In the Fire (17 page)

“I’m sorry, Ethan. But this was the only way I could get you to talk to me.”

I yanked off my apron, tossed it on the table and sat down heavily in one of the chairs. I crossed my arms, waiting for him to speak.

“You wanted to get my attention, Lassiter? Fine. Talk.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jamie

I picked up my spoon and scooped a bite of the crème brûlée, closing my eyes to savor the creamy sweetness when it hit my tongue. I motioned to the untouched ramekin. “This is too good to waste. Why don’t you share with me, then we can talk?”

Ethan’s gaze briefly flitted to the door, then back to my face. He shook his head. Apprehension rolled off him in waves and I knew he was trying to figure out the fastest exit strategy.

Regretfully, I put down my spoon. “Look, I know you don’t want to be here, but I have to say it was worth it. The meal was incredible. I haven’t had a venison that good in ages.”

Ethan’s smile was smug as he toyed with the edge of one of the napkins on the table. “Well, I needed a menu to please the Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, so a traditional Pac Northwest meal seemed appropriate. Glad it was up to snuff with your golden palate.”

I snorted softly. I’d missed his insults, in an odd and demented sort of way. He kept his eyes on the napkin he was worrying between his fingers.

“Ethan, anyone would have loved the meal you just cooked, golden palate or not. You were insanely talented when we were in school together, but I can honestly say you’ve far surpassed that level. Working at Sharpe’s has been so good for you. Look how good you are with Tyler.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, Ethan. You’re not the bastard you think you are. You’re patient and kind and generous with Tyler. Everyone can see it.”

“It’s my job to make sure he does shit right.”

“Yes it’s your job. But you’re different with him.”

He finally looked up at me, his expression a mixture of anger and hurt. “Well, I didn’t train in a fancy-ass five-star restaurant in New York, but I wouldn’t trade my time at Cal’s for anything.”

“True. Not everyone did get to go to Paris and land a job at Cielo. And it seems to be the only conversation we know how to have anymore. The choices and opportunities that set us on this path.”

His jaw tightened as he spit out the next words. “We all make choices, Golden Boy. The trick is learning to live with them.”

In as even a voice as I could, I replied, “Yes. Yes we do. Even the choices we didn’t choose to make. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“If you’re talking about Trevor, that’s your own fault for letting him be master and commander of all your decisions.”

I kept my eyes locked on his as I stood and moved toward him. “Actually, I’m not talking about Trevor right now, but I agree we need to. And soon. No, what I’m referring to happened before I even knew Trevor.”

Ethan’s body went still, his eyes darting back to the door before turning to look at me. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, Lassiter. I thought you were over Mommy Dearest and Daddy Demented controlling your life.”

The urge to reach out and smack him almost overrode all rational thought. “Getting warmer, but nope. It cost me ten thousand dollars in therapy to say ‘I was very angry at my parents.’ But I’m over it. I’m talking about after dear old Mom and Dad disinherited me.”

I hid a smile when Ethan bit out. “I said no
Pretty Woman
jokes. Jesus, having to watch that shitty movie over and over again with Claire was bad enough.” Ethan’s shoulders sagged as he closed his eyes. “Just spit it out, Lassiter. I’m not in the mood to play games tonight.”

My voice wavered. “Why did you do it, E? I need to hear it from you. No one else, just you.”

He cleared his throat but didn’t answer. I smiled sadly and took pity on him, unable to stand the look on his face.

“Why did you bow out of the scholarship competition? And why didn’t you talk to me about it? I can’t honestly say which hurt more when I found out about all this—you sabotaging your opportunity to study in Paris, or not saying a word to me about it afterward.”

All the energy that had drained out of Ethan a few moments ago came surging back as his body vibrated with his anger. “Who told you? Trevor had no right to dig into my personal shit.”

My voice rose with a slight edge I was having trouble controlling. “Does it really matter? I’m just hurt
you
never told me. Hell, Ethan, I was under the impression we shared everything when we were together. I was closer to you than I had ever been with anyone my entire life, and you couldn’t tell me what really happened in that interview?”

