. He’s too good of a guy, always thinking of others.
Too good for me.
“The thong is cute, Maya. Very you.”
There . A glimmer into the past of a friendship I longed for.
Or not a friendship, since this is definitely not what friends do, but it’s us, and I’ve missed it.
The humor. The banter. The flirting. I don’t wish we’d never slept together, because that night is something I’ll cherish forever, but do I wish things could be different?
Of course I do. If he could battle his anxiety and take a chance on himself to find what he’s passionate about, maybe then my parents would see what I see in him.
But he’s still living life by the seat of his pants, so despite my body urging me to tell him to come show me just how cute he thinks this thong is, I have to sober up, listen to my head, and be rational about this. Starting things back up with Ethan will only result in heartbreak.
“Do you need anything else before I go?” he asks.
“No,” I whisper, ignoring the way my heart clenches. “Thanks, Ethan.”
And when the door clicks shut behind him, I’m left with a nauseated feeling that has nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with how wrong it feels to be without him.