Leveling The Field (Gamers #4) (9 page)

She opened the door and walked out.

Chapter Eleven

Ethan stared at his mantle, at the pictures he kept there to torture himself, with Lissa’s words ringing in his head. It took gargantuan effort to tear himself away from his own misery to think about what she said.

Yes, his initial attraction to Lissa had been all physical. But she made him laugh. He enjoyed her company and listening to her talk. And she was so beautiful when she was focused on her work, like that day in the park.

Would it kill him to let her in? Just a little? It was his
mental defect that had been the reason they’d parted ways poorly at the park.

He could head down his hallway and make himself a cocoon on his bed for days. Or he could see if there was any way Lissa could ease some of the pain he’d been carrying for years.

We could have dulled each others’ pain.

What was hiding behind her large smile and warm eyes? What kind of pain had she known? The sound of her car starting outside tore him out of his thoughts, and before he could stop himself, he ran out of the house, leaping down the stairs of his front porch and toward Lissa’s car. Her head was down, most likely changing gears so she could back out of his driveway and leave him.

Like he’d told her to do. He was such an asshole.

The headlights blinding him, he slammed his hands down on the hood of her car, and her head jerked up. He couldn’t see her expression well, so he waited to see if the car would move. He wasn’t sure how long they stared at each other before her arm lowered and the car shut off.

By the time his eyes adjusted to the dark again, she stood in the open doorway of her car.

She didn’t say one word. And it wasn’t because she didn’t have words. It was because it was his turn to talk. To explain. He knew that.

He curled his hands into fists where they still rested on her hood. He held her gaze, even though he wanted to look away, then he gave her the sole reason he was scarred and pissed off and alone. “I killed my sister.”

She didn’t move. Her jaw twitched like she meant to say something, then she shook her head and walked toward him. She reached out, tugged on one of his hands, threaded her fingers through it, and led him back into the house.

He followed her, thankful she hadn’t left. That those four words hadn’t sent her running for the hills.

He’d left the front door open in his wake, and she walked inside, once again placing her camera back on the hook inside the closet door, along with her purse. In the living room, she pushed on his shoulders until he sat on the couch, then she handed him his wineglass and picked up hers.

The whole time, his mind spun as he tried to read her expression. Lissa was expressive, but right now, she was frustratingly blank.

When she sat beside him and placed a hand on his knee, she nodded.

That was his cue to talk. He thought for a split second about backing out, but it was too late. So he licked his lips and spilled his guts. “I had a lot of money when I was commentating video games. One of the things I bought was a flashy car. I was showing off, with my sister in the passenger seat, and I lost control. We crashed. She didn’t survive, and I emerged like this.” He gestured toward his face and neck. “Sure, I’m vain, and the scars bother me sometimes, but mostly it’s what they represent. They are an everyday reminder that because of me, my sister is no longer here. I took her from our other sister, from her parents, from her family and friends. Everyone loved Samantha. And because of me, we’re all without her.” He shook his head. “And don’t tell me, ‘oh it was an accident, it wasn’t your fault’ or any of that other well-meaning bullshit. Because I know it all, and it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t. I caused her death, and everyone knows it. But most of all me.”

He ran out of steam and let his head fall back on the couch. He rolled it to the side to see if Lissa was horrified or sympathetic. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see either reaction. He didn’t even want to be having this conversation.

She stood up and walked to the mantel, then picked up the photo of him, Samantha, and Chloe. “Which one is Samantha?”

“The one on the right,” he said, closing his eyes. He could recount that picture completely from memory, the way her hair was blown out to one side in the breeze. The hole in her jeans on her right knee.

“She was very pretty,” Lissa said. “And that smile… She looks like someone I would have been friends with.”

He opened his eyes to see her gazing at the picture with affection. “She would have liked you a lot. And you would have liked her.”

She placed the picture back on the mantel and turned to look at him, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the wall. “So what does this have to do with what happened at the park?”

“You were looking at my scars,” he said. “And all I could think about was that I couldn’t give you more. I wasn’t capable of it. I’ve spent my life since the accident avoiding people and…avoiding everything, really. I’m either here, or with my other sister, or at work. I didn’t want to have this conversation.”

She cocked her head. “And now that we’re having it, how do you feel?”

He smiled a little at that. “Okay, I guess.”

“I mean, you’re still breathing. No heart attack. Blood still pumping. It’s amazing what we’re capable of.”

If anyone else had said that to him, he would have told them to fuck off. But she wasn’t mocking. She was watching him like she understood. Like she knew how much this was taking out of him. “Where are your scars?” he asked softly.

