Page 6

CHAPTER SIX

ASH

I ended my call and leaned back in the seat, rolling down the window to light a cigarette.

“Great, now my car is going to smell like an ashtray,” Henry complained, shooting me an annoyed glance.

“Fuck off,” I retorted, taking a long drag and closing my eyes as the nicotine settled me.

My phone buzzed, and I glanced at the screen. A text from Ethan.

My Pet

yeah we got in this morning

are you coming tonight?

A smile tugged at my lips as I balanced the cigarette between my fingers and typed back.

Me

on my way darling

are you done with classes?

“How long till we get there?” I asked Henry.

“Says two hours,” he said, nodding at the GPS.

Me

I’ll be there by five

My Pet

cool

yeah handed in my last paper this morning

I’m officially on summer break

and please refrain from calling me that while we’re here

Me

what shall I call you then?

My Pet

something appropriate for a man your age

I laughed out loud, unable to help myself.

“Texting Ethan?” Henry asked.

“Yup,” I said, taking another drag and waggling my eyebrows at him.

“Oliver’s going to be pissed,” he noted.

“He doesn’t have to know,” I replied coolly, giving him a look. “You’re not supposed to know either, so pretend you don’t know we’re texting.”

Me

I suppose I could just call you that when we’re alone together

though that’s not very appropriate for a man my age to do either

“Because you’re so subtle about it, both of you,” Henry muttered. “You really need to watch yourself this weekend, Ash.”

“I can be subtle,” I argued. “I want to take him sailing. Think I’ll manage without Oli catching on?”

Henry shrugged. “Maybe if he’s busy with wedding stuff, but just because he can’t see you doesn’t mean he won’t know something’s up if you two go sailing together. Alone.”

“We won’t be alone. You’re coming with us,” I said matter-of-factly.

He rolled his eyes. “So I can sit around and watch you drool over Ethan in a swimsuit?”

“No, so you can sit around drinking, probably with a date, while I drool over Ethan in a swimsuit.”

He snorted. “Fine. That sounds marginally better. I thought Ethan didn’t want me to know.”

“He doesn’t. There’s nothing to know anyway, other than texting and spending time together. I haven’t even kissed him,” I admitted.

Henry’s eyes widened. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

I shook my head, taking a long drag and flicking the ashes out the window. “I’m not kidding.”

I’d seen Ethan twice after our first dinner, and both times had gone the same way. I tried to keep it casual so he’d be comfortable. Whenever we got close enough, I waited for him to ask me to kiss him, but he kept refusing.

“It’s starting to get uncomfortable.”

“Like you’re getting bored?” he asked, confused.

“No, like physically uncomfortable,” I clarified. “I haven’t been with anyone since I slept with Chris almost a month ago.” I took one last drag and crushed the cigarette butt in the car’s ashtray.

Henry gaped at me. “No, no, no. Hold it right there. You can’t just say shit like that without context. That was the last time you had sex? Why?”

“He asked me not to,” I said simply.

“Hold on, hold on.” Henry waved his hand as if trying to process it. “Ethan told you not to fuck around? Ethan told you not to fuck around while not fucking you , and you’re just…going along with it?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Ethan asked me not to, and I’m patiently waiting for the green light. It doesn’t bother me. It’ll make it more appealing when he finally gives in.”

Henry groaned, throwing his head back. “I never thought I’d see the day. That kid has you wrapped around his finger.”

“No, he doesn’t,” I shot back, though the words sounded hollow even to me.

“No? You’re in a committed relationship with a kid who’s not giving it up. You’re going on dates, texting… You’ve turned into a teenager.”

“I’m not in a committed relationship,” I corrected firmly, frowning.

Henry laughed again. “Ash, this is the kind of thing you used to give Oli shit about—dating girls who withheld sex to get him to commit. Remember that?”

“It’s not the same,” I argued. “He’s not withholding sex to get me to commit. He’s just getting used to the idea. He’s never been with a man before—it’s a big adjustment,” I explained.

Henry chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s like watching your hero fall. Sebastian Langley, whipped.”

“Fuck off,” I muttered, glaring at my phone as it buzzed again.

My Pet

I don’t think there are going to be a lot of opportunities to be alone together with our families there

we could go sailing

I didn’t mean we couldn’t

just that it’ll probably be hard

I smiled to myself, the corners of my mouth twitching upward.

Me

I’ll figure something out

and I want to get you out on the boat

what kind of swimsuit do you usually wear?

“Texting your boyfriend again?” Henry teased, watching me out of the corner of his eye.

“Why don’t you mind your own fucking business for once?” I retorted.

Henry hissed dramatically, clutching his chest. “Ooh, felt the sting of that one. You must be pissed I’m right.” His loud laugh reverberated through the car.

My Pet

a normal one

and don’t even think about getting me one

I chuckled, but my smile faded as I stared at his words. Henry was right about one thing—Ethan had shifted the balance. Somehow, without even trying, he was calling the shots.

And I was letting him.

That part was new.

