In the Raw (11 page)

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Authors: Eileen Griffin,Nikka Michaels

BOOK: In the Raw
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“No worries.” I shrugged, tired from the long day and the confusing mix of emotions hanging out with him seemed to bring. “I didn’t want to rush you because I was ready to leave.”

He stepped closer, his shoulders hunched as he reluctantly admitted, “I wanted to hang out with you. Not Summer or the guys. Just you.”

I stared at him. “What do you want from me, Ethan? Half the time I don’t know whether you hate me or want to be friends. Then you do something like defend me to my father, who incidentally thinks you’re the antichrist. Tell me what we’re doing here.”

Instead of launching into the verbal tirade I expected, a determined look crossed his face and he murmured, “Fuck it.”

He stepped closer and I tensed. As unpredictable as Ethan was, I wasn’t sure what he’d do. I let it out a surprised gasp when his mouth met mine. There was nothing gentle about it. Months of tension, fighting, flirting all igniting when he touched me. Not a romantic kiss by any means...it was bruising, rough, passionate, intense, all the same things I’d come to equate with Ethan Martin. My fingers curled in the fabric of his sweatshirt, tugging him closer as my eyes slammed shut.

Braced between the solidness of his body and the cold wall behind me, I felt my entire body heat. Ethan’s ravenous lips and desperate tongue claimed my mouth, tasting of beer and mint. He slid one hand up to cup the back of my neck, holding me captive as he braced himself against the wall. I kissed him back fiercely, our teeth knocking together with the force of it.

Sounds I didn’t even know I was capable of making left my mouth and I didn’t care we were in public where anyone could see us. I nipped his lip, sighing with pleasure when he moaned into my mouth. He might be an infuriatingly stubborn asshole at times but one thing was for certain: Ethan Martin could kiss. He broke away, breathing hard as he leaned his forehead against mine.

“Wow.” I fought for breath, a smile tugging at my lips. “For once we’re actually on the same page.” As soon as the words left my mouth, he pulled back. His expression changed from needy to terrified as he released me, his hands clenched into fists.

“Ethan?”

“I’m sorry.” He backed away, staring at my face like I’d punched him. “I’m really fucking sorry, Lassiter.”

I swallowed hard and took a deep breath, raising my hands as if I was soothing a spooked animal.

“Ethan?”

He yanked up his sweatshirt hood and took off, leaving me to stare after him in silence. What the hell had happened?

Chapter Twenty-One

Ethan

Anger warred with painful arousal as I searched for a cab. What kind of asshole walked away from a kiss like that? Sure, he was the guy I was competing against and the guy whose family represented everything I despised in our industry. But when I closed my eyes, the memory of Jamie’s lean body under all those ugly clothes as I’d shoved him against the wall replayed in my mind. The throaty moan that had rumbled out of his chest when my tongue had touched his would be on auto-play in my brain for the foreseeable future. When he bit my lip all I could think of was getting inside him as quickly as humanly possible. Public be damned.

It wasn’t just sex. When Summer had touched Jamie’s arm, protectiveness had surged through me. When she’d found out who he was, she’d had a speculative look on her face as she tried to figure out how she could best twist the situation to her advantage. After watching Jamie go toe to toe with his own father, I’d wanted to shield him from her and the instinct had taken me by surprise. I respected him, and I didn’t want his vulnerability to be another thing someone tried to cash in on. Even more? I respected him for being ballsy enough to take on his own family. I liked him. I liked him, and the thought scared the shit out of me. And then his words had shaken me out of the fog that had settled over us and I’d bolted like an idiot.

I finally found a cab two blocks away from the bar and threw myself inside with a grunt at the driver. I felt my stomach roil the entire drive home and was in complete knots by the time I got to my apartment. What in the hell had I been thinking? Too full of nervous energy to wait for the elevator, I stomped up all five flights of stairs. As I slipped the key into the lock, I let my forehead bang against the door with a thud.

Why?

I’d gotten a few beers in me and I’d lost sight of my goal to get through this last year. I let out a deep breath and banged my head against the door again, hoping I’d knock some sense into my deficient brain.

The door swung open, revealing a visibly smug Claire. “Well hello, Romeo. I didn’t expect to see you home this soon.”

When I didn’t answer, her smile quickly faded. “Please tell me for the love of everything holy you didn’t screw this up.”

I shrugged my shoulders and pushed past her without comment as she shut the door behind us.

Not accepting my silence on the matter, Claire pressed on. “So? What happened? Why do you look like someone peed in your Cheerios?”

I scrubbed a hand down my face as I leaned against the kitchen countertop. “I kissed him.”

“Okay. You kissed him, and? It was awesome? You saw rainbows and heard chirping birds and shit? What? You’re killing me with the disturbing lack of details.”

“I kissed him. Then I left him to wait for a cab,” I mumbled.

Her eyebrow climbed to her hairline. “You kissed him and then left?”

