22. Ethan

22

ETHAN

W ithout thinking, I bolt behind Ella, singularly focused on understanding why she ran out on us. This isn't me , I tell myself as I run down the hall with nothing except a towel wrapped around my waist. I either look ridiculous or… unconventionally sexy? It doesn't matter. She does.

And right now, she's going a mile a minute—she's actually run down the stairs and out the main door. The others stare at me, completely baffled, as I give chase. No time to stand and chat.

I dart down the street, clutching the towel around my waist. The cool night air bites at my skin, but I'm too focused on Ella to care. She's running ahead, her oversized T-shirt flapping around her legs, the towel on her head slipping as she goes. Her sobs pierce the night air, and they cut right through me.

"Ella, stop!" I shout, my voice firm, but she doesn't even look back, just runs faster, her bare feet slapping against the pavement.

My legs burn as I push harder, determined to catch up. The towel slips a little, but I don't care. All that matters is reaching her, making her stop, and figuring out what's tearing her apart.

She rounds a corner, and I'm right behind her. Just as she reaches the small park at the end of the street, I finally close the gap and grab her wrist, pulling her to a stop.

"Ella, enough!" I say, my voice a low growl. "Talk to me."

"Let go, Ethan!" she cries, struggling against my grip, but I hold on, not letting her run away.

"Not until you tell me what's going on," I say, my tone leaving no room for argument. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

She stops fighting, her shoulders slumping in defeat. When she looks at me, tears are streaming down her cheeks. "Why do you even care?" she asks, her voice trembling.

I step closer, still holding her wrist but gentler now. "Because I'm a glutton for punishment, apparently," I say with a wry smile. "And because I care about you, Ella. More than you realize."

She looks away, her chest heaving with sobs. "It's all too much," she whispers, her voice barely audible.

I pull her into my arms, holding her tightly despite the towel threatening to slip. "You don't have to go through this alone," I murmur into her hair. "I'm here, whether you like it or not."

She clings to me, her tears soaking my shoulder, and I hold her tighter, wishing I could take away her pain. The moonlight casts a soft glow around us, and for a moment, it feels like we're the only two people in the world. Just us, standing in the middle of a park, holding onto each other and the promise of not being alone.

"Plus," I add with a smirk, "someone has to make sure you don't end up running through the neighborhood in just a T-shirt. That's my job."

Ella looks like she is about to protest, cry, and laugh at the same time. Goddammit, there's something about this woman that has just altered my brain chemistry.

If there's one thing that makes me uncomfortable, it's a woman crying. But standing here with this ridiculous towel around my waist, I want nothing more than to be the one stopping her tears. When did I get this cringy?

Ella's lower lip trembles.

I don't think. I just act. I pull her into a kiss, my lips crashing onto hers with a fierce urgency. She struggles at first, her fists pounding against my chest, but then she melts into me, her body softening like butter in my arms. Her lips are warm and salty from her tears, and it feels like the world narrows down to just this moment, just her.

When she finally stops fighting and kisses me back, it's like an explosion, all heat and need. I tighten my grip, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other keeping her firmly against me. The kiss deepens, and it's as if everything I've ever wanted is right here, in this connection, this feeling.

My mind races, fragments of thoughts flashing by. All those nights playing the Casanova, all the flitting from one woman to another—it all seems meaningless compared to this moment. This kiss, this woman, is real in a way nothing else has ever been.

We finally break apart, both of us gasping for breath. I rest my forehead against hers. "You're not running away from me, Ella," I say, my voice rough but tinged with a dry laugh. "Not now, not ever."

She pulls back slightly, her eyes searching mine. "I was cheated on, Ethan," she whispers, her voice cracking. "I built my life around someone who turned out to be a fraud. It hurts more than I can put into words."

With that, she pulls back. "It's stupid, isn't it?" She wrinkles her nose slightly and wipes it with a mini-trumpet-like sound on her towel. Never did I think I'd find this adorable. What black magic is this?

"What's stupid?" I try to look composed, which is no mean feat given how my heart is thundering.

"That something so ordinary could unravel a person completely? People break up all the time. People get cheated on all the time. It's supposed to be one of those inevitable things that happen when you're growing into a person."

I snort. Her eyes narrow. I realize my reaction must seem insensitive. It's hard for me. I'm not used to being there for a woman.

"No," I say, reaching out to take her hand in mine. She doesn't respond but doesn't resist, either, being content to simply let her palm rest idly in mine. "It's not stupid. It's not stupid when someone else does things intended to make you fall in love with them. It's not stupid when you give in and think that, hey, finally, here's someone I can call my own. This is a huge world filled with strangers. We are all looking for small connections, so when something big unexpectedly happens, it's not stupid to cling to it with all you've got."

Her lip trembles again. Her fingers wrap around mine.

"What's stupid is what the asshole who cheated on you did," I finish, my voice low and scornful. "He had the most special woman in the world at his beck and call. And he cheated on you ? Good God, was he blind?"

She chokes out a laugh. "I wish."

My heart aches at her confession. "Ella, you deserve so much better," I say softly, my thumb tracing her jawline. "You deserve someone who sees you, who values you. And if you'll let me, I want to be that person."

She looks at me, her eyes filled with tears but also something else—hope. "You think you can handle that?"

I chuckle dryly. "Handling you? That's the easy part. Not letting you go? That's where the real challenge is."

She laughs softly, the sound like music to my ears. "You're an idiot, Ethan."

"Yeah," I say, pulling her closer. "But I'm your idiot."

We stand there in the moonlight, holding onto each other. "I don't know if I can trust again," she admits, her voice small. "It's too hard."