* * *

When we arrived at the house, the smell of roasted garlic and herbs wafted out to greet us. Ethan’s family was already gathered on the terrace with Oliver, the scene idyllic, with soft music playing and wine bottles dotting the table.

Henry had a laughing fit in the car, calling it my “meet the in-laws” moment. We had to wait a few minutes for him to compose himself before we joined them.

As we approached, I noticed Ethan’s lips twist into a smile, but he didn’t look my way. Oliver turned to greet us, his expression warm and welcoming.

“Hello, everyone,” I said, my tone polite as I stepped forward.

“These are my brothers. Sebastian, the eldest,” Oliver said, gesturing to me.

I took their mother’s hand. “Sebastian. It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Margaret, dear. It’s lovely to meet you as well,” she replied, the pale blue of her eyes strikingly familiar. I had her to thank for that.

“And Henry, our kid brother,” Oliver continued.

“You make me sound like I’m Ethan’s age,” Henry joked, shaking her hand with his usual grin.

I shook their stepdad, Thomas’s, hand and kissed Charlotte’s cheek before turning to Ethan. His expression was wary, his posture stiff.

“Ethan,” I greeted, extending my hand. My smile was impossible to suppress. He hesitated, giving me a slight shake of his head before taking my hand.

My eyes immediately caught on his wrist. The bracelet gleamed faintly in the evening light. My grin widened, but I managed to keep it subtle. He pulled his hand away quickly, his face twisting in embarrassment.

This wasn’t new to me. I was used to gift-giving as part of the ritual, but I’d never felt the thrill as strongly as seeing him wear it—seeing a piece of me on him. I had to force myself to focus as Charlotte said something, and I realized I hadn’t caught a word.

“I’m so sorry, dear. Didn’t catch that,” I said, lightly placing my hands on her shoulders.

She laughed, a soft sound that reminded me of Ethan’s. “I asked if you’d like a glass of wine. My mother had it specially shipped.”

“Yes, of course,” I replied, walking with her to the table.

I sat beside her and Oliver while Ethan positioned himself at the far end near his stepdad. He looked great, and I tried not to glance at him every five seconds—or catch a glimpse of his wrist.

Dinner passed in a blur of conversation and laughter, the wine flowing freely. I noticed Ethan barely touched his glass. He looked uneasy, a little withdrawn from the conversation, but more than anything, he seemed intent on avoiding any interaction with his mother.

I excused myself for a cigarette, hoping he’d follow, but he didn’t. The disappointment settled heavily, even as I told myself he was just being careful.

When I returned, Ethan and Henry had stepped away to smoke, sharing Ethan’s vape as they laughed easily. Watching him with my brother, his shoulders relaxed, his grin easy, sent a sharp twist through my stomach. The sight shouldn’t have bothered me—it was just Henry—but it did. Henry had a way with people that was just enviable. He made quick friends with anybody—lasting friends. I distracted myself by staring at his wrist, the bracelet standing out against his skin.

As their parents excused themselves for bed and said their goodbyes, I lingered behind Ethan. One too many glasses of wine had loosened my restraint.

He didn’t notice me at first as I approached. Careful to stay out of sight of the others, I gently touched his forearm. He tensed as I let my finger slide down his smooth skin to his wrist. My thumb grazed the bracelet before I leaned in slightly.

“Please come up to my room,” I whispered.

His head shook, barely perceptible. Disappointment settled in my chest, making that persistent ache worse. “Please,” I repeated softly, releasing his wrist and letting my fingers brush the small of his back as I stepped away.

“I have to fetch something. I’ll be right back,” I said louder, heading toward my room.

Once inside, I stood by the door, feeling like an idiot for waiting. I was sure he wouldn’t come, but my stomach dropped when the doorknob turned and Ethan peeked inside.

I managed a tight smile as he stepped in quickly, closing the door behind him.

“I had no idea which room was yours, and there’s like a million of them. You could have given me a bit more information,” Ethan complained.

I took a step toward him, and he backed up against the door, looking up at me with wide, baby-blue eyes. I pressed my palm against the door beside his head. “I’m sorry,” I breathed, glancing down at his arm. Running my hand from his shoulder to his wrist, I felt the warmth of his skin under my palm.

“What…?” he began, his voice breathless.

I closed my hand around his wrist, lifting it slightly and pressing it back against the door. He looked overwhelmed and confused, even as my touch raised goosebumps on his skin.

I knew I should pull away, but I couldn’t. I kept my eyes fixed on his wrist for a moment before letting go and stepping back.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered again, running my hands through my hair.

Ethan remained where he was, his lips parted.

“I don’t get it,” he said finally, his voice soft. “Is this like a sex thing for you?”

“No, it’s not,” I told him honestly.

He glanced down at his wrist. “Should I take it off?”

“No.” I shook my head quickly, closing the distance between us. “Don’t take it off.”

Exhaling loudly, I looked at his arm and held out my hand.

He hesitated, shoulders tensing, his posture stiff as a board.

This time, I felt the sting of his rejection and a spark of annoyance. Such a contrast from his demeanor around my brother. I wondered if I’d ever get him to come to me that freely.

