“Please…don’t,” I said, quite willing to beg if I needed to. “You said before you didn’t want to say the wrong thing and fuck this up. I didn’t want to either, but I have. Please, let me try to fix it. Give me a chance, please, Ethan.”
He halted and dropped his hand from the doorknob but didn’t look back at me.
“I know I shouldn’t care what people think,” I said, wiping my eyes with my sleeve. “But I always have. Everyone I know is so focused on what people look like, what they’re wearing, where they bought their shoes. Who you are with is a big part of that—the right person, the right family. I’ve never known anyone like you before. I mean, the first things people see are the piercings and the tattoos. I’m afraid I just won’t know how to cope with their reactions to you. I’ve had at least fifteen phone calls from people since Presley saw you, and I haven’t even answered them because I don’t know what to say!”
“Do they bother you?” he asked. “The tattoos and the piercings?”
“When I first saw you, yes,” I answered. I wanted to be as truthful as possible. “Not bother, necessarily, but your appearance is very different from what I’m used to. I was so flustered when you came up to talk to me, I didn’t know how to react.”
“What about now? You still don’t like them?”
“Now I like them,” I said.
“They took a little getting used to, and I think I was kind of intimidated by them at first. But you were so…sweet. You caught me off guard, and I’m glad you did.”
“Why?”
“Because I really like you, Ethan. I wanted to get to know you better, and I still do, but I don’t know how to deal with everyone else in my life. Appearances have always been very important, and I don’t know any other way.”
Ethan finally looked back up to me, his eyes narrowed.
“When I realized you were upset because I hugged you in front of your friend, it really hurt,” he said. His voice was frighteningly deadpan, considering his words. “I know I tend to get a little overly emotional about stupid shit, but that wasn’t stupid to me. I didn’t know what to think. I thought you liked me and accepted me the way I was. When I realized you really didn’t…”
“But I do!” I cried. “It doesn’t matter to me now, and I would never want you to change anything. I just don’t…I don’t…”
“Want anyone else to know?” He raised his eyebrow and nodded his head. “Yeah, I got that idea. I can’t be that way, Ashlyn. When you left my place Sunday, I came over here and told everyone about you. I told them how great you were and how much I liked you. I told them about you reading to me—and that part even made Faith cry. All I could think about was how much I wanted them to meet you and for you to be included in things we do as a group. I didn’t realize I was going to be an embarrassment to you or that you wouldn’t even tell anyone about me. I thought…I thought you felt what I felt. I thought when we made love…shit, Ashlyn.”
He turned away for a second, his right hand moving up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“I did feel that,” I whispered.
“If you had felt what I felt, you would have…fuck, it doesn’t matter.” Ethan shook his head, ran his hands through his hair, and yanked a cigarette out of his pocket with his right hand, quickly grasped it out of his fingers with his left hand, and then put the cigarette back in his shirt pocket.
“I just need some time, Ethan,” I said. “I need to…process some of this. I need to figure out what to tell my friends and…”
“I’m not going to be in a relationship like that,” Ethan said. His eyes were dark, and his nostrils flared a little as he spoke. “I don’t want to be explained to the people in your life before I meet them. If I can’t just…be me with you…shit. Forget it. I really don’t have anything else to say.”
He spun to his right, and his right hand grasped the doorknob and started to turn it. At the same time, his left hand reached out and tightened securely, though not painfully, around my wrist.
“Ethan?” I looked down at his fingers gripping my wrist as he turned and started to twist the handle.
“No, Ashlyn,” he said sharply, and then his voice went back to calm and cold. “I’m done here. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”
Ethan continued to open the door, but at the same time, the fingers of his left hand strengthened their grip and pulled on my arm sharply. I stumbled forward, lost my balance, and bumped into him, almost falling over. Ethan turned his head back, his eyes scowling and his brows drawn in anger or confusion; I wasn’t sure which. His fingers didn’t release their grip.
Suddenly, the door opened up all the way, and a tiny woman, barely five feet tall and the complete opposite of Andrea in appearance, peeked out from the edge of the door, eyeing first Ethan and then me. I heard her exhale sharply through her nose before her gaze left mine and went back to Ethan’s.
“Ethan—” she said.
“Faith, I want her gone,” Ethan said, his voice still calm and emotionless.
Faith looked at his face, and then I watched her eyes travel down his arm and to my wrist. She glanced up at me, but I couldn’t understand her expression.
“Ethan,” the little brunette said quietly. “I’m not so sure you want that.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Look at your hand, Ethan.”