Page 75 of When We Ignite

“It can only be one night, right? So let’s do that,” he insisted, leaning up and pressing his lips on mine.

I shook my head. “You’re not ready for this. Don’t force yourself to go through with something you don’t want. Maybe we’ll get to try again. If you’re still into it in a few years, maybe we’ll try again.”

“You say it like it’s so easy.”

“I don’t think it’ll be easy at all, but it’s what we’ve got.” I pressed my lips on his again, taking it in. “This is the last one, okay? Make it good,” I whispered, and his hands twisted in my hair as he kissed me back. I tried to make the most of it, kissing him as slowly as I could manage, feeling the shape of his lips against mine.

Finally, prying his hands from my hair, I took a step back, placing one last kiss on his mouth as I did.

Ethan’s gaze burned into mine. He was still angry, and it made his eyes look so fucking beautiful.

Ethan shook his head. “I should have stayed away from you.”

He didn’t even bother with goodbye, just turned and walked out of the apartment.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

ETHAN

It had been three weeks since I last saw him—two weeks, six days, and eighteen hours, to be exact. Sebastian had tried calling and texting, but I’d ignored every attempt. No gifts this time, no stealthy maneuvers through Henry either. After I’d asked for time to process, all contact stopped. I hated how well he listened this time.

My days had been a blur of forced tennis matches and summer parties. Even though I was technically a free agent, I couldn’t bring myself to even look at anybody else.

Oliver and Charlotte had some wedding-related event—a shower or something equally baffling to me. Still, they expected my attendance, which meant facing Sebastian again. There was no more running from this.

The event was at the Core Club in Midtown Manhattan. It was one of Oliver’s usual haunts, and Charlotte had recently become a member too. As I walked in and headed toward the rooftop terrace, I tried to steady my nerves. The elevator chimed, and when the doors slid open, soft ambient music greeted me. The sun was dipping low, painting the sky in muted shades of orange and pink.

Henry spotted me first. Peering over the rim of his sunglasses, he grinned and grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing server. Sauntering toward me, he handed it to me.

“Is that you, young Ethan? I barely recognize you,” he teased, his tone light and mocking.

Grateful for the distraction, I accepted the glass and took a long sip. “It’s not that different,” I argued, running a hand self-consciously through my hair.

“It’s short,” he pointed out with a smirk.

“Shorter, not short,” I corrected, glancing around the terrace. My eyes skimmed the crowd, but I couldn’t see the tables yet.

“Short,” he insisted, his grin widening. “Ash isn’t going to like that.”

I scowled. “That’s not my problem.”

Henry chuckled, shrugging theatrically. “Just telling it like it is. Come on, let’s go in.”

I hesitated at the entrance. “Is he already here?”

Henry nodded, and my stomach sank. Of course, he was already here. I had hoped work would keep him away longer.

“Just rip off the Band-Aid,” Henry said, nudging me forward with a hand on the small of my back.

When I didn’t move fast enough, he applied more pressure, steering me toward the terrace. I tilted the champagne back, downing half of it in one gulp before committing to stepping outside.

I heard his laugh before I saw him. It wasn’t his real laugh—the one that made his eyes crinkle. This one was polite, measured. Then my eyes found him. Sebastian sat at Oliver’s right, a cigarette dangling from his fingers and a glass of whiskey cradled in his other hand. He wore stylish sunglasses and a crisp white linen blazer, looking effortlessly elegant as always.

“E, come sit here,” Charlotte called, waving me over.

I forced a deep breath and attempted to arrange my face into something resembling a smile. His gaze followed her voice, landing on me. His eyebrows rose briefly before his smile faltered.

“Sorry, what?” Sebastian said, clearing his throat. His attention drifted back to Oliver.