The Temptation of Lila and Ethan (24 page)

He shifts his weight and then sweeps his fingers through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes. “Because… you’re not…” He’s struggling and I’m twistedly finding it amusing. “You’re not applying to be a stripper, are you?” His gaze locks on me and fury burns in his eyes.

Without taking my eyes off him, I sit down on the foot of
my bed. “Why would it matter if I was? I thought you
loved
strippers.”

He shrugs, casually leaning against the door. “It doesn’t matter, but it’s not the place for you. You’re too…” His gaze skims my entire body, making even the coolness of the air conditioning feel stifling.

“Too what?” I press.

His attention lingers on my chest and then he blinks, fixing his eyes on my face. “It’s nothing… you just don’t fit in a place like that.”

I bend my knee and unfasten my sandal, wiggling my foot out. “I think a lot of people would disagree with you.” I shake my chest and then roll my eyes. “What else am I good for?”

He remains by the doorway, grasping on to the doorknob. “You’re good for a lot of things, you just don’t see it.”

Okay, so that was a little bit sweet. “Like what exactly?” I toss my sandal into the closet without getting up. “I can’t do anything by myself. I mean, you had to teach me to work the dishwasher for crying out loud.”

He lets go of the doorknob and sits down beside me on the bed while I take off my other sandal. “So what? Everyone has to learn sometime. You’re just learning a little bit later than most people.”

“Because I’m a spoiled brat who had a maid.”

“You don’t any more, though. You’re becoming an independent, strong Lila.” He winks at me and gives me a lopsided grin. “And that Lila doesn’t belong in a strip club.”

I think I may have just fallen in love with him. No one has ever said something so nice to me or put that kind of confidence in my character. In fact, I’ve been told the opposite for as long as I can remember.
Lila, you’ll never make it. Lila, you’re worthless. Lila, you’re messing up this family. No one will ever love you if you don’t change into something they can love. Be perfect. Be beautiful. Because no one will want you if you’re not.

“Even though I know you’re to going to get annoyed with me for saying it,” I begin, slipping my foot out of my sandal, “you’re seriously really sweet when you want to be.”

He frowns with annoyance. “I’m not sweet. I’m actually really, really mean.”

“You’re so full of it.” Once I get my shoe off, I flop back on the bed, not bothering to tug my shirt down when it rides up over my stomach. “I have to take more of my clothes down to that store tomorrow because I’m running out of money. Can you give me a ride? Or can I borrow your truck?”

He lies down beside me on the bed, surprising me, and turns his head toward me. “You say that like it’s the most tragic thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“It kind of is.” I pout with my arms overlapped on my stomach and my gaze fixed on the ceiling. “As shallow as it’s going to sound, I love my clothes.”

“You’ll get over it.” He runs his finger along my exposed stomach, right above the scar hidden behind the waistband of my shorts, and I fight back the urge to shiver and moan. “Besides, you’re not dressed up all fancy now.” He props up on
his elbow, keeping his fingers on my stomach, although I’m not even sure he realizes they’re there. He peers down at my tight, purple T-shirt that Ella left behind and my denim shorts I’ve never worn until today. “And you look pretty fucking good.”

“I’m dressed this way because of where I applied.” I have to work to keep my lungs moving as he continues to trace his fingers back and forth across my stomach. The insides of my thighs are starting to shake, more than any other time a guy has touched me. “I had to play the part.”

“And what part is that?” He cocks an eyebrow and then playfully pinches my stomach right above my belly button and a hot sensation coils deep within me. “Come on, just tell me where you might be working because I’ll end up finding out anyway.”

I begrudgingly sigh. “Fine… at Danny’s Happenin’ Bar and Entertainment.”

His fingers stop moving and his eyebrows arch. “The one on the old strip?”

I nod, avoiding eye contact with him. “Yep, that’d be the one.”

His fingers stay on my stomach for what seems like forever, blinding me with heat and deafening me with desire. I’m so relieved by the time he pulls them away because I swear I’m seriously on the verge of having an orgasm. “You dance?”

I tilt my head toward him, finally encountering his gaze. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

He wavers, chewing on his lip. “It’s just hard to picture you dancing… like that.”

