Chapter 15: Nightshade

Ethan's apartment was nothing like I expected.

The elevator doors opened into a massive penthouse, and for a second, I just stood there, trying to process it. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city skyline, the distant lights casting golden reflections against sleek marble floors. The space was modern and effortlessly sophisticated—muted gray tones, polished wood, and soft ambient lighting that gave everything a warm glow. A large sectional couch stretched across the living room, facing a massive flat-screen mounted on the wall.

Everything about it screamed money.

Not the loud, flashy kind. The quiet, understated kind that was so deeply ingrained in someone's life they didn't even think about it.

I exhaled, shifting awkwardly. "This is your place?"

Ethan tossed his keys onto the counter, giving me a tired smirk. "Expecting something different?"

I blinked. "Yeah. I don't know what, but... not this."

He huffed a quiet laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. "You want something to drink?"

I shook my head. "No, I should probably get going—"

"Stay."

The word was soft but firm, stopping me mid-sentence. I glanced up at him, my pulse stuttering.

He was watching me closely, his expression unreadable. "It's late," he continued. "I don't like the thought of you walking home by yourself."

My stomach flipped.

I hesitated, logic battling with the warmth spreading in my chest. It wasn't like I had to leave. And it was late.

I swallowed. "Are you sure?"

Ethan nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah." Then, as if realizing how that might've sounded, he quickly added, "I have a guest room. You can crash there."

I let out a breath, forcing myself to relax. "Okay."

He nodded again, as if sealing the decision. "I'll grab you something to wear."

I watched him disappear down the hall, my heart still racing.

What the hell am I doing?

A few minutes later, he returned, handing me a neatly folded black T-shirt and a pair of drawstring shorts. "These should work."

I took them, my fingers brushing his for a second. "Thanks."

"The guest room's down the hall, second door on the right."

I nodded and headed toward it, pushing the door open to reveal a bedroom that was just as elegant as the rest of the apartment. The king-sized bed was covered in dark gray sheets, a minimalist desk sat in the corner, and a floor-to-ceiling window overlooked the city. It was the kind of place that felt both intimate and distant at the same time.

I let out a shaky breath, changing into the clothes Ethan had given me. His T-shirt was soft, hanging loosely over my frame, the fabric carrying the faint scent of him—cedarwood and something subtly sweet. My skin tingled as I rolled up the sleeves, catching my reflection in the mirror.

This felt... different.

Shaking the thought away, I made my way back toward the living room, pausing when the scent of food hit me.

Garlic. Butter. Seared meat.

I followed the smell into the kitchen, where Ethan stood in front of the stove, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. The muscles in his forearms tensed slightly as he worked, moving effortlessly as if cooking was second nature to him.

I crossed my arms, leaning against the doorway. "Didn't know you could cook."

He glanced over his shoulder, smirking. "I have a few skills."

I rolled my eyes but stepped closer. "It smells good."

"Try it."

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Ethan speared a piece of beef from the pan, blew on it lightly, then held it up to my lips.

My brain short-circuited.

The gesture itself wasn't what got to me—it was the way his eyes locked onto mine, the subtle pause as he waited for me to take it. The way his breath hitched just slightly, as if he wasn't entirely unaffected either.

My lips parted, and I let him feed me the bite, the warmth of the food spreading across my tongue. It was rich, savory—probably delicious, but I barely processed the taste.

Because all I could focus on was him.

Ethan's gaze lingered, unreadable.

I swallowed, my throat tight. "It's... good."

A smirk tugged at his lips. "Told you."

I quickly turned away, trying to will away the heat creeping up my neck.

Get a grip, Lily.

But then, before I could stop myself, my mind conjured up a reckless, ridiculous thought.

What would it feel like if he closed the space between us? If his lips brushed mine? If he backed me against the counter, his hands gripping my waist, his breath warm against my skin—

I shut the thought down so fast it almost made me dizzy.

No. Nope. Absolutely not.

Mentally scolding myself, I focused on my plate, forcing myself to eat like a normal person. Ethan didn't seem to notice my internal struggle—or maybe he did and was just pretending not to. Either way, the air between us was still thick, still buzzing.

By the time we finished, I felt like I had barely taken a full breath.

Ethan stretched, leaning back against the couch. "You up for a movie?"

I nodded, eager for something to focus on. "Sure. What are we watching?"

He grabbed the remote and started scrolling. "Something mindless. Unless you're in the mood for horror?"

I groaned. "Absolutely not."

Ethan chuckled, finally settling on something. The opening scene flickered across the screen, but I barely processed it.

Because my mind was still stuck in the moments before.

The way he looked at me when he fed me that bite of food.

The movie played in the background, but neither of us was really paying attention. The weight of the night still lingered, but it wasn't heavy anymore. It had shifted into something else—something lighter, yet just as intense.

I curled up against the armrest, feeling the exhaustion creeping in, but I was too wired to sleep.

Ethan glanced over at me. "You comfortable over there?"

I stretched my legs out, nudging his thigh with my foot. "Very."

He smirked, grabbing my ankle and tugging slightly, making me slide down the couch. "Hey!" I yelped, swatting at him.

Ethan just laughed. "What? You looked too relaxed."

I scowled at him. "And you're annoying."

He leaned back, grinning. "You like it."

I rolled my eyes. "Please."

His smirk deepened, and I immediately knew I'd said the wrong thing. "Oh, you definitely do," he said smugly.

I huffed. "You have an ego problem."

"And you have a blushing problem."

My entire body stiffened. "I do not."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Lily, you're literally turning red right now."

I gasped, grabbing the nearest pillow and smacking it against his chest before holding it up to my own face. "Shut up."

Ethan chuckled, the sound low and amused. "Oh, come on, don't hide."

I shook my head behind the pillow. "I hate you."

"No, you don't."

I could hear the smirk in his voice, but before I could respond, I felt a shift on the couch. The air changed.

And then—

The pillow was slowly pulled away from my face.

I blinked, suddenly staring directly into Ethan's eyes.

My breath caught.

He was close. Closer than I expected.

I could see every detail—the way his dark lashes framed his eyes, the sharpness of his jawline, the way his lips parted slightly, like he was about to say something but had decided against it.

But what completely unraveled me was the way his gaze flickered—just briefly—down to my lips.

Then back to my eyes.

My heart pounded so hard I was sure he could hear it.

The air between us felt thick, buzzing with something neither of us acknowledged but both of us felt.

I swallowed, my voice barely above a whisper. "Ethan..."

He didn't move away. If anything, he leaned in just a little.

"Yeah?" he murmured.

I had no idea what I was supposed to say.

Because suddenly, all I could think about was how easy it would be for him to close the gap. How close we already were.

How much I wanted him to—

I snapped out of it so fast it nearly gave me whiplash.

I cleared my throat, pulling back slightly, breaking the moment. "You're way too entertained by embarrassing me."

Ethan smirked, but his eyes still held that same intensity. "It's a little too easy."

I huffed, crossing my arms. "You suck."

He leaned back, finally putting some distance between us, but the air still crackled. "You love it."

I threw the pillow at him.

And he just laughed.