“One minute we were bowling and I was kicking his ass. The next minute we were at the bar and I was prying Summer Bennett off him. We ate, talked a little, then he left. I shouldn’t have, but I ran after him...and I kissed him.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “I kissed Golden Boy.” I groaned in frustration. “What a fucking mess.”

“Ethan, you’re so clueless sometimes.” She shook her head.

“What?” I grumbled.

“Nothing.”

“No, what do you mean?” I pushed away from the counter and moved closer to the living room.

“Do you remember when we were in school and you got a crush on Jenna Roberts?”

“I was twelve, Claire.” Where was she going with this?

“Yeah, well what I remember was one day she got boobs and all you wanted to do was chase her around and snap her training bra.”

I raised my eyebrow at her. “And?”

“You liked her. You gave her all kinds of shit...pushed her down, snapped her poor bra strap and did the twelve-year-old equivalent of the mating dance.”

“Is there a point to this story?” I snapped.

“Oh my God, you’re too pretty! You like Jamie.”

I stared at her, comprehension eluding me.

“You like him. You know. How sometimes two people like each other. Romantically.”

I blinked. “Not following you.”

“You are so whipped,” she crowed as I made a disgusted face. “You better not bang him on our couch.”

“Ugh. I cannot believe you said that.” I began walking backward out of the room with my hands over my eyes.

She laughed. “What? We have one couch and I don’t want to wear a hazmat suit every time I watch a movie.”

“Oh, hell.” I stuck my fingers in my ears and bolted for my room. Between kissing Lassiter and hearing my baby sister talk about sex, I was going to need a brain reboot soon.

I slammed the door behind me and locked it. I could still hear Claire’s words echoing in my ears as I flopped on my bed and stared up at the ceiling with frustration.

Simple sex, I could do. But I didn’t date. I didn’t do relationships. I didn’t have time for more than the simple fuck and chuck over the years but even those situations ended shitty sometimes. Case in point, Summer. Lassiter pissed me off more than anyone I’d ever met in my whole life. He had everything anyone could want. He also had no clue he was sexy, had a quirky sense of humor, was smart as hell and was a good person.

When I closed my eyes all I saw was Jamie’s face after I’d kissed him. Before he’d opened his eyes, I’d looked at him and imagined seeing him in my bed, and not just for a night. But when he’d said the thing about us being on the same page, I’d panicked. Now I was confused as hell by six feet of temptation in grandpa loafers who had turned me into a moody, introspective bastard.

I wanted Lassiter more than anyone I’d ever known. Now what did I do about it?

* * *

Once the sun came up, I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. Even a shower didn’t help. After ten minutes under the pounding spray my neck was still stiff and my head pounded. When I finally staggered from the shower, I took a good look at myself in the mirror. Bleary, bloodshot eyes ringed in dark circles stared back at me. As I pushed back my wet hair from my face, I had to admit I wasn’t exactly looking my finest.

I braced my hands against the vanity and stared at my reflection. Even though I had felt more last night with Jamie than I had with anyone else, I didn’t need any complications in my life. I didn’t have any time for fucking around, much less an actual relationship. Jamie had given me more these past few weeks than I deserved. What did I have to give in return? A bad attitude, commitment issues and a pissy temper.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as my shoulders slumped down. No. I was nothing close to what Jamie Lassiter needed.

Snap out of it
,
asshole
. I didn’t need my little sister trying to play matchmaker. I didn’t need to see Lassiter’s confused face after our kiss. I needed to focus on winning the scholarship competition.

Frustrated, I headed for my room to get dressed. I needed to focus on winning the year’s worth of paid tuition and not on some piece of ass, regardless of how much his ass turned me on. I hurriedly threw on the closest clean clothes, eager to escape another heart-to-heart conversation about my messed-up love life.

Before I left the apartment, I taped a note for Claire on the fridge, letting her know I’d be at the Institute for the rest of the day. I would get through both the competition and pastry rotation on my own even if it took all my spare time in the classroom kitchen.

I grabbed my keys and left my apartment to take back the control I’d somehow lost over my life once I’d let Jamie Lassiter into it.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jamie

As I parked my car across from Ethan and Claire’s apartment building, I replayed last night in my mind. To everyone else, Ethan Martin was the asshole who didn’t give a shit about anyone but himself and Claire. Last night he’d been the person I’d always known existed under all those rough layers—approachable, witty, charming, and sexy as hell.

And that kiss. I’d been lost to everything except his weight against me, his hand on my neck and his hungry mouth on mine. But as soon as it had begun, it was over, the terrified look he’d given me before leaving confusing as hell. Ethan wasn’t afraid of anything, right?

I’d stood outside the bar for ten minutes after he left, too stunned to move or flag down a cab. On the way home and throughout my sleepless night, I had tried to figure out why he’d left me standing there aching and alone.

A car horn blaring at me as I darted across the street startled me out of my thoughts. Distraction obviously wasn’t a good thing when it came to crossing busy streets. I tried to shake off the foggy feeling as I entered the building and stepped into the rickety old elevator. I pushed the button for the fifth floor, too weary for the stairs.