“What? Slutty? I don’t see why you’d be surprised about that.”

“It’s not slutty,” he says, still seeming puzzled as his eyes do a quick sweep of my body. “It’s… sexy and kind of erotic, at least from what I can remember. It’s been a while since I’ve been down there.”

“It’s not that sexy… I mean, I don’t take my clothes off or anything,” I explain. “It’s just dancing at a bar and sometimes on the bar, depending on what night. I get to wear normal clothes… well, normal tight clothes. And eventually they’ll teach me how to bartend.”

“I know what it is, Lila.” His hand lazily scrolls up my body again and I swear to God I’m going to melt from the heat emitting from his eyes. Then he catches sight of his fingers on my stomach and, blinking at them, he quickly pulls his hand away.

I sit up, no longer wanting to be on the bed with him because I’m seriously about ready to straddle his lap and force myself on him. “Look, I really need to get some rest.” I climb off the bed and backtrack to the door, opening it wider so he’ll get the hint to leave and let me be horny for him in peace.

He doesn’t get up, only pushes up on his elbows. “You want me to leave?” He fakes a sexy pout, trying to be mocking, but it comes off more mouthwatering than anything. “I
thought you were going to show me the moves you used when you applied.”

I place my hand on my hip and give him an overdramatic look of aggravation. “Ethan, seriously, stop teasing me. I only had to fill out an application so far. Besides, you really don’t want to see me dance. You just want to try to make me blush or something.”

“Why would I ever want to do that?”

“Because… I have no idea. You tell me.”

He sits up and crosses his arms, his muscles flexing. “It’s just something to think about. You could practice on me.” He smirks. “I’m an excellent judge.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m sure you are.”

He chuckles under his breath, totally pleased with himself, and then he stands up. “Are you sure you want me to leave? I mean, I’m assuming that’s why you’re standing by the door, looking all hot and bothered.”

I open my mouth to say, “Get out please,” but nothing comes out. I never want him to leave, which is really bad. I could blame it on the fact that I like his company, but the fact of the matter is that I need him. “You want to watch a movie or something?”

He smiles broadly. “A sappy, poetic one maybe?”

I point a finger at him. “You know they don’t exist. We tried to find one on Netflix, remember?”

He sits up, ruffling his hair into place. “I’m sure one exists,
we just haven’t looked hard enough… but we can watch a movie.”

“Which one?”

“Whatever you want?”

I raise my eyebrows to express my doubt. “And what if I say the girliest movie ever?”

He yawns, stretching his arms above his head, showing off his rock-hard abs and the artful ink on his skin. “Then I guess I’ll finally get a nap. I’ve been wanting to take one all day.”

I roll my eyes, but smile. “I secretly think you like girly movies,” I say as we head out into the living room.

He shakes his head, but I hear him laugh under his breath. “Not the movie, just the company that comes along with it.”

I don’t say anything, because I can’t. I’ve never been around guys before who have complimented me on anything besides my tits and my ass. I situate myself on the couch while Ethan boots up the Xbox so we can stream Netflix. Grabbing the remote, he sits down on the couch beside me. He sits closer than I anticipated, his knee resting against mine and it feels almost painfully good, to the point where my body feels like it’s going to explode from the tension and heat, and while I hate it, I also love it because I’ve never felt it before. It’s crazy and strange, like I’m a virgin again or something, and it alters my entire thought process. For the first time in my life, I picture myself sitting next to him, doing this exact same thing ten years down the road. We would be living in the same shitty
apartment and Ethan would still be working his job in construction because he never graduated from college and I don’t think he cares enough to do anything more with his life. And I won’t be going anywhere, since I could barely get a job as a dancer at some skanky run-down bar. I would still be wearing an outfit I got off a clearance rack and we would have the same crappy furniture because Ethan hates fancy stuff and we couldn’t afford it between our crappy salaries. But despite poverty, everything would be okay. In fact, I can actually envision myself happy, even if I were poor. I’ve had everything before, material-wise at least, and look where it got me. Addicted to pills, struggling to take care of myself, and bearing all the emotional trauma I couldn’t deal with because I’d been taught it was wrong to show emotions that were anything but perfect and pretty. I feel so content right now and I want to keep feeling content. Genuinely content.

