“A dozen and a half,” he tells me, like he can read my mind. “I wanted to cover all my bases.”
“This is . . .” My voice drifts and I shake my head. “Amazing. Thank you.”
“Thank you for letting me come over.” He hesitates, shifting on his feet. “Truth? I figured I’d never see you again.”
“I don’t think we can fight it any longer,” I tell him quietly as I pull a chair out and settle in. Grabbing a doughnut out of the box, I snag a napkin from the nearby holder and set the doughnut on top of it. “Plus I wanted to talk to you.”
“What about?” He sits across the table from me, grabs a doughnut, one with orange sprinkles on top, and takes a big bite out of it.
“My sister. She told me she talked to you yesterday.”
He pauses in his chewing, then swallows. “Yeah.” His voice is raw. “She did.”
I almost don’t want to ask, but I have to know. “What did she say?”
“She’s watching out for you. That’s all.”
“That’s not enough.” I shake my head, frustrated. “Tell me what she said.”
The pain that fills his gaze tells me she said awful, horrible things. Things he probably doesn’t want me to know about. “Let’s just say that Brenna doesn’t like me very much. And the truth—it hurts.”
I can say nothing in return.
We’re quiet as we eat our doughnuts, separately contemplating the conversation with Brenna. I have no idea what was said, while Ethan knows that she said too much, took it too far.
“I didn’t ask her to do that,” I say after what felt like hours of uncomfortable silence, but was most likely only a minute.
“I know you didn’t. But she said some things we have to consider.”
I was contemplating having a second doughnut, but my appetite evaporates at his tone. “Like what?”
“Like the fact that we probably shouldn’t be together.”
“Then why are you here?” I lift my gaze to his, rubbing my thumb under the plastic lid of the to-go cup, flicking it back and forth.
“Because you call or text and I will always come running, Katie,” he admits, his dark gaze locked with mine. The air expels from my lungs in one solid exhalation, taking with it my heart, my soul. The way he says that, the look in his eyes, tells me he’s sincere.
He would do anything for me, regardless of whether I wanted his help or not. He’d just . . . be there.
“I know,” I whisper. “And that’s not fair of me, taking advantage of you.” I pause, then decide to go for it. “What happened with the interview?”
“With Lisa?” He makes an irritated face, his mouth drawing into a thin line. “I don’t want to talk to her. We’re just opening old wounds, Katie.”
“You want to move on?”
“I’ve always wanted to move on. It’s never been about the past, not for me. The connection we have is real and was formed all those years ago, but there’s more to us than what we suffered through together. You have to realize this,” he says, his gaze pleading.
His words touch me deeply. I know he’s right, but it’s still hard for me to put together that Will and Ethan are one and the same.
“Do you want another doughnut?” He nudges the box toward me and I stare at it. His abrupt change of subject is startling. Clearly he doesn’t want to talk about this.
Slowly I shake my head. “I think I’ll wait for later. Thank you for bringing them. They’re beautiful.”
He smiles. “I’ve never heard doughnuts described as beautiful before.”
“Well, they are, with their variety of colors.” I lean back in my chair, admiring him. “I like the hat.”
“Ah.” He rests his hand on top of it, then tugs it off, leaving his dark hair an adorable mess. “I forgot I had it on. It was cold this morning.”
“Yeah, it was.” I tilt my head, cross my arms in front of my chest. “What did you have planned today?”
He looks startled by my question. “What do you mean?”
“It’s going to be a beautiful Saturday. I wondered if you had any plans.” I shrug, hoping he thinks my question is casual.
It’s not.
“You know what I really want to do?”
“Definitely.”
“I wanted to go see about a dog.”
I frown at him. “A dog?”
“Yeah. Go to the local animal shelter and find one to bring home. Not a cute puppy, though. Everyone gets one of those. I’m looking for a dog who’s like a year or two old and doesn’t have a chance in hell of getting adopted.” His eyes grow dim. “I want to save the one nobody else wants.”
Of course he does. Because he thinks of himself as the one nobody else wants.
“But it’s just an idea,” he says with a shrug. “I probably won’t go through with it.”
“You should,” I tell him quietly.
“You think so?” He raises a brow. “You should probably get one, too.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” I’ve thought about having a pet, but I never manage to get around to finding one. A dog might be too high maintenance. I’d probably do better with a cat.
“A dog would make you feel safe. Warn you if there was someone coming to your door or hanging around your house at night.” He pauses, his gaze intense. “I don’t like thinking of you here all alone, Katie.”