Oh, hell. Ethan glanced at her profile and took in the shadows under her eyes. He knew she needed some recovery time and all of a sudden so did he—but it wasn’t physical rest he needed, more mental and emotional. He didn’t know what to think about anything any more.
‘I should probably get going.’ Contrarily, he instantly hoped she’d tell him to stay.
‘Okay.’ She nodded and kept focusing hard on the screen. ‘My flatmate gets back tonight, and we’ve got a big catch-up planned.’
‘Yeah, of course,’ he said, battling disappointment and failing. He glanced briefly at the message she was reading.
Do you think weakness can be inherited? Because I’m worried it can. For years my mum stayed with my dad, even though he cheated on her. I swore I’d never be like her—stupid enough to put up with it. But here I am and my boyfriend has cheated on me and I don’t want him to leave—
Ethan pushed away from the table, found his clothes, and went to her bedroom. He didn’t want to know what Nadia’s response to that one would be. Did being the son of a slimeball make you a slimeball too?
‘Ethan?’ Nadia stood in the doorway.
Ethan bent and pulled on his shoes, concentrating on his laces. ‘My dad cheated on my mum all the time. Eventually he ran off with one of his “assistants”. Then he cheated on her too. Every relationship he has, ends with him cheating. But Jess has married, and Tom is the last guy on this earth who’d do that. You should e-mail that woman and tell her. It’s not some hereditary thing. Patterns don’t have to repeat like that.’ Not for Jess, or Polly. And not for him—because he’d made the decision to be different. Only now he didn’t know if he’d been any better—if he could ever be any better.
Nadia blinked. ‘Okay.’ She took a step into the room. ‘When did they divorce?’
Ethan straightened and walked back out to the lounge, picked up his bag. ‘I was fourteen. It was a relief.’ He wished his mother had thrown Matthew out sooner.
‘Why—?’
‘Nadia, I don’t want to talk about it.’ What did she want to know? How he’d heard his mother’s tears late at night for years? How he and Jess and Polly had tried to get their father’s attention and never could compete with the bright young bimbos at the studio? How Ethan had worked so hard to make his mum smile?
‘I know that.’ Nadia looked him square in the eye. ‘But maybe you should.’
He almost smiled. But he said nothing. She really didn’t want to hear his sob story. He couldn’t think of a bigger turn-off. He was so much better at making her smile.
She walked with him to the door to see him off. ‘Bye,’ she said. ‘It was …’
‘Don’t say nice.’ His feelings were even more mixed-up. ‘Have fun with your flatmate tonight,’ he said.
‘I will.’ She smiled, but he could see she was biting back questions.
He didn’t want to go, but she had her own friends and her own life and it was busy. So busy there wasn’t as much room in it for him as he suddenly wanted. She put so much of herself into her work, her forum, her friends… So what? Now he was feeling jealous of those things? Clearly he needed more sleep.
When they’d finally sated themselves in the small hours last night, she’d curled into a little ball and slept like the dead. He’d woken too early and waited for ages, willing her to wake up, but it had taken so long he’d had to find something to read to keep himself from bothering her. He hadn’t wanted to disturb her when she looked so tired.
And he didn’t want to bother her now. Much.
He bent and kissed her. The way her lips clung made him feel better. Yeah, the sex was good. And that was all he wanted, right?
Well, no. Not any more.
Dissatisfied, Ethan walked home alone. He worked for a while. Spoke to a few mates. Decided on a quiet Saturday night in—the first in ages. And he spent it in front of his computer. Megan lounged on the sofa looking like a totally pampered cat. ‘It was the best three weeks of my life,’ she purred. ‘The absolute best.’
Nadia laughed—three weeks sailing round the Greek Islands with a lover wouldn’t be bad, would it?
‘So tell me about yours?’ Now Megan looked completely feline—and sly.
Nadia had tried hard to keep Megan talking about herself, but Megan wasn’t being denied any longer. She had her iPad on her lap, and was scrolling through the nightmare that was Ethan’s blog.
‘Did you know he’s put up another message?’
‘He has?’ Nadia’s heart raced. She’d hoped they were just going to forget about the blogs. She’d been gearing up to delete hers. But there it was.
Okay, so we’re behind on the date reporting. And I’m not going to report because the reality is a whole lot more complicated than this “he said/she said” forum. I just want to pass this message on to the women out there who are reading. You want a clue into the male psyche?
Here it is.
Utterly unlike the sharing need of the female, we guys don’t like to emote or analyse. Guys like action. So let us act. Let us be guys. Let us do the things we like to do for a woman.
Well, what did that mean?
‘Are you up for sharing, Nadia?’ Megan asked, her sly tone gone quiet. And curious.
Nadia shook her head. She’d already shared way too much of herself these last twenty-four hours—with him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
HE DIDN’T call on Sunday. Or text or e-mail or make any more comments on his blog. So she didn’t either. Which wasn’t to say she didn’t obsess over him any time she didn’t have her thoughts on a tight rein. And she worked late, late, late on her site.
Too early Monday morning Megan called up the stairs. ‘Nadia, there’s someone at the door for you.’
At seven? She went down, not trusting the wicked expression on Megan’s face.
But when she got to the door she understood. Ethan, looking dynamite in casual, a combo of relaxed and confident. He all but knocked her out.
‘What are you doing here?’ she managed to ask.
‘I thought I’d see you to your work today.’
She stared at the shiny new mountain bike beside him, still astounded to see him. ‘But your work is nearer here than mine.’
‘Well, I need more exercise than you.’ His eyes twin kled.
‘You’re not serious?’
‘Completely.’
Nadia’s eyes narrowed. He was here, but not for the right reason. She became aware of Megan, unsubtly hunting for something in the lounge, so she could check out Ethan some more. ‘I’ll just get my bag.’
Nadia backed into the house, drawing the door almost fully closed behind her.
‘Oh, Nadia.’ Megan stood with arms crossed, foot tapping, and a smile wider than Australia. ‘Nadia, Nadia, Nadia.’
‘No matter what you hear in the next ten minutes, do not come outside—okay?’ she instructed her friend.
Megan’s eyes widened. ‘Okay.’
Nadia ran to finish getting ready. She rammed her feet into her skates and skated out through the door, banging it behind her. She met his bright-eyed gaze as she did up the clip on her helmet. He’d turned the bike around and was astride, ready to push off.
Nadia moved up beside him—and then pulled her surprise.
The most horrendous, ear-splitting screeching sound suddenly deafened them.
‘What the hell is that?’ Ethan shouted, looking around.