Ethan drapes his arm on the back of the sofa and his fingers brush my hair away from my neck. He starts searching through the movies, asking me questions about them, and I answer with minimal responses because I’m too engulfed in what’s happening to my body and mind. There’s so much clearness in it and I’m hyperaware of everything, from the way his lip is slightly swollen from where he chews on it to the intoxicating scent of him. I can even feel the heat flowing off his body, enflaming my skin and he’s not even touching me. It’s amazing. Clear. Undiluted. Is this what I’ve been missing? All these years? Is this what things are supposed to feel like?
Warm and heart pounding, instead of cold and silent. If it is, though, then what the heck am I supposed to do with it?

A little bit into the movie Ethan falls asleep and he slumps over, putting his head onto my shoulder. I’m fairly sure he has no idea that he did it and I wonder what he’ll think when he wakes up. I let him stay there, running my fingers through his hair, across his nose, his jawline, his lips, like a creeper touching someone in their sleep. I can’t help it though. He’s got such soft skin and amazing lips. I wonder what they’d taste like if our mouths finally came into contact with each other.

I’m smiling at the thought when he starts muttering in his sleep. At first it’s really quiet and it almost sounds like he’s saying “Lila.” But then he starts to get louder and I realize he’s saying “London, don’t leave me… Please, stay… I need you…”

London? Is it a person? If so, Ethan’s never mentioned a London before. Who could they be? A girlfriend? But if they are then why has he never introduced us? An endless list of things runs through my mind and I realize that even though he sleeps around, the idea of him having a girlfriend is like a knife to the heart. Sex is meaningless, but a girlfriend he could care about.

Maybe even love.

Ethan

“Oh, Ethan,” London singsongs as she skips through a field. There’s a bonfire burning near the trees in the distance and the smoke rises to the starry sky. There’s a party going on and people are laughing,
shouting, drinking, having sex and London is out in the field skipping like the strange girl that she is.

“What are you doing?” I ask, drinking my beer as I walk slowly behind her, watching her move through the field of tall grass and weeds. “You’re going to get us lost.”

She spins around and around, with her head tipped back, her dark hair blending with the night. “I’m having fun.” She spins again and then stops as I reach her. “How about you?” she asks, breathless.

I knock back the rest of the beer and then crush the cup, throwing it into the dirt. “What about me?”

She grins, walking toward me, swaying her hips. “Are you having fun?”

“I’m having a blast,” I say flatly, placing my hands on her hips.

She frowns. “Well, that sounds convincing.”

I sigh, letting my head fall forward so it’s pressed against hers. “Sorry, I’m just tired. And there are too many people over at the party for my taste.”

“You can be such a party pooper,” she says. “But only half the time. And then sometimes you’re totally into it.”

“I’m totally into it when I’m either drunk or stoned,” I admit. “But when I’m sober, it drives me crazy.”

She pauses, hooking her finger through my belt loop. “Sometimes I think you’re going to just pack up and leave and go wandering off on your own.”

I don’t answer right away, moving my forehead away from
hers so I can look her in the eye. “I sometimes think about it. Just packing up and hitting the road.”

“Would you take me with you if you do?”

“Would you want to go with me?”

“Maybe… I don’t know.” She doesn’t look like she wants to. “Would you want me to go with you?”

“Maybe,” I say, but honestly I’m not sure. I really like her, more than any other girl out there, but there are times when I do think about leaving not just my life behind, but everyone in it.

“You’re such an ass,” she says. “I can’t believe you wouldn’t want to take me with you.”

“I never said that,” I tell her.

“But you didn’t completely deny it,” she retorts.

Silence grows around us and she holds on to me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Okay, I take my ‘maybe’ back. I want to go with you but only so you can take me away from this place—my life.” Her voice is flat, saddened, devoid of any emotion. She gets this way sometimes when she’s talking about her life.

I kiss the top of her head. “What’s so bad about your life?”