It Started with a Snap by Piper James

Chapter Twenty

Ethan

Icouldn’t stop thinking about how much fun I had today. When I decided to pick up some burgers and go extend that olive branch to Ember, I never in a million years expected to end up at a carnival. And even if I had somehow predicted that would happen, there was no way I’d have known the day would turn out like it had—standing on the front porch of the ranch, turning down Ember’s offer to come inside.

You fucking idiot!

I shook my head, pushing that thought away for the four hundredth time since I pulled away from the ranch. It had been the right choice. My logic and good sense knew that. It was my body that was putting up the fight for me to race back over there and push my way into the house. And her.

Okay, maybe I wouldn’t have gone that far in any reality, but I did want to go back and kiss her. A proper kiss that left her panting for more instead of that peck on the cheek I’d offered after the best day I’d had in…well…years.

Ember was fun and engaging, even laughing at herself after the puking incident—something that would have made another woman end the date immediately.

Wait, what?

Was it a date? It certainly felt like one to me, with all the hand-holding that went on. But did Ember see it that way? I wasn’t totally sure.

I knew we agreed to bury the hatchet and be friends. And other than the first time when she dragged me to that awful ride, I’d been the one to instigate all the hand-holding. Well, except for when I won her that bunny. Did that mean she liked it and wasn’t just holding my hand so as not to hurt my feelings?

“Jesus Christ,” I mumbled, raking my hand through my hair.

I sounded like a thirteen-year-old, wondering if his crush liked him back. I was a grown-ass man, and Ember was definitely a woman. If we liked each other, we should—and would—tell each other, right?

Shit. Maybe not. Because if I was being honest with myself, I’d been crushing on Ember for a while now. Maybe even since the night I met her. She was beautiful and so full of life, but she was also loud, had no filter, and didn’t give two shits about what people thought of her. That was why I fought my attraction to her for so long. We seemed to be polar opposites, and I knew she’d never go for a guy like me. Hell, I wasn’t even sure she knew I was there when we all hung out together.

I thought I was being realistic, but maybe I was just fooling myself. I was in self-preservation mode, unwilling to take a chance on what I was feeling. But what if I’d been wrong? What if Ember Moore would go for someone like me?

I picked up my phone from the bed beside me and pulled up Ember’s number. Checking the time to make sure it wasn’t too late—it was only nine o’clock—I tapped out a quick text message.

Me: Thanks for a great day. I had a lot of fun.

Less than a minute passed before I got a response.

Ember: I’m glad.

I stared at the response, finding it lackluster and stilted. Of course, it was pretty common to inject the wrong tone into a text message, but remembering my rejection of her offer to go inside, I wanted to make sure she knew I wasn’t rejecting her.

Because I wasn’t. I was protecting whatever was building between us. I didn’t want to mess it up by jumping into bed with her too quickly…if that was even what she fucking had in mind. Had I misread that completely?

“Damn it, Ethan. You’re an adult. Act like it.”

Me: Everything okay?

Ember: Yes. Everything is fine. Why?

Me: Just making sure you’re not throwing up again. I know you have a penchant for tossing your cookies.

Ember: Hardy-har-har. You’re hilarious.

Me: I know, right? I should’ve been a comedian.

Ember: Yeah…I think you made the right choice. Stick with construction and business.

Me: Ouch. Way to kill a man’s dreams, Em. Shame on you.

Ember: Just keeping it real.

Me: Yeah. Real harsh, you mean.

Ember: You’ll survive.

Me: I’ll survive that, sure. But I might not survive the fact that I told you I had fun and you said “I’m glad” instead of telling me you had fun, too.

Iwas watching the screen of my phone, waiting for her reply when it started to ring. Ember was calling me. And it was a video call. I was sitting in bed, my back propped up by several pillows, and I was shirtless. I contemplated rejecting the call for a fraction of a second. I could put on a shirt and call her back.

But she’d seen me shirtless at the boutique. It was no big deal, right? Tapping the screen, I held my breath as I waited for the call to fully connect. When it did, the breath whistled through my teeth. She was in bed, too, with Kane curled up on the pillow beside her. But unfortunately, she was wearing a shirt.

“I told you I had fun on the drive…home…” she said, her words trailing off and her eyes widening when she got her first clear look at me. She coughed, cleared her throat, and said, “This isn’t that kind of call, Ethan Perry.”

A laugh barked out of me. “Hey, you called me. I just happened to be in bed. Would you prefer I didn’t answer?”

“I’d prefer it if you put a shirt on,” she deadpanned.

“And why is that?” I asked, tilting my head to study her face on the screen.

She narrowed her eyes before her expression smoothed out. “You know I’m prone to nausea and vomiting. But if you’re willing to risk seeing it happen again…”

Her words trailed off with a shrug, but she couldn’t mask the laughter in her eyes. I dropped my chin to my chest, then peered up at the screen from beneath my lashes.

“Harsh, Moore. Harsh.”

She laughed then, and the sound was music to my ears. She leaned back into the pillows propped behind her with a grin.

“Anyway, as I was saying, I already told you I had fun. Why are you being so needy? Should I be worried about your self-esteem?”

“Well, you did just tell me the sight of my bare chest makes you want to hurl,” I countered.

“Ugh, fine,” she said, rolling her eyes in an exaggerated manner. “I had a decent time. You’re not nearly as boring as I assumed you were. And the sight of your bare chest only makes me want to puke a little, tiny bit. There. Better?”

“Please. Stop,” I said, arching a brow. “You’re making me blush with all this high praise.”

She chuckled, a low husky sound that set my nerve endings on fire. I decided right then and there that Ember Moore could insult me as much as she wanted…as long as it made her laugh. I didn’t even care that we were both avoiding the elephant in the room—her invitation to join her inside the ranch house and my subsequent refusal. I didn’t want to say anything to mess with this easy rapport we had going.

We chatted for over two hours, talking about everything and nothing at all. I hadn’t felt so relaxed and comfortable around someone who wasn’t one of my brothers in a long time—if ever. We discussed our favorite music, movies, and television shows, as well as hobbies we enjoyed and activities we hated.

We had a lot more in common than I ever expected, and the things we disagreed on turned into lively debates over the pros and cons of the subject.

Ember was a great conversationalist, and I found myself disappointed when she started to yawn. Reluctantly, I told her to get some rest and bid her goodnight.

Then she gave me a sleepy smile, pulled her giant bunny from somewhere to her left and hugged it to her chest, and said “night-night,” before ending the call. I couldn’t suppress my grin as I turned off my bedside lamp and settled down into my bed.

I fell asleep with that smile on my face and dreamed of blonde hair, blue eyes, and soft fingers interlaced with mine.