She bit her lip and looked away before meeting his eyes again. “My scar is in Willow Park Cemetery, and it’s in the shape of a headstone for my sister.”

He sat up and braced his forearms on his knees, waiting for her to keep talking.

She ran her hand up and down one thigh, the sound of her nails catching on the denim rhythmic. “So, my sister was in a one-car accident. Rona was coming home late from class and fell asleep. The accident left her with burn scars similar to yours, but she was never the same. The accident triggered something, and we all missed a lot of warning signs. She, um, killed herself a couple of years ago.”

His heart plummeted. “Oh, Lissa, I’m so sorry.”

She met his gaze directly. “Thanks. I am, too.” She took a step toward him. “You’re not the only one with guilt. I didn’t cause her accident, but I didn’t take care of her afterward. I didn’t pay enough attention, and I missed everything. I wasn’t there for my sister when she needed me the most, and now she’s not here.”

He stared at his hands as he twisted them. “I don’t know how to make this guilt go away. I tried at first but then I decided I’d have to learn to live with it. But it’s killing me slowly.” He hadn’t admitted that to anyone before, not even Chloe. Not even himself.

There was a rustle of clothes and then Lissa was on her knees in front of him, peering up into his face. She reached out slowly and brushed back the hair that had fallen off his forehead. “I think…we have to forgive ourselves. But damn if I haven’t figured out how to do that.”

He smiled, although it felt wobbly. “Yeah, I don’t have the golden ticket for that.”

“Does it help that I tell you I understand? I know our situations aren’t the same, but—”

He shook his head. “They’re not, but it does help. This isn’t the conversation I expected to have, or wanted to have, but it might be the conversation I needed. What about you?”

“I hate that you had to go through what you did, and that you still face it every day, but yeah, talking about this has helped.”

He reached out and drew her further into the V of his legs. She braced her hands on his thighs and peered up into his face as he rubbed a thumb along her jaw. “Will you stay tonight? I don’t know…I don’t know what I can promise. I’m pretty fucked up, Lissa. But I can promise tonight.”

She didn’t even hesitate before she nodded. “Yes, I’ll stay.”

…

By the time they made it to the bedroom, fused at th
e mouth, the slow pace of the evening had morphed into something frenzied.

It was like after a controlled conversation where they were forced to humanize themselves to each other, now all they wanted was to get out a pure animal lust.

Lissa still couldn’t believe Ethan had followed her outside. She’d sworn that was the end of it all, but then he’d flown out of his house like a blue-eyed bat and stood like a statue in front of her car.

And his aching voice saying the words—
I killed my sister—
would stick with her forever.

But she’d dwell on that another time, because right now, Ethan was unbuttoning her jeans and slipping his hands down the back of them to palm her ass. He tugged her to him, and she smashed against him with a grunt, her fingernails digging into his skin, since he’d already shed his shirt.

She tilted her head back as his lips coasted down her neck, nipping along the way. He tugged her shirt off her shoulder, and his lips felt so good she didn’t even protest that he was stretching it out.

She reached down and palmed the bulge in his sweatpants. “This for me?” she asked as he leaned back to pull her shirt over her head.

“What do you think?” he growled, focusing his attention on her breasts.

She gasped as he unsnapped her bra and the cool air hit her hard nipples. “I think I’ve been a good girl, and this is for me.”

He smiled then, a devilishly wicked smile. “Good answer.”

He shoved her gently, and she fell back onto the bed. He took off her shoes, kissing the inside of her ankles, then slid her jeans down her hips and off onto the floor. His hands skimmed over her knees, up her thighs, his eyes bright as he took in her nearly naked body.

She squirmed under his touch as his thumbs skimmed the edges of her panties. He stared up at her, a challenge in his eyes as he slid her underwear down her legs, and then slowly, one-by-one, he lifted her legs onto his shoulders as he knelt beside the bed. His gaze was between her legs now, and she sucked in a breath as he slid a finger down her wet flesh. He rubbed it over her opening, back and forth over her clit, as she gasped, rising up onto her elbows to watch what he was doing. “Are you going to put your mouth on me, or just look at it?” she asked.

He smiled. “You want my mouth?”

“I want your tongue on my clit and your fingers inside me, that’s what I want. And after that, I want you to take off those tempting sweatpants, get your cock out, and fuck me.”

He grinned and laughed. “There’s no one like you, you know that?”

She shuddered as he circled her opening. “I know; I have a dirty mouth.”

He leaned down and blew a stream of cold air on her clit. “Hmmm, yeah it is dirty, but I like it.”