He scrubbed a hand over his face, his expression sad and resigned. “Shit. You want to talk about it now? We’ll talk about it now. What did you want me to do? I went into that semester failing every pastry lesson. I wouldn’t have even been in the running for the goddamn scholarship if it hadn’t been for you. So when they asked me why I deserved the scholarship I told them the truth. That I was a badass motherfucking chef, but I didn’t deserve it.” He finally opened his eyes, his voice softer. “You did, though.”

The pain I had felt when Trevor told me about the scholarship was nothing compared to what I felt now. At first I hadn’t believed it. Once the weight of the news hit me, I had almost asked for the driver to turn around and head back to the Institute. I wanted to hear it from Chef B himself. I wanted to hear what he had casually shared with Trevor after the brunch, which according to Trevor was just ambiguous enough to suggest Ethan had thrown the entire competition, but not an outright statement of fact. I knew if I could just confront Chef B he’d tell me Trevor was lying again, determined more than ever to paint Ethan as the bad guy. But Trevor had been so shaken when he told me, I knew even he wouldn’t have crossed this line with me.

For two days I had stewed over it, shocked and angry, until I was finally ready to confront Ethan about everything at the restaurant. When he wasn’t there, I’d made a snap decision to confront Claire instead, hoping it had just been another elaborate lie on Trevor’s part to drive more of a wedge between me and Ethan. With as few details as she could get by with, she had confirmed Chef B’s story. Seeing him now, I knew it was all true. I just didn’t understand why.

“All I wanted was a choice, Ethan. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“What would you have done if you were in my shoes? Take the scholarship even though you knew, deep down inside, you didn’t deserve it?”

I reached across the table and gently touched the back of his hand with my fingers. He flinched slightly and looked up, the pain and ghosts from all those years ago heavy in his eyes.

“I honestly don’t know. What I do know is I wanted it to be fair. And the committee’s choice. They should have been the ones to decide who deserved the chance to go to Paris. Not you.”

His body sagged as he pulled his hand out from under mine, but he said nothing.

“If all these years apart on our own separate paths have taught me anything, it’s that I would have turned down Paris and chosen to stay.”

“Jamie—”

“Let me talk. You asked if Trevor took away my choice. I’m not going to sit here and defend him or his actions. He screwed up and he knows it. For better or worse, I know it now too. But I let him make those choices for me. I should have fought harder for us. I didn’t. And knowing I let you go without a fight hurts more than I can ever tell you.”

“What’s done is done. I made my choice. You made yours.”

“Why are you so content to throw all this away? For weeks I’ve wanted to talk to you about everything that happened, but you’ve avoided me. I’m not sure about you, but I don’t want to keep making the wrong choices. Not when it comes to us.”

Ethan looked at the door, then back to me. His entire body was tense, and I knew he was ready to bolt any second.

Throwing all caution to the wind, I leaned forward and placed my hand back over his again, this time wrapping my fingers around his tightened fist. “I made some wrong choices eight years ago. Choices that stole too much time from us. I don’t plan on making any more tonight.”

His eyes widened in surprise as I continued to lean closer. With only a few inches separating us, he closed his eyes, his hand tightening under mine. I might never have another chance like this with him. I closed the distance and softly brushed my lips over his.

His entire body trembled, but he didn’t pull away. I waited until I felt his hand loosen just a fraction. “I’ve missed you, Ethan.”

I was about to pull away, when he leaned forward and pressed his lips more firmly to mine. My body thrummed when his tongue tentatively swept across my lips. Before I knew it, I had lifted my free hand and wrapped it around the back of his neck, pulling him harder against me. His answering groan parted his lips and soon my tongue was stroking against his, his taste more incredible than anything he had prepared tonight.

When I felt him pull back, my heart sank, but instead of pulling all the way back, he rested his forehead against mine.

“What are we doing here, Jamie? I’m so fucking confused.”

I smiled, trying to make sense out of it myself. “I don’t know. All I do know is I’m tired of running. I’m only asking we try again. If it doesn’t work out, we can go our separate ways. I just can’t live the rest of my life with a what-if. Can you?”

He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes. Emotions that I thought I’d long buried swirled inside me. Fear, confusion, hurt, frustration. But woven through all of that was a passion I hadn’t felt since before I left for Paris. As Ethan’s gaze dipped toward my lips, I took in a deep breath and sent up a silent prayer that he felt it too.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Ethan

This was why I’d tried to stay away. When he touched me I couldn’t think. Couldn’t remember anything but how we felt together.