I clenched my jaw and walked away, shaking my head.

“Sebastian, what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. I’m fine,” I lied, the words clipped.

I’d let Henry get to me, but he was right—I should have been in control. Ethan had taken it from me, and I had no idea how to get it back. This was ridiculous. “You can leave now.”

Ethan didn’t move. He just stood there, wide-eyed and hurt. “Are you mad at me? I don’t get it.”

I closed my eyes, pressing my lips together.

“You are mad at me.” He fumbled with the bracelet. “I’ll just take it off. I thought you’d be happy about it.”

I let out a slow breath, stepping closer again. “I’m not mad. I love that you’re wearing it,” I assured him, softening my tone. He still looked at me like a wounded animal, ready to bolt. “I’m frustrated because you keep saying no. I’m not asking you to do anything, you know that. I’m just offering my hand. Why is that such a horrible thing?”

Ethan stood there, like a deer in headlights. “It’s not. It’s just the way you ask for it. You’re a little overbearing, Sebastian—it’s like you want to tame me or something.” His words were heavy with uncertainty.

Oh .

I exhaled, my shoulders relaxing as the irritation drained away.

I needed to give him more credit. He’d probably figured it out long ago, even if he didn’t know exactly what it was.

“Will you sit with me?” I said gently. “I’ll explain. We can sit on the floor if that makes you more comfortable.”

Ethan hesitated, before nodding reluctantly. He walked slowly and sat on the carpet near the bed, legs crossed. I went back to the door, locked it, and joined him, keeping some distance.

“Why—”

“I locked it because Henry has boundary issues, and I don’t want him walking in,” I explained quickly.

Ethan stayed tense, shoulders rigid, his eyes locked on me.

Isighed, leaning back slightly to give him some space. “It’s not what you’re picturing,” I began. “I’m a dominant person. I like to be in control, and that reflects in my sex life. But it doesn’t mean I’m into forcing you.”

His body eased somewhat.

“I don’t want to tame you, Ethan,” I continued. “It’s not about extinguishing that fire in you—I like that about you. What I want is for you to let me take care of you. To trust me. To let me lead us there.”

He lowered his head, staring at his lap. “So you don’t want me to submit to you?” he asked softly. “Because that’s exactly what it feels like.”

His words sent a spark through me, one I ignored.

I tilted his chin up gently, urging him to meet my gaze. “I don’t want you to change who you are to the world.” His blue eyes searched mine, his expression guarded. “But I do like some level of submission from my partners,” I admitted carefully, trying not to scare him.

His jaw clenched. “I fucking knew it,” he said bitterly, closing his eyes and hugging his knees. His forehead rested on them, shutting down.

It wasn’t easy to watch.

“It’s not about anything harmful,” I said quickly, my voice softening. “I swear, the last thing I want is to hurt you.”

“No. You just want to own me,” he muttered.

“No, I don’t,” I countered quickly.

He rested his chin on his knee, looking at me. “So this isn’t about ownership? This isn’t you branding me?” he asked, holding up his wrist where the bracelet gleamed faintly.

I shook my head. “Not at all. Ethan, you’re free to do whatever you want. That’s why I told you I wouldn’t try anything until you asked me to. This about you making your own choices.”

“That’s why you like that I’m younger than you,” he said to himself, shaking his head. His tone wasn’t angry—it was resigned.

“No. That’s not true in the slightest,” I said firmly. “I’m not trying to take advantage of you. You have all the power here; you can do what you want.”

“You were pissed just now because I didn’t come to you the second you asked,” he said, his voice cold and sharp. “You saw the bracelet and assumed that meant I was game, and when I said no, you got angry. So no, I don’t think you actually want me to do what I want. I think you only want me to do what I want as long as you’ve told me what that is first.”

My stomach sank further. “No, that wasn’t it. I lost my temper, but it’s not like that.”

Ethan stood abruptly. “I’m not doing this. If that’s what you want from me, I’m out.”

“Ethan, wait,”I said, following him as he reached for the door.

I pressed my palm against it, keeping it shut.“Look, I know it sounds like a lot, but I wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want me to. It doesn’t get me off to force you. I told you I want you to want this, and that hasn’t changed.”

Ethan didn’t turn, his hand still on the doorknob.

“This isn’t about you losing your say. It’s about trusting that I’ll get us where we both want to go. That’s the control I want—the kind you give willingly. And I don’t expect it all the time. I want it to exist between us, in what we do together. Whether that’s in bed or something as small as wearing that bracelet. If you’re not into it, that’s fine too. I’ll deal.”

His shoulders tensed, his body caught between fight and flight.

“I want to go,” he said quietly.

“And you can,” I said softly. “I just don’t want you to run off terrified of me.”

“This whole thing with you is already too much. And now this? I can’t do it. I’m sorry, but I can’t,” he said, turning the knob and opening the door.

I stepped back, letting him leave. As the door closed behind him, I pressed my forehead against its cool surface, frustration and regret clawing at my chest.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath.

This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go.