He flattened his tongue and ran it over her in one long, slow lick. She let her head fall back as he worked her over with his tongue, spearing it into her, then pulling back to swirl it over her clit. He held her open with his thumbs, and just when she was about to holler about needing to be filled, he shoved two fingers inside of her.

She cried out. Loudly. So loud that he jerked up, eyes wide. “Damn, I’m glad my neighbors aren’t close.”

“No talking,” she panted as he thrust his fingers in and out. “Your mouth should not be talking right now, it should be doing things that will make me come.” He bit her inner thigh and she yelped, which turned into laughter. “Fuck, okay I’m sorry.”

“Bossy,” he muttered, but then he did as she asked and his mouth was back on her and his fingers were working her inside and fuck this was heaven. She ran her hands through his dark hair as he worked her open. When he crooked his fingers and found something inside of her, her orgasm rocketed through her with no warning. None at all. She couldn’t even warn him as she ground onto his face, noises leaving her throat as she collapsed onto her back, unable to continue supporting herself.

“Oh my God,” she moaned, unable to move as Ethan arranged her limbs lengthwise on the bed. A condom wrapper crinkled, and then he was between her legs, notching his cock at her entrance and then shoving home in one thrust. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, her face in his neck, as he fucked her.

“I’m not going to last long,” he said in her ear. “Not when you looked like a fucking queen coming on my mouth. Not when I can still taste you on my tongue. And I already want more.”

She reached down and squeezed his ass, his words doing something to heal her heart. She wanted to do the same for him.

“Best I ever had.” She told the truth. “I knew you could work that cock of yours, but now that I know you can do the same with your finger and tongue, I might never let you out of this bed.”

His hips stuttered, and with a soft groan, he came.

She wanted to say,
I love how you treat my body, but will you treat my heart the same?
Instead, she closed her eyes and held him close.

Chapter Twelve

At rest, Ethan looked years younger. It was apparent, now, how much t
ension he carried around every waking minute of the day. Because asleep, his skin was smooth, his mouth no longer set in a grim line.

His lips were curled slightly, his hands clutching the pillow she’d slept on. She thought about last night, when she’d detangled herself from his embrace to retrieve her silk headscarf she always kept in her purse. His eyes were open when she’d come back to bed with the floral fabric wrapped around her hair to protect it. She’d wondered if he’d make a comment, because her spare scarf wasn’t exactly glamorous. But he’d smiled and gently swiped his fingers along the material above her ear, then he’d closed his eyes and was asleep again in seconds.

Watching him as he slept in this morning, she rubbed her chest at the ache there, thinking that this could be the Ethan everyone saw, if only he let go of the guilt. If only he saw himself the way she saw him.

Carefully, she padded from the bedroom, retrieved her camera from the hall closet, and tip-toed back. He hadn’t moved an inch. She dug her camera out of her bag and fiddled around with the settings before holding it up to her face and squinting in the viewfinder.

This was where Lissa was most comfortable. This was how she communicated, through her pictures. This would be how she showed him he deserved happiness. She clicked a couple of pictures of his sleeping form and then paused, waiting for him to wake up. His nose twitched, and she covered her mouth to stifle a laugh as he settled again.

She held out her hand above him and snapped some photos blind for another angle. She took all kinds of shots all around the room in different light. When her shutter fell silent, she breathed deeply. Then she packed up her camera and put it back in the hall closet. She’d go home, study and edit them, and show him the best pictures of himself. She wasn’t sure he’d appreciate waking up to a camera ambush.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to remove her scarf, she walked back into the bedroom to see ice-blue eyes open and alert. He hadn’t moved, but he tracked her as she crossed the room and climbed into bed beside him.

His body was like a furnace, especially when he wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her against him.

He hadn’t spoken yet, so she didn’t speak, either, instead allowing him to cocoon her in the warmth of his body and the sheets. They were both still naked from the night before, and while watching his eyes for a flinch, she ran her fingers over the scars along his neck and shoulder. He didn’t move at all, and as she went lower, her palms sliding on unmarked skin, she saw he was hard.

She wrapped her hands around it and stroked. His hips jerked, and his lips parted.

“Do you want me to take care of this?” she asked, skimming her lips over his jaw. He opened his mouth as if to talk, but instead nodded. She stroked him again and then stopped. “I will if you agree to go out to breakfast with me.”

He immediately frowned and his eyes blazed. She already missed his peaceful expression. “Excuse me?”

“Breakfast, then video games.”

His frown grew deeper until it was a mammoth groove in his forehead. “Are you blackmailing me?”

She didn’t want to hole up in his apartment, which he’d said he’d been doing for years. She wanted him to get out and enjoy life. “Yes, I am.”