I tilt her chin up, making her look at me. "I'm not asking you to trust me overnight. But let me prove it to you, one day at a time."

She looks at me, vulnerability etched in every line of her face. "And what if you break my heart?"

I give her a crooked smile. "Then I'll spend every day putting it back together. I'm not going anywhere, Ella. Not now, not ever."

Her eyes soften, and she leans into me, resting her head on my chest. I wrap my arms around her, holding her tightly. "You're a stubborn man, Ethan," she murmurs.

"Stubborn enough to know what I want," I reply, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "And that's you, Ella. Just you."

We stand there for what feels like forever, just holding each other. The night air is cool, but with her in my arms, I feel warm, complete. It's a strange feeling for someone like me, who's always kept things casual, always kept my distance.

"I'm scared," she admits, her head still down.

"So am I," I say honestly. "But we'll face it together, one step at a time."

She lifts her head and looks at me, a small, tentative smile on her lips. "One step at a time," she repeats.

I nod, feeling a sense of peace settle over me. "Yeah. And the first step is getting you home. You're not exactly dressed for a midnight run."

She laughs, a genuine, light-hearted sound. "Neither are you, Mr. Towel."

I glance down at the precariously draped towel and shrug. "Guess we make quite the pair."

Caught up as we are with each other, both of us basically jump out of our skins when Marcus's voice floats from behind. "Hello."

I turn around. Marcus, Theo, and Will are all standing there, arms crossed. I'm pretty sure they've heard everything.

But if there's one thing about our brotherhood, it's that I can make a bigger fool of myself and they'll understand.

"We want you to talk to you too, Ella," says Will, stepping forward. "If you?—"

"Guys, I really appreciate you all being here," I interrupt. "But can we have the rest of the discussion back at Marcus's place, and once I'm a little less naked?"

Ella's laugh is sweeter this time. She lets us lead her back to Marcus's place. Once we're in, I take a moment to put my clothes back on.

The others are in the living room. One of the guys has fixed Ella up with a cappuccino. The heady smells of cinnamon and dark roasted beans greets me as I enter. Ella is sitting, head down, inhaling the fumes as she sips her beverage.

She is all almond eyes and damp hair, slow smile and sweetness.

It's different. I want more. I want everything.

From the expressions on the faces of the others, they're feeling the same way.

Honestly, I'm glad. I'm glad she'll know the biggest kind of love there can be. No one will hurt her, not with four firefighters around. She's our girl.

Will is leaning against the wall, trying to look casual but failing miserably. Theo is perched on the edge of a chair, his usual calm demeanor slightly ruffled. Marcus, the man of the hour, shoots me a look. It's a question. He's asking if I'd be okay with this arrangement. Out of love is one thing, but in it?

I nod back at him. It's not just okay. It's right.

"Alright, team meeting," Marcus says, clapping his hands together. Ella looks up, startled. She blinks at Will. "What did you want to say to me?"

Will looks at Marcus.

"What's going on?" she asks again, her voice dropping. "Guys?"

"We need to make this official," Theo says, leaning forward. "We've danced around it long enough."

Will grins, pushing off the wall. "We've all talked about it, Ella. We all have feelings for you, and we all want this to work. Together."

She looks at us, her eyes wide but soft. "I know," she says quietly. "I've felt the same way. But can this really work?"

"It can," Marcus says, sitting down next to her. "If we're all in agreement and committed to making it work."

I step closer, taking her other hand. "Ella, none of us wants to step aside. We want you to be with all of us. We want to give this a real shot."

Her eyes fill with tears, and she looks at each of us in turn. "But I… What if it doesn't work?"

"We'll figure it out," Will says, coming to sit on the coffee table in front of her. "Together. We're stronger together."

"And it won't change your position as a nanny," Marcus says, his eyes searching her face. "You've more than earned your keep. Lily loves you. We'd never take away from that."

She sniffles, wiping her eyes. "You're all really okay with this? With sharing?"

"Absolutely," Theo says, his dry humor cutting through the tension. "You're worth it, Ella. Every bit of it."

Marcus leans in and kisses her forehead. "You're special, Ella. We don't want to lose you. Not any of us."

She lets out a sound between a laugh and a squeal. "You're all insane."

"Maybe," I say, squeezing her hand. "But sometimes, crazy is exactly what you need."

She takes a deep breath, looking at each of us again. "Okay," she whispers. "Let's give this a chance."

A collective sigh of relief goes through the room. Will claps his hands. "Alright, who's up for pizza? I think we deserve a celebration."

Ella laughs, the sound light and free. "You guys are unbelievable."

"Believe it, sweetheart," I say, pulling her into a hug. "We're in this together."

Marcus stands up. "Okay, ground rules. Communication is key. No one gets left out. We talk about everything."

Theo nods. "And we make time for each of us. Ella, you won't have to choose between us. We're all in this together."

Will grins. "And we spoil you rotten. That's a given."

Ella's smile grows, the tension in her shoulders easing. "I can't believe this is happening. But it feels right."

"It is right," I say firmly.

As we settle into an easy conversation, the room feels full. With Ella in the center, we're stronger together. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Ella leans against me, her head on my shoulder. "You guys really mean this, don't you?"

Marcus wraps an arm around her. "Every word. You're our girl, Ella."

Theo smirks. "And we're your guys. All four of us."

Will raises an imaginary glass. "To us. The most unconventional, badass team there is."

Ella laughs, snuggling into the warmth of our embrace. "To us."

This should be enough , I think to myself. For some reason, though, a prickle of unease runs down my spine.