Ethans Fal (21 page)

“I’m not ready for that, Bets. I doubt I ever will be but as a sop, how about I agree to keep the door open.”

“It’s a start…I just want you to be happy.” She pauses. “Anyway…I was calling because I wanted to check if you were coming up for Luca’s Blessing in two weeks. I thought we could plan a night out. I have Grandpa on standby for babysitting. What do you think?” She lifts the mood of the conversation with the tactical change of subject.

“Sounds good…text me the details.” I yawn and stretch with a loud groan that has her chuckling.

“Late night?” she teases.

“Late morning, actually, but I’m going to go for a run…let off some steam.”

“Oh, she really got to you then?” Her subtle fishing makes me laugh out.

“Nice try, Bets, I said I would keep the door open. That’s all you’re getting.”

‘Okay…okay…I will settle for that…for now.” I hear her blow me a kiss before she says goodbye and hangs up. I’ll keep the door open just not wide enough to let anyone through.

WHY AM I
crying? Why can’t I stop crying? It’s lucky Sheila is doing this life painting mostly of my back profile or she wouldn’t have enough red paint to capture the swollen, puffy mess that is my face. The sobs have stopped but even as I lean artfully against the cool glass window looking out across the still quiet bay in Sheila’s studio, the tears fall unbidden.

“Ada, sweetie, we can do this another time, you know. It’s not so urgent, maybe you need to go home and rest. Take a day off.” She doesn’t approach and I am glad or she would see a fresh slew of sadness on my face. It’s only a small part of the problem causing the sorrow that I don’t actually have a home. I beg and borrow but I have nothing to call my own. I have nothing period, and I am worth nothing until I can find Pip. With Ethan, I had the best night since I ran away–the best sex–and for a brief moment I let myself go and felt happy. I don’t deserve to feel happy but I did. I’m not being dramatic. It’s not like I don’t think I ever deserve to be happy; what my father did wasn’t my fault. It was Cal and my father who sent me to Hell. I can blame them until I am blue in the face but until I find Pip, I don’t deserve a moment of peace and until last night I hadn’t had one.

“I’d rather work Sheila, but thank you.” She doesn’t push me and she has long since given up trying to get me to talk about myself. She gives me a tender smile and disappears behind her large canvas. I feel my body jolt but it’s numb from holding this position and doesn’t actually move. My heart on the other hand is fiercely pounding in my chest at the site of the runner on the sand. Long, strong strides eat up the shoreline, his chiseled chest reflects the rays as they break through the early morning cloud. Highlighting his exertion with a glistening sheen of sweat, even I can see from this safe distance. My mouth dries, as he pounds relentless from one end of the bay, turns, and runs back. He repeats this several times before he collapses, bent over, hands on his knees. He drops his head before he straightens and stretches. Shirtless, with lose hanging jersey shorts, he looks as stunning as the sunrise doing its best to be magnificent behind him. He shakes his shoulders, and I just stare and stare. He is the most beautiful man I have ever seen. Why did he have to ruin it–whatever
it
was–by asking stupid questions?

I would happily trade anything I have for a repeat of last night without the stupid questions. But I don’t have anything of worth. Ethan doesn’t barter for sex and what really worries me is, I feel that I would want to answer the stupid questions. Nothing is worth
that
risk. But I can look at least…there is no harm in looking. He slips his trainers off and turns to run toward the sea, repeating his gruelling regime in the water this time. When he emerges from the water, the sun takes that moment to break fully free of the cloak of clouds and bathes his body in brilliant light. Wow…just wow. It takes everything I have not to try and wriggle to press my thighs together to ease the ache that is grinding away deep inside. The beach is still empty and I think what a crime this view is going to waste. So many ugly things in this world and that picture right there is for my eyes only. I get a warm feeling prickle my skin and wrap around my body at the notion.

He has stopped midway up the beach, directly in front of the studio just a little ways back. He lifts his eyes as he drags the wet hair from his face. He looks directly at me. I jump back as if lightning struck my chest. My palm slaps firm at the impact, my heart is breaking free; I can just feel its utter panic. Sheila is instantly at my side and calms me with a light laugh and her arm across my shoulders.

“Now, that is a body I would like to more than paint!” She chuckles.

“Sheila!” I’m shocked, and laugh at the same time. “And you call your brother a dirty old man.” I nudge her.

“I would consider it my gift to the art world; nothing dirty about that.” She winks and her wicked grin continues to make me laugh as my pulse tries to regulate to something resembling less a heart attack.

“But he can’t see in; one way glass? You’re sure, I mean, because I could swear he looked right at me.” I step back to the glass but he has gone.

“Pretty sure.” She shrugs lightly, biting back her mirth and I just pray she is joking.