“You are an evil witch.” She let go of his cock, and he groaned. “No…”

“Then promise me we can go out for sausage gravy and biscuits.”

He made a face of disgust. “No.”

“No?”

“I will not eat that. I’ll order something proper, like an omelet.”

She grinned and wrapped her fingers around his shaft again then nuzzled her nose into his neck. “So is that a yes?”

“It’s a yes,” he mumbled as his hand skimmed her naked hip. “No changing the terms on me. Breakfast, then video games.”

She pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the skin of his neck, where it was scarred. He didn’t even notice, because she was stroking him at the same time. “Okay,” she whispered.

With a stretch, she reached for a condom from his bedside table, opening the package, and then rolled it down his cock. He was breathing hard, his abs flexing as he lay on his back and watched her.

She rose up onto her knees, straddled him, and slowly sheathed him with herself. His eyes fell closed on a moan as she sat fully onto him. His hands fluttered at her hips before settling at her thighs, his thumbs digging into her skin. “Lissa.”

She bit her lip, because even though they’d had sex last night, he was still a lot to handle, especially in this position. But damn he felt good, and he felt even better as she began to rock her hips.

He watched her with his lips parted, eyes half lidded. “So beautiful.”

She braced herself on his chest and ground onto him harder. She could change the angle in this position, so the head of his cock hit her just right. He helped, too, as his thumbs drifted between her legs and rubbed her clit. She wondered what she looked like.

When she came, he wasn’t far behind, and he rolled them gently onto their sides before pulling out and disposing of the condom.

She reached up and brushed his hair out of his eyes, and he greeted her action with a small smile. “I don’t know if this is good for me.”

“If what’s good for you?”

“Getting used to this. Last night and this morning have been some of the best I’ve had in years. When are you going to realize there is a man out there for you who smiles more and laughs all the time and enjoys going out in public?”

Oh, be still her heart. She shook her head. “Maybe that’s not what I want.” He scoffed, but she wasn’t done. “No, you don’t get to tell me what I want and what I don’t want. First of all, I haven’t had the desire to spend time with anyone in a while. I live with my brother, and I work, and I’m happy with that. I’m fine being alone. So you have to understand that I’m choosing to be with you. Every time we’ve seen each other, I never felt like I couldn’t say no. You’ve respected me then, so respect me now to know that I have my own mind. If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t fucking be here.” When she was finished, she was breathing hard and that was definitely a rant she’d gone on. She winced, hoping Ethan didn’t take offense, but instead, after a brief pause, where he did nothing but blink at her, he smiled. A large, E-Rad-reminiscent smile.

He pressed a kiss to her lips. “I don’t believe in fate or any of that bullshit, but, Lissa, you were sent to me for some reason. Most people take a look at my scars and my scowls and they placate me. You don’t do that. You tell me the truth, and you don’t sugarcoat, and fuck, but you’re a breath of fresh air.”

She ducked her head, her cheeks heating. “There’ve been men who didn’t like my honesty or bluntness. Or bossiness.”

He cupped her cheek, his expression tender. “Those weren’t men. Those were boys, and they didn’t know what a gem you are.”

Tears threatened, but she blinked them back. What if she or someone had said that to Rona. Would she still be alive today? Pushing back the stab of guilt, she rose up on an elbow. “Okay, so you ready for your breakfast now?”

He hesitated for a second, still studying her face, then nodded. “Sure, let’s get on with it.

…

Ethan stared at Lissa’s plate, which was covered with an off-white goopy mess. “That looks like someone ate a steak and
drank a gallon of milk and then vomited it up onto a plate.”

She paused with the fork halfway to her mouth, then she dropped it back down and pointed a finger at him. “You will not ruin this breakfast for me. You’re just jealous because you ordered a whole plate of bland.”

“It does not taste bland.”

“It’s an egg white omelet! Who eats stuff like that?”

He shoved a forkful in his mouth and mumbled, “Me.”

She raised an eyebrow then picked up her utensil and resumed eating. She made an exaggerated moaning sound as she chewed. He shook his head, unable to hide his smile.

“You want some?” she asked.

“What
is
it?”

She huffed out a breath. “How can you live in Pennsylvania and not have had sausage gravy and biscuits?”

“Probably because it looks like vomit.”

“Quit saying that.”

He pressed his lips together.

“So it’s gravy with bits of sausage in it and they pour it over biscuits. I like it with a lot of pepper.”

He took a sip of his coffee. “I like it on your plate and not mine.”

She laughed, the sound of it warming him more than coffee ever could. “Fine, be like that. I’m just happy you’re here.”

He leaned forward and cleared his throat. “Me, too.”

