Perfectly Toxic (The Sterling Shore Series Book 9) (20 page)

As much as she seemed to like me, I’m a little worried about his father.

I really hope he’s not as rude to me as Ethan is to most women.

Chapter 39

ETHAN

“So you and Bella are like a real thing?” Maverick asks me as I finish my workout and wipe away some of the sweat.

“Yeah. Why?”

He shrugs, even though there’s a taunting grin on his face. It’s been over a week since I actually got to have sex with Bella. First she was sick. Then I was sick. Hell, I haven’t even seen her since the day after she took care of me all day and night.

She had two doubles to work after that. Then she wanted to spend some time with Angel, and… Well, kids aren’t really my thing so I skipped out on that night.

Now it’s been three days, going on four, since I even saw her, since she and Allie needed some time to catch up, and the very next night I got hit up for poker.

Fucking eh. It’s not like I could tell the guys I needed to see Bella, considering the immortal hell I’ve given them since they got domesticated—which I’m not. At least… Fuck. I’m not, am I?

“Just curious,” Maverick says with a shrug. “You came back acting like we were all too tame for your taste, and here you are without any partying going on and a girl waiting for you at home. Just find it… funny.”

I crack my neck to the side while glaring at him. “She’s not waiting for me at home, and I’m not having this discussion right now.”

Ignoring his mocking laughter, I pull my phone out.

ME: You still coming at dinner tomorrow? Anyway I can squeeze in a date tonight?

Immediately there’s a text, as though she was waiting with a response on hand.

BELLA: Not tonight. I have to get my house clean. And as for tomorrow… Maybe it’s a little soon for a family dinner.

That has me pausing, and I cock my head to the side. She seemed fine with it just last week.

“Read this and tell me what it means,” I say to Maverick, tossing him my phone.

He’s laughing at first, but then he reads it, and his laughter fades as he grimaces. “It means she’s putting on the brakes. She has to clean? That’s a bullshit excuse if I’ve ever heard one. I take it you fucked up?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” I grumble, wondering if this is because I still haven’t met Daniel.

I don’t want them treating me like the hero, when I never would have heard about him if not for Bella. She deserves the praise, and I’m not taking that away from her no matter how much she tries to get me to do otherwise.

“Text her about this weekend. You don’t have a party or anything, do you?” he asks.

“Not this weekend. I cancelled it. But I do have one next weekend, and she’s supposed to be coming.”

“So text her about this Friday,” he says, handing me my phone back.

I can’t believe I’m doing this.

ME: Friday night—you and me.

BELLA: Can’t. Girls’ night. Leo’s boyfriend is opening a club a few towns over. We’re all going to support the opening.

That’s the first I’ve heard about that shit.

“Well?” Maverick prompts.

I blow out a breath while raking a hand through my hair.

“I’ve definitely fucked up somehow, but I have no idea how.”

He frowns while following me out to my car.

“I’m heading over to her house after I make a quick stop to grab a present I bought for her.”

Present? Shit! “Did I miss her birthday or something?”

He laughs then covers it with a cough. “Nah. It’s just something special I picked up for her. I’ll see what I can find out for you.”

He’s going over there, but I can’t?

Fuck that.

Instead of waiting around to figure out what I’ve done, I decide to go home, shower, and then head over to her house.

Unfortunately, when I roll up in my yard, Rye is pulling up at the same time, and he’s… wearing a dress…

It’s lacy, short, white, and… hideous.

“What the fucking hell?” I ask him, choking back a laugh at the insanity before my eyes.

“I need to borrow some clothes,” he growls, his cheeks puffing out. “And a shovel.”

Laughing, I head over to open my door, but I can’t stop myself from snapping a quick picture.

“I’ll kick your ass if
anyone
else sees that.”

“How did she get you in a dress?” I ask through my painful guffaws.

His cheeks turn red as he glares at me, shouldering by me on his way inside.

“She stole all my clothes, and this was literally the only thing in the fucking house besides
her
clothes that are way too damn small. It was either this, or get arrested for public indecency. I already almost got arrested for that once. I doubt they’d let me by again. Now give me some motherfucking clothes so that I can go kill my girlfriend.”

“Bedroom. Have at it,” I tell him, still laughing so hard that I have to double over.

Hell, if Rye can manage a relationship with a crazy one like Brin, then anyone can find a way to make it work.