I knew I couldn’t make Ethan talk to me, but I was damn sure going to try. I exited the elevator and steeled my courage as I approached his and Claire’s apartment. After taking in a deep breath, I knocked on the door. When no one answered, I banged harder. “Ethan! It’s Jamie. We need to talk. Let me in.”

I had my fist raised again in midair when the door opened. I looked down into the eyes of a very tired Claire Martin.

“Hey, Claire. Sorry to wake you up. Is Ethan home? I need to talk to him.”

Her tired eyes softened. “He’s not here. I got up a little while ago to an empty apartment and a note from him telling me he left to do some extra work at school.” She opened the door wider and laid a hand on my arm. “Why don’t you come in? I’ve already put a pot of coffee on. Looks like it’s going to be a three-pot morning.”

I shifted nervously and hesitated. “I should get going. Can you tell him I stopped by? Maybe I’ll try to catch him at the school.”

Claire leaned forward and laid her hand on my arm. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like shit, Jamie. At least come in and have one cup of coffee.”

I sighed and smiled at her, thankful at least one of the Martin siblings would talk.

Claire turned to me when I followed her inside. “So...how badly did he screw this up?”

“What?” I swallowed uncomfortably.

She gestured for me to follow her into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee, setting it on the counter in front of me. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Jamie. You’re the last piece of chocolate cake and he’s a starving man. What did he do this time?”

“Who?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

She chuckled softly. “My oblivious dickhead brother. He can’t figure out if he wants to mount you or run away screaming.”

I let out a deep breath and rolled my eyes, embarrassed to have this conversation about Ethan with his own sister. “He bolted like someone was chasing him after he kissed me.”

She sighed.

“Jamie, my brother was the skinny teenage boy scrounging through Dumpsters and taking on jobs after school just to take care of me and our mom. After she died, it got worse and he never had time for dating or regular social life stuff. I’m not saying there wasn’t anyone along the way, but nothing real. His social skills need some serious polishing, but underneath all his bullshit and bluster he’s a good man. You know us true cooks are an antisocial lot. We focus too much on the food we often don’t see anything else outside the kitchen.”

“I know. It’s...he’s so—I can’t even put it into words.”

She laughed. “Sounds like my brother. You okay, though?”

I nodded and sat down on the bar stool across the counter from her, wishing for once I knew what to do.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Maybe. I don’t know. I’m trying to understand what’s going on here.”

“I get that. But I need to ask you a question and I need an honest answer. Do you like him?”

I swallowed hard. I’d never admitted out loud to anyone else I liked guys. But Claire didn’t stare at me like I was weird or different or wrong. She seemed to accept it like she accepted the fact Ethan might be interested in me.

Her face telegraphed surprise at my silence.

“You’ve never told anyone you’re gay, have you?”

“Not anyone who mattered.”

She smiled at me and squeezed my hand. “You like who you like. Just be who you are, okay?” She sipped her coffee then asked, “Just one thing. When are you going to man up and ask my brother out? On a real date or whatever gets you two out there on the same wavelength.”

A date? If I asked Ethan on a date he’d laugh in my face. Or make some scathing remark about bringing him flowers. I couldn’t even get him to talk about our project half the time, much less get him to agree to a date.

When I remained silent, she continued. “Jamie...you two are more alike than you think. And so clueless sometimes.” She shook her head and laughed softly. “My brother honest to God likes you. He doesn’t know what to do about it because of his ego and pride, so he’s freaking the hell out.”

I stared at her in shock. “What do you mean?”

“Jamie, he’s never looked at anyone the way he looks at you. I saw it the first day we all met. When you introduced yourself, my brother blushed embarrassingly red and played it off like he was Mr. Cool. He would never admit it to you. If you want to make this work you have to talk some sense into his dumb ass. I’ll be honest, he’s a lot of work. But you won’t find anyone more loyal and caring underneath all those layers.”

I stared down at my coffee cup, trying to digest all of Claire’s words. He wanted me? He had actual feelings and not for some one-night stand kind of thing? I didn’t want to be the next Summer, discarded as soon as he was through with me. I wanted someone who thought of me as an equal. I wanted to believe, but Claire was right. I needed to talk to Ethan himself, embarrassing conversation or not. I took one last drink of coffee and slid off my bar stool. “Did he say exactly where he would be at school?”

Claire’s eyes twinkled before she turned and pulled a sticky note off the fridge. “It says he went to use the pastry classroom kitchen to practice some recipes.”

I took the note and opened the door to leave. Claire stopped me and pulled me into a fierce hug. “Make him talk to you. If he won’t, you have my permission to kick his ass.”

I laughed and wrapped my arms around her tiny frame. “I’ll do my best.”

As I walked down the five flights of stairs to my car, I had a sense of clarity that had been eluding me these past few weeks. Ethan might still reject me. He might decide this—whatever we were doing—was too much. But one way or another, I was going to make him talk to me today. We both deserved to finally have everything out there, once and for all.

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