She smiled and dug back in to her plate.

He was happy, too. After the night they had, where he’d spilled his guts, he hadn’t expected this to be the outcome. Them laughing over breakfast after several rounds of really good sex.

Despite the loss of her sister, Lissa was full of life, and patient, and so brutally honest he finally stopped guessing if she had ulterior motives. She actually wanted to spend time with his grumpy ass.

Part of him knew what she was doing—getting him to get out of the house. He’d told her he rarely ventured out. But while it irritated him when Grant did it and concerned him when Chloe did it—when Lissa did it…he appreciated it just a little. That might not have been fair to Grant and Chloe, but he couldn’t help how he felt.

Lissa did it for him. In bed and out. He wouldn’t have passed up seeing her face light up as she ate her breakfast or her polite smile while she thanked their waitress.

It felt natural to come out to breakfast with her. He’d expected to be so ill at ease he couldn’t eat, but he’d managed to scrape his plate and was now on his second cup of coffee.

When Lissa pushed her mostly empty plate away and rubbed her stomach, he laughed softly. “Had enough?”

“Oh, I’m going to need to do some extra cardio after that meal.”

He tapped his chin with a finger. “Hmm, I happen to know a really great cardio plan.”

She hesitated then lifted a corner of her mouth. “Oh yeah?”

“It involves no clothes and typically some sort of penetration.”

She sputtered. “I knew that was coming, and it still made me laugh.”

“Well, there aren’t many where that came from, so don’t get used to it.”

She rolled her eyes and took a sip from her coffee mug. She set it on the table and wrapped her hands around it, then tapped a ring on her right hand on the ceramic. “So, what’s your sister like?”

The unspoken, “the one who’s still alive” hung in the air between them.

Ethan swallowed and debated whether he wanted to talk about this. Lissa didn’t give him an out, didn’t say, “Only if you want to talk.” She stared at him steadily and waited. He blew out a breath. “Her name’s Chloe. She’s a software debugger, which means she pokes holes in the software security so companies know where the problems are. She’s really smart and has the biggest heart. She’s engaged to Grant, whom you met.” She nodded. “And she’s very, very happy. And that’s all I ever wanted for her, was to be happy. She took the death of Samantha hard, like we all did. My parents and I had a falling out, and Chloe put a lot of that on her shoulders, thinking she needed to get us all back together.” He shook his head. “But that’s not her responsibility, to keep our family together. It was blasted apart, and I don’t think it will ever be put back together the way it was.”

Lissa hadn’t taken her eyes off him. “Of course it won’t be put back together the way it was. There’s a piece missing. It’s all about finding a new normal. A new way to talk to one another and understand triggers.”

Lissa had a way of speaking that didn’t make Ethan bristle. Her words weren’t a lecture; they were a shared experience. He shifted in his seat and cocked his head. “How so?”

She blinked, as if she hadn’t expected him to respond favorably. “After Rona died, we all blamed ourselves, I think. When she was alive, we all thought the other was watching her, and in the end, none of us had been giving her what she needed. We didn’t want to make the same mistake twice. We didn’t want to let one another down, so we closed ranks.” She broke for a sip of coffee. Her hands trembled slightly as she placed the mug back on the table. “We were all hurting and it wasn’t easy, but we made sure we spoke. We stayed honest with one another about how we felt. My brother and I moved in together. We were both between leases, so it worked out. We see my parents every week for dinner. It’s not always easy, but we’re committed.” She gazed at him. “What happened between you and your parents?”

He swallowed, the thought of his parents causing a flare of pain between his eyes like it always did. “I blamed myself, and they blamed me, too. Instead of working on the relationship, I shoved them away further. I think…I think it’s mostly my fault, the chasm that’s there now. And at this point, I’m not sure it’s fixable.”

“Do you want to fix it?”

“Of course. My parents have flaws, like everyone, but they are good parents. And they don’t deserve this broken family. That I caused.”

She shook her head. “I’ll tell you now, they’re not going to forgive you until you forgive yourself. I believe that with all my heart. If you come to them like this, they’ll see you exactly how you see yourself, and I’m sure that will be painful to them. They lost a daughter, and now they lost you. You see that, right?”

He did, but it was easier said than done. He rubbed his forehead, trying to soothe away throbbing pain. Dredging up all of this was exhausting. It was why he avoided talking about it and why he hadn’t gone to therapy.

Lissa reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I think that was enough deep thought for the morning, don’t you?”

He was grateful for her perception. He cleared his throat and clasped his hands on the table in front of him. “Yeah, I, uh, think I need to shoot some things on screen now.”

She laughed. “Video games it is then.”