“Can I ask you why you continue to do this?” I ask as I head into the bedroom.

“Because it’s fun when I prank her. Not so much when she gets me back twice as good.”

I lose it when I see him struggling to get the dress over his shoulders, and the pink thong he’s wearing just slays me completely until I’m collapsing to my knees, laughing so hard it hurts.

“The fucking hell?” he snaps, falling over when the dress tangles him up and he loses his balance.

He crashes to the floor with the white, old-school lacy dress that is wrapped all around his head, cursing as he spins in a circle on the ground like he’s trying to wiggle out of it.

“Why… Why are… you wearing… those?” I heave out through heavy falls of painful, somewhat maniacal laughter.

“Damn it!” he barks, still wriggling. “It was the damn pink shit or nothing at all, and this dress is too short for me to free-ball it.”

Words I never thought I’d hear him speak.

Dying. I’m fucking dying. Oh, it hurts too much to laugh this hard. I’m going to need a pain reliever.

“And why do you put up with this?” I ask when he finally rips the dress enough to get it off, and he glares over at me as he stands.

It’s really hard to stand here in front of my best friend when he’s wearing a motherfucking pink thong. The anger in his gaze fades as he rolls his eyes.

“Because she’s my person,” he says as though that explains everything.

That sobers me, because I didn’t mean for this to turn deep.

“She gets me—all of me—and she makes me smile when I never thought it’d be possible. Even when she makes me wear a stupid fucking dress,” he says, stifling a grin. “There will be hell to pay for that one though.”

It’s not so funny anymore.

“Besides, when Brin came along, I couldn’t seem to stay away unless I forced myself to. Not that you’d understand. But when it happens, nothing else really seems to matter as much, as long as you quit holding onto all the bullshit.”

I start to speak, but I decide to not get into chick talk, regardless of the fact it’s more tempting than it’s ever been before. It’s not been easy to let Bella work or spend time away from me. But she has. And she doesn’t seem to be having the same problem I am.

Guess I need to do something to change that.

Chapter 40

BELLA

It’s just starting to get dark, and I walk in with more of the fabric squares with pictures on them. I hated blowing off Ethan, but I really want to finish this project. Besides, the more I spend time with him, the less I see him as a hot time. He’s starting to become a lot more to me, and that’s dangerous territory with a guy who has confessed he’s ready to live like he never had the chance to.

Just as I walk through my kitchen, I hear a noise slap the floor, and something else slams into the ground as well. The fabric pictures tumble from my hand as I sprint across the room and head toward my bedroom as fast as possible.

Another loud noise clatters to the ground, and I scream, then clamp my hand over my mouth so that I don’t become the first dead dumbass in the horror film. As soon as I get my door shut, I lock it with shaking hands.

My entire body is trembling when I grab my phone out, and I dial the first person who comes to mind.

“Glad you called,” Ethan says on a sigh. “Listen, have I done something to—”

“Ethan!” I hiss, double-checking to make sure my door is locked. “Someone’s in my house!”

“On my way. Lock yourself in a room and don’t move,” he says, sounding winded like he’s running.

I hear his car cranking, and I stay on the phone, overjoyed with the fact he doesn’t live far away from me at all.

Another sound rattles out, like something is scurrying across the floor. “Hurry,” I whisper-yell.

“Just stay on the phone with me,” he says, sounding angry or panicked or both. I’m not sure which.

Silence stretches, with the exception of a few occasional curses coming through on the phone, and I press my other ear to the door, listening. If a knife slams through the wood, I’ll just go ahead and die from a heart attack.

Too many horror films.

As the unknown slasher or axe-murderer on the other side of the door maintains their silence, I bounce from one foot to the other, warily casting glances toward my window to make sure the asshole doesn’t sneak up on me that way.

“I’m almost there,” Ethan says harshly, reminding me he’s still on the phone.

“Do you have a weapon?” I hiss, watching for his lights.

“Yeah, there’s an assault rifle strapped to my back,” he deadpans.

“Really?”

“Fuck no. I just jumped in my car.”

“What if he has a gun?” I ask, still whispering.

“He? You know it’s a guy?”

“Do you know of any women who might break into my house and chop me into tiny bits? Men are the psychotic ones.”

“We met because a girl tried to stab me with a damn broken beer bottle. Be thankful she’s in another country right now.”

“Okay, so it’s
usually
men,” I amend.