If I was a smart man, I’d walk away. I’d walk away and pretend we’d ended for good when he chose to go to New York instead of coming home to Seattle. But I didn’t want to. I needed him as much as he needed me. We pissed each other off, pushed each other’s buttons and drove each other up the wall. And I was kidding myself if I thought I’d ever get Jamie Lassiter out of my system.

I gently tugged him out of his chair and onto my lap, close enough that I could almost taste the sweetness of the dessert I’d made on his lips. I hadn’t gotten this far in life by not taking risks. Even if this was a really stupid one.

“This is quite possibly the worst idea ever. If we’re going to try this, really try this, shouldn’t we be taking it slow?”

Jamie kissed me again, as every single emotion I’d tried to push down for years bubbled up. My eyes burned and I swallowed hard as I wrapped my arms around his waist.

“Slow is good.” He pulled back then smiled at me.

Against my better judgment, I tugged him back for a kiss, loving how I could feel his smile.

“Slow, remember?” he said between languid kisses. No one in the world kissed like Jamie. Like he couldn’t get enough of me and how we felt together. I reached up to cup his face in my hands as our kisses grew hungry.

“I hate slow. Worst idea ever.” I tried to hold back a smile. This felt too damn good.

His amused laugh tickled my lips before he pulled back, staring at me like he used to. I’d missed this—the way he’d looked at me like I made him happy. Once, I had. Before misunderstandings, miscommunication and his roommate had changed the trajectory of our future together.

“I missed you. I missed this.”

“Me too, Ethan.”

I grew impatient and plucked the buttons of his suit jacket open, then shoved it down his shoulders.

Jamie smiled and leaned down to kiss me. He moaned when I rubbed my hands up and down his thighs. Underneath my fingers, his muscles jumped. He slowly rocked forward as my hands slid down to squeeze his hips and his words vibrated against my skin. “I thought we were going to go slow.”

“This
is
slow for us.” Truth was, I wasn’t sure I could handle it if we went any slower. Eight years was just too fucking long to go slow.

Jamie tugged at the button snaps on my chef’s jacket as he matched my urgency. He pulled it down my arms and tossed it to the floor along with my black T-shirt, smoothing his palms over my abs.

I looked up at him as he slowly rocked his hips, his ass brushing against my erection. When I pulled his mouth down again for a kiss, Jamie’s lips parted wider, letting me in deeper, tangling his tongue with mine. He shuddered when he touched the tongue stud again. He’d always had a thing for my piercings.

His hands curled against my sides, his nails scraping over my ribs. Jamie pulled back just enough to slide his tie loose and over his head. As he unfastened the first few buttons on his shirt, I leaned forward and dipped my tongue into the hollow of his throat. He stilled for a moment, the need between us almost unbearable, then tore at the rest of his buttons, yanking his shirt from the waist of his pants in one movement. My entire body shook with desire as he undressed. He wanted this. Wanted me.

Jamie closed his eyes when I ran my fingers up and down his spine as he ground his cock against mine. He yanked his shirt and undershirt off, and I leaned forward and grazed his neck with my teeth.

We both paused as the warmth of his bare chest touched mine. His body was more defined than before, but he still fit against me perfectly.

He made an impatient sound. “Driving me crazy here.”

He watched my face as he slid his hands up my sides, fingertips tracing the ink along my shoulders.
Fuck.
His nails scraped over the barbell piercings in my nipples.

“I remember these.” Jamie’s hair tickled my chest as he leaned in to run his tongue over one of the barbells, tugging gently with his teeth as pleasure shot through my body. My fingers dug into his thighs as I ground my aching cock against his ass, cursing his pants and mine.

“You keep that up and we’re not going to make it to the bed.”

He smiled. “Who needs a bed when you have a table?”

I slid my hands under his ass, squeezing hard as I lifted his weight, boosting him to sit on the table. It used to drive him crazy when I’d manhandle him like this.

“You might owe a few more favors after this.” I grinned and hoped he wouldn’t be pissed.

