WHEN HE LOOKED AT ME

CHAPTER 6

By 8 p.m., my nerves had taken on a life of their own, crawling under my skin, curling in my stomach, and making my hands tremble slightly. I checked the mirror twice, then a third time, smoothing the hem of my jeans even though nothing looked different. My hair fell the same way, my shirt was just as simple and comfortable as always but tonight felt bigger than outfits. Bigger than anything I had ever done before. Every little movement felt exaggerated in my mind, every heartbeat louder, every breath heavier.

A car horn sounded outside.

My stomach flipped, twisting in a way that was equal parts excitement and fear. I stepped outside, letting the night air brush against my face, cool and sharp. There he was Ethan, leaning casually against his car, hands shoved in his pockets, the streetlight casting a soft gold glow across his face. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. His eyes traced my face slowly, like he was memorizing something new, something he wanted to remember forever.

“Bella,” he breathed, pushing off the car with effortless grace. “You look… wow.”

Warmth spread across my cheeks, a sudden, involuntary blush that made me feel like I could melt right there. “It’s just jeans,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, though my voice felt small and uneven.

“It’s you,” he corrected quietly, the words gentle, sure, and completely disarming.

He opened the passenger door for me, his fingers brushing mine lightly as I slid in. The contact was fleeting, almost delicate, yet it sent a shiver up my arm, leaving a trail of warmth that lingered long after his hand pulled away. We drove in a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the soft music spilling from the car radio slow R&B, the kind that felt like warm air, like the gentle beating of a heart echoing in a quiet room. My fingers rested lightly on my lap, yet every nerve seemed alive, buzzing in sync with the hum of the engine and the faint rhythm of the city outside.

He parked at a lookout over the city, the twinkling lights stretching below us like a blanket stitched with gold threads. I pressed myself lightly against the hood of the car, the wind teasing my hair, brushing against my skin.

“I come here when I can’t think,” he said softly, voice carrying the weight of unspoken truths. “But tonight… I wanted to bring you.”

We sat there, side by side on the hood, sharing a silence that wasn’t empty. Ethan really talked, opening up about the divorce, the constant pressure, the loneliness he had carried behind that perfect smile. His voice cracked once, quiet but unmistakable, and without thinking, I reached for his hand.

He squeezed back, firm and grounding, without letting go.

For a moment, everything felt suspended,soft, fragile, perfect. The world outside, the city below, even the wind seemed to pause around us.

Then a familiar voice broke the spell.

“Ethan?”

We turned together. Collin stood by his car, his eyes landing immediately on our joined hands. His expression tightened for half a second, quick enough for me to notice, too fast for Ethan to catch. It was subtle, but it spoke volumes ,curiosity, concern, and maybe a little something more though not enough to hide from me.