“Ash had a female stalker, and have you met Raya’s family?”

It occurs to me that we’re talking like my life isn’t at stake here, and I realize he’s trying to distract me. It doesn’t work because something that sounds like glass crashes somewhere in the house, and I yelp.

“Bella! The fuck?”

“Something just broke,” I whisper, slinking back away from the door.

“Just stay put and stay quiet.”

“Says the guy who is on the phone and talking to me,” I retort.

Lights blur by me, and a car skids to a halt outside. Relief fills me like cool water when I see it’s Ethan’s car.

“I’m here,” he says as the phone goes dead.

My breath freezes in my lungs when I hear the front door slam, and fear seizes my momentary reprieve. What if Ethan gets hurt? What if the guy has a gun or a machete or something?

Minutes feel like hours, and my stomach roils and twists with palpable anxiety.

When I hear a loud bout of cursing, I jerk open the door, grabbing the only thing in my room that will do some damage as I dart out to save an unarmed Ethan. A new sense of courage fills me and I launch myself at the shadowy figure, raising my hands above my head to bring my Magic Wand down on the psycho.

But my hands freeze, suspended midair, when Ethan flips on the light and smirks at me.

“That’s twice you’ve brought your toy out for me,” he states dryly.

He tosses a flashlight to the ground, rolling his eyes at me.

“There’s no one here,” he adds as I lower the vibrator that is masquerading as a weapon. A frown forms on my lips as I drop the vibrator to the table beside me.

“I swear someone is here.”

He arches an eyebrow before tugging me to him. “If you wanted to see me, all you had to do was call. Freaking me out like this isn’t cool,” he goes on, apparently convinced I’m playing little-girl games.

I scowl at him, ready to say something to wipe that smug, condescending look off his face, when something zooms by us, and my eyes catch sight of a hairless, massive rat.

I scream and leap up on Ethan, practically strangling him as I climb him like a freaking tree. He coughs and chokes, but I only squeeze tighter when the hairless beast zooms by again.

“The fuck is that?” he chokes out, tugging my arms looser around his neck so he can breathe.

“A rat! A big fucking rat! I’m burning my house down and moving in with you! Go, Gigantor! Get me the hell out of here now!”

He chuckles like I’m joking. I’m not. I’m really not. Hell to the no. Fuck rats.

The thing suddenly stops running, and when it slows down, I realize it’s not a rat…
Oh no he didn’t.
I’m going to freaking kill him!

The hairless maniac I accused of being a rat suddenly meows at us, and it starts weaving in and out of Ethan’s legs.

“Is that a… cat? Who shaved it?”

“Maverick,” I growl, furious now.

“Maverick shaved the cat?” Ethan asks, confused as I slide down his body and glare at the little hairless thing, which is so ugly that it’s almost cute.

“No,” I snap, still ready to strangle that son of a bitch.

“Explain,” Ethan says as I squeak and back away from the kitten. Do all cats have that kind of skin under their pretty hair?

“It’s a sphynx kitty. Also known as a hairless pussy.”

Ethan releases a burst of laughter, but then it dies immediately. “How the hell did he get it in here? You have a security system.”

“He has my codes to my door and alarm system,” I tell him, kneeling down as the kitten starts purring and rubbing against my leg. Is that a tag on its collar?

Bananas,
the tag says with engraved letters. He named the damn thing Bananas?

Definitely killing him.

What the hell am I going to do with this thing?

I look up just as Ethan stalks away, heading toward the living room like a man on a mission. Confused, I walk past the kitten that I really don’t want to touch, and follow him. When I see him studying my door, I cock my head to the side.

“What are you doing?”

“Did you install this?” he asks instead of answering me, gesturing toward the keyless entry lock.

“No. It was here before us.”

“Do you have the instructions on changing the code?”

“Um… yeah. Why?”

His eyes narrow as he casts a glare in my direction.

“Where?”

I point to the small table’s drawer beside me, and he cracks his neck to the side before walking up and jerking the drawer open. In a few seconds, he’s reading through the manual for my keyless entry lock.

“What are you doing?” I ask, eyeing him like he’s crazy as the hairless kitten starts running through my house again.

Seriously, what am I going to do with that thing? Damn Maverick Sterling.

“Changing your code so that Maverick doesn’t have it anymore. Why the hell does he even have it anyway?”

He doesn’t even look up from the instruction book.