I pushed the dishes and wine glasses out of the way impatiently, not giving a shit when glass and ceramic shattered on the floor. Jamie’s eyes flashed with lust and a mixture of something deeper as I covered his body with mine, letting my weight trap him against the table. I loved the low, ragged gasp he made when I pinned his hands to the table next to his head. He was mine, had always been mine, and I felt so hollow without him.

He pushed up against me. “Fuck, Ethan.”

“Who needs dessert when I can have you spread out on the table?”

His look of surprise was replaced by a deep-seated lust as he arched against me. When I loosened my grip on his wrists, he turned his palms to lay them against mine and our fingers intertwined. I missed this, feeling his hand in mine and I squeezed his fingers.

I ground my cock against his as I brushed my lips over his, licking and nipping them. “Fucking delicious.”

I breathed in the scent that was uniquely Jamie, woodsy and clean, as he slid his fingers into the messy length of my hair, tugging gently.

“Ethan, please.”

I dragged my tongue over his nipple, then closed my mouth over it. He squirmed, just like I’d known he would. I’d loved being the one who made him crazy with lust and love. Reveled in the fact he’d given me that right, then and now. “Eight years.”

His intense expression softened and he tugged my hair again.

“Come here, please.”

I
won’t be rushed.

I felt his laugh rumble through his chest as he leaned up slightly to lock his eyes on mine. “I’m not rushing you, but you’re making it hard to take things slow. Emphasis on the hard part.”

I blinked when I realized I had spoken out loud. He had to know I wanted him this much, right?

I shook it off and dropped to my knees. As quickly as I could, I slipped off his shoes and socks. Keeping my eyes on his, I popped open the button on his pants, and slid the zipper down just enough to see his cock straining against his boxer briefs. He shrugged out of his pants as I toed off my shoes, never once breaking eye contact.

I slid my fingers along the bulge in his boxer briefs, holding him still with the other hand as he struggled to grind against my palm. I pulled back to slip my fingers under the waistband of his briefs, sliding them completely off. Jesus, my cock ached. I got off on making him wait as a completely naked Jamie lay before me. His cock jutted heavy and thick against his stomach and made my mouth water.

Jamie watched as I ran my thumb over the drop of pre-come that had pearled at the tip. He struggled to keep his eyes open as my fingers ghosted over the shaft. Unable to wait any longer, I reached down with my free hand to tug at my jeans. Without warning, Jamie’s hand brushed across my hip and pushed my fingers out of the way. He popped the button on my pants and just barely skimmed the throbbing erection peeking over the top of my boxers.

He pushed all the way up and slipped his hands under my boxers and slid both them and my pants down my body, finally freeing my straining cock.

“It’s been too damn long since I’ve touched you, Ethan.”

The hungry look on his face as he reached out to stroke me pushed me toward the edge. I hastily kicked my pants off, then slipped my hands over his ass and pulled him to the edge of the table. The friction of our erections rubbing against each other drove my need to feel more of him even higher.

Not wanting to waste another minute, I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth. “I don’t suppose you have any lube here.”

He sunk his fingers deep into my hips, pulling me closer. Needy Jamie drove me insane. “In my bag. Bedroom is just through there.”

I pulled back, not wanting to ask the question suddenly burning in my brain.

His smile was small, but genuine. He ran his hand through my unruly hair, his nails scraping against my scalp. My eyes closed in pleasure and I leaned into Jamie’s touch. I needed this. But I needed him more. “I haven’t been with anyone else since you were in New York. I was hopeful about tonight. That’s all. Nothing more.”

The enormity of what we were about to do suddenly hit me. If we slept together it wasn’t just sex. It was everything. I couldn’t pick the pieces up again if he decided he was done with whatever we started here. “Are you sure—”

“Be here with me, Ethan. Focus on what’s important right now. Remember?”

I swallowed hard. Those words had gotten me through school, but more importantly had forged a deep connection between us that still survived to this day.

“Don’t overthink this, Ethan. We’ve done that enough. This is just you and me. Nothing else matters right now.”

When I opened my eyes, Jamie watched me steadily. He had always been the braver one between us. I took a deep breath, nodded and took off in the direction he’d pointed. My cock throbbed as I palmed myself, trying to regain some control as I entered the suite’s master bedroom. The time for thinking would come later but right now all I could focus on was burying myself inside Jamie Lassiter as quickly as possible.