001 — 1.1 | My Fiancé’s Best Friend
Leila Voss’ POV,
It’s my fiancé’s birthday.
Well, technically, it’s not his birthday yet. But it would be in a few hours, so I thought it might be a good idea to be there with him when he clocks his new age.
Which explains why I’m outside his apartment building with the intention of sleeping over.
My grip on the cake box I’m holding tightens when I lock my car door, then I walk towards the elevator. It’s not even up to five minutes before I’m in front of his own apartment door.
I ring the door bell once, twice, and again, expecting him to open the door as he usually does, but nothing happens.
I try again. And when no one opens the door, I reach for my phone from my bag and head to my contact list, about to call him.
However, I’m interrupted by the sound of new, unfamiliar footsteps coming from the other side of the door, and I raise my head just in time for the door to open.
Only to reveal the last person I expected to be here.
Ethan Callahan. My fiance — Julian’s — best friend.
What is he doing here? In this city? Shouldn’t he be in London, managing his family’s business?
He looks taller and muscular than I remember from the last time I saw him, with a few wet strands of his dark hair falling over his eyes, his dark gaze pinned on mine.
And he’s shirtless. Not only that — he looks like he’s just walked out of a bath, given the towel tied around his hips and water on his skin.
Fuck.
My mouth waters, and I let my gaze roam over his sculpted body, swallowing as my eyes trail the water traveling down his chest before disappearing into the towel down that —
“What are you looking at?”
I startle as the deep rumble of his voice pulls me out of my thoughts, my hold on the cake box tightening when it almost falls.
I meet his gaze again, and my face flames up when I see the small teasing smirk curled at the edge of his lips.
Damn it. The man knows I was staring.
“Leila — “
“Yes, yes,” I startle again as he snaps his fingers before my eyes, taking a step back before looking into the dark pools of his eyes. “Where’s Julian?”
“He has a late night shift,” he replies, moving aside so I can enter. “Didn’t tell you he wouldn’t be here?”
“No,” I reply, stepping further into the house while he closes the door. Once I drop the cake on the dinning table, I turn to face him, my hands planted against my hips. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you that,” he replies, moving further inside. “What are you doing here this late?”
“Hello, Julian and I are fiancés, and I have every right to be in his apartment?” I say. “But of course, you don’t know that.”
Deep inside me though, I know he does. He’s Julian’s best friend, and just because he didn’t attend our engagement party, it doesn’t mean he’s not aware.
Still doesn’t make his question less annoying. Why? I have no idea.
Maybe it’s because I came here, hoping Julian and I would finally have s*x after weeks of not having one. He’s been really busy with work that he rarely even gives me his attention, so of course, his birthday night should’ve been one to satisfy us.
And now this.
“You seem to be in a really terrible mood,” Ethan says, studying me. Then, he raises a brow. “You’re upset a certain someone isn’t here?”
“It’s none of your business,” I almost snap, heading towards the living room. “Leave me alone.”
Ethan says nothing as I slump into the couch and pick up a remote, then switch on the television.
I’ll leave later. And I swear Julian won’t hear the end of this.
***
It’s raining outside.
Not that I expected it. It had begun to rain endlessly earlier before I could leave, and since I can’t go under, I decided to spend the night here.
Ethan, too, doesn’t look like he’d be leaving anytime soon, so that makes both of us.
I’m seated in the living room, after changing into one of my night wears from Julian’s bedroom, and my attention is fixed on the television while Ethan is in one of the rooms. I have no idea what he’s doing, but I’m a bit curious about it, given he’s not supposed to be here at all.
However, with the way we act around each other, like cat and dog, I doubt we’ll be having any cordial conversation tonight.
I now suddenly need a drink.
With that thought in mind, I get down from the couch and slip my legs into my slippers, adjust my night robe around my body, and head to the kitchen.
I open the cabinet to reach for the bottle of wine, but just as my fingers brush against the glass, Ethan’s voice fills the space.
“What are you looking for?”
I flinch immediately and turn, my lips pursing into a thin line as I meet his gaze.
“You should learn to stop scaring people,” I say, glaring. “This is not some kind of horror movie.”
He chuckles, the sound reverberating in the room in a way that sends shivers through my body, but I manage to keep my expression neutral.
“What’s funny?”
He shrugs like I didn’t just ask a question, then opens the refrigerator without a second glance my way. My breath hitches in my throat when he gulps down water from the bottle he picked, his Adam apple bobbing with the action.
Dear lord.
Before I can stop myself, my gaze follows the trail of water that drips down his chin onto his chest, and that’s when I realize, with startling clarity, that he’s still shirtless.
Except, he’s on a pair of joggers, though. And the sight makes me want to put my hands on him so I can feel his skin.
Creepy, I know. But what can a girl do?
His current state doesn’t help the fact that there’s already been an underlying tension between us since the first time we met three years ago which I always brushed away with my hostility towards him.
And worse, Julian might actually have my head if he realizes I dream about his best friend almost every night in a not-so-innocent way.
I blanch at my first acceptance of attraction towards Ethan Callahan, then look away immediately, heat flaring in my cheek.
“Can you at least put on a shirt?” The words escape me before I can even stop them.
Ethan sets the bottle down on the kitchen counter and raises one of his perfectly shaped brow, a look of amusement glinting in his eye. “Why are you bothered?”
“Because it’s inappropriate,” I say immediately, closing the cabinet as the need for a drink vanishes.
I might just go to bed anyway. Before I do something I might end up regretting.
Because no way in f**k will I ever accept that I’m imagining the way Ethan is staring at me like he wants to devour me right here.
“Haven’t you seen worse?” He asks, and I stop just by the doorway of the kitchen.
I turn to look at him. “No, I haven’t.”
“Oh?” He raises a brow, then takes a step towards me. Another step closer. “Haven’t you and Julian f****d?”
My eyes widen at the vulgar word, and I assume my face must be as red as a tomato.
However, I school my expression to appear unbothered when I fold my arms across my chest and ask, “how does that concern you?”
“Because you’re acting like you’ve never seen a grown man shirtless before,” he’s closer now, and I can feel his minty cologne clouding my senses. “You and Julian only f**k with clothes on?”
Heat shoots through my core at the mental image he just planted in my head, but this time, I imagine it’s me and him. Ethan, I mean.
Fuck. No, no, no —
“I’m not having this conversation with you, Ethan,” I say immediately, hating the way my skin heats up. “I’m going to bed.”
Without allowing him say anything, I turn to leave, but before I can take a step, I’m pulled backwards by the arm, then slammed against the wall.
“Ethan — ”
And then, his lips are on mine.