“Um… He helped me move Allie into Wren’s house. Why are you changing my code without permission?”

“Because the only guy who should have your fucking code is me.”

Is that jealousy Ethan Noles is displaying again? Or is it just a little bit of possessiveness? And why do I find it cute?

“Hmm,” I say, pulling one of his hands away and making a dramatic show of studying it.

“What are you doing?” he asks as I grab his other hand that is still clinging to the book.

My eyes stay on his hand as I answer. “Looking for scabs,” I state as though it’s obvious.

“Why?” he drawls, sounding as though
I’m
the crazy one.

“Because you sound like a guy who is still dragging his knuckles,” I say while looking back up, batting my lashes at him with a sweet smile on my lips. “If you pull a club out of your loin cloth, we’re going to have problems.”

He grunts, which only feeds my Neanderthal angle, and I arch an eyebrow as if to say as much. He rolls his eyes and resumes his lock research, ignoring my vocal and silent barb.

He walks away, moving toward the door, and a series of beeps sound out as he reprograms the lock.

“Why did you cancel on my parents’ dinner?” he asks, not looking at me as he continues his task.

“I didn’t,” I say, confused.

“Yeah, you did.”

“No, I didn’t. I made a joke. A dirty joke.”

He looks utterly bewildered when he shuts the door and switches the lock into place.

“Does Jane get the new code, Tarzan?”

“What dirty joke?” he asks instead of playing along.

“You asked if I was coming
at
dinner. Not
to
dinner.”

His eyebrows go up, and I grin. “I thought coming
at
a family dinner needed a little more relationship development first. Of course I’m coming
to
dinner. I like your mother, and she’s going to show me a lot of really embarrassing pictures of you.”

That earns me a groan, and he rakes a hand through his hair while shaking his head.

“Thanks for coming to my rescue, by the way. I’ll kill Maverick later for sneaking that damn cat in here. Need a kitten?” I ask him, grinning.

He doesn’t smile though as he looks over at me. Nope. That’s not a man in the mood for jokes. He looks hungry… Actually, he looks starved.

Heat blooms across my chest, and my core contracts as I stare into those dark eyes. My bottom lip folds between my teeth as I lose all the humor I was clinging to moments ago.

“You haven’t been dodging me?” he asks.

Confused, I shake my head. “No. I’ve been busy, and I’m working on something special for your mother. She seems really sweet, and I wanted to do something nice for her. It’s taken me longer than I thought it would.”

He takes a step closer, looking more like a predator than the cocky jerk he usually is.

“And it hasn’t bothered you to just not see me all week?” he muses, but it sounds like he’s daring me to say the wrong thing.

It’s been three days… But yes, it’s driven me insane.

Telling him that I’m intentionally trying not to think about him is probably not the best answer. But since he took such good care of me when I was sick, I’ve found myself disturbingly getting attached too much too soon. So maybe a step back was needed to get my head right.

I don’t confess that. I don’t say anything at all.

“Bella?” he prompts.

“Yes,” I finally say quietly.

“Yes what?” he asks, moving another step closer. Then another.

“Yes, it’s bothered me.”

That’s apparently what he wants to hear, because he’s suddenly on me, pushing me against the wall as his mouth descends on mine, kissing me like he can’t stop himself. His tongue invades, and I kiss him back with just as much pent-up frustration and need.

I moan into his mouth as he rips my shirt up, only releasing my lips long enough to get the shirt over my head. His hands run down my bare skin before catching the hooks of my bra and stripping them open. As my bra slides to the floor, I reach for the bottom of his shirt, still kissing him and struggling to do two tasks at once.

He leans back and helps me tug his shirt over his head, tossing it aside as he bends and captures a nipple in his mouth without warning. My eyes cross, and my hands immediately go to his shoulders, clutching him.

We’ve been skipping foreplay, because we’re both too greedy for the main event. Just this tiny amount of buildup is already driving me insane. I’m used to being thrown against the wall and taken by now. Instead, my nipples are ice-cutting hard, and Ethan is driving me insane with them, swapping his attention from one to the other.

He makes some carnal noise in the back of his throat before his lips leave my breasts and find my lips again. His hands are everywhere, exploring me like he’s committing everything to memory.

I don’t even notice him taking off my pants until they’re missing, along with my underwear. When he lifts me, I expect him to take me against whatever hard surface is closest, but he carries me toward my room instead.