I feel exhausted after my library time–exhausted and depressed. I am wading through treacle trying to find leads. I don’t know any names involved other than Cal’s and when I checked for information about him out of pure frustration, I found no trace of him whatsoever. I don’t waste any more time looking for him now, not when Pip needs me. I sort of pray she doesn’t. That she is happy, loved and thriving. It kills me that I hope she has forgotten me, but I do. I know that sounds wrong but I hope she doesn’t ever remember that day, because she would’ve felt pain being taken away from the only life she knew, and I can’t bare that. So I search online. If I had a location to start I would be there but she could be anywhere. She might not even be in this country, so I am resigned to looking for my little needle in a haystack on the internet. I want to shout and scream the injustice of my father selling my child but my voice would be silenced as it was before and then I would never find Pip. This may be painfully slow but it’s the only choice I have and I won’t give up. Today I just feel the weight of the task like a yoke of sorrow on my shoulders. I can barely manage a smile at Buddy when I go get my bag for the beach.

I am even ashamed that I ignore his request to hold on while he finished with a customer. I slink out the side door, and make my way to the other beach at the far end of the town. It is quieter there, which means I might not do so well with the hair braiding or henna tatts, but there is also no surfing and no need for a life guard. I do this for a few days, lay low, head down, but when I stop for a coffee late one afternoon and see Ethan for the first time it’s clear I was needlessly avoiding his attention. He walks in with a T-shirt draped over one arm and a pretty girl on the other. He spots me and shifts his hold so that he can wrap his strong arm around her waist and pull her tight to his tanned torso. She squeals and giggles, and he silences her with a firm, purposeful kiss. My stomach rolls and tightens. I get this sickly chill flash across my skin and I actually feel sick. He looks happy; she looks happy…I should be happy. He isn’t bothering me. It’s what I wanted, to be left alone. No questions and no complications. I should be happy. No, I am happy. I got what I wanted for once, so no more moping and no more hiding.

I swap my coffee for a flavoured cider, forgoing my no drinking rule. One drink this early won’t put me in jeopardy and I can fit in a little better with the group of friends gathering in one of the booths. I walk over and slide in next to Sky. It’s her night off and she is eyeing up her next victim. An Australian, moaning about the tiny surf we have. Ethan defends our tides and tells him to come back in autumn. There is general chatter and as much as I try not to, my eyes flick over to Ethan and each time my cheeks burn a little brighter. His expression is light and genuine, happy and handsome. He even curls his mouth in a friendly flash of his brilliant smile, completely at ease, but his eyes are darker than I remember.

“Yes, but you’re the worse kind of arsehole, Ethan. Just because you are upfront about it doesn’t change that you are. It just means we can’t hate you for it.” Sky’s voice is teasing and the volume is a little loud. Ethan’s nonchalant shrug is at odds with his tightening jaw. “How many girls are hopelessly in love with you, Ethan, and what’s worse is you love them right back, me included.” She starts pointing her finger and counting heads. I shrink a little in the seat.

“I might not love you if you keep this up, Sky.” He warns, but she ignores him and keeps counting.

“I can see twelve girls in this bar alone and there’s not a one that wouldn’t kill for round two or three with you, and you know it.” She giggles and I flush so red my cheeks hurt with the burn. “But you’re all about the giving.” She sighs and fans herself. “But I doubt there is a single one of the twelve though that you’ve actually stuck your dick in, but man, that tongue…those fingers.”

“Jesus, Sky, I’m eating here!” Jake throws his burger down in disgust, he hunches, and makes suppressed vomiting sounds.

“That’s what
he
said.” Sky falls over herself in a fit of laughter but Ethan’s face is more a grimace. “Oh, lighten up, Ethan. It’s not the first time we’ve played this game; you like this game.”

“Not today, Sky. So, shut the fuck up!” He snaps and the table falls silent. He clearly doesn’t react like this normally–jaws are dropped and everyone is shifting uncomfortably. Ethan pushes up from his seat and walks to the bar. The girl he was with trots after him.

“What the fuck was that?” Sky addresses the group. “What’s got his panties in a bunch? I compliment the man for his mad oral skills and it’s like I said he’s got a tiny dick.” She nudges me. “Which he doesn’t.” The group relaxes and all laugh at her comment. Conversations pick back up, but I can’t bring myself to smile; I feel awkward having this intimate knowledge that Ethan clearly didn’t want disclosed, even if it is a joke. What I felt with Ethan wasn’t at all funny. He took me to Heaven; how he made me feel was intensely personal. It’s not a throw away bit of gossip that’s for sure. Ethan returns to the table and I can’t believe Sky picks right back up where she left off.

“So, who round the table has had the full package experience, hmmm?” Ethan narrows his eyes but she’s not looking. “Nope…nope.” Her finger counts the female heads one at a time. “Nope…nope, nope, not you, Ada.” But she hesitates and I feel all eyes on me and God, ground swallow me now. Her face falls and she narrows her eyes at Ethan with more than suspicion.

“No.” Ethan barks out and I let out the breath I was holding. No one looks doubtful, they’ve known me over a year and my only encounters where a lifetime ago in sex years to most here.

“Has there been anything good on TV recently?” I blurt out a safe topic of conversation. Sky frowns at me like I have maybe lost my mind. I don’t watch much television, even when I do have a house to watch one in. Jake takes up the conversation, talking about matches, or talent shows I am only vaguely familiar with.