Forced Proximity (Bluebell House Duet Book 1)
Forced Proximity: Chapter 16

For once, I didn’t get to class early. I dithered outside, drinking my iced coffee, until the very last minute before ducking into class and replaceing a random seat at the back of the room. I didn’t give Andrew and Brodie the opportunity to sit with me, and I sure as fuck wasn’t leaving myself open to chatting with Professor Sullivan before class.

As it turned out, my effort was for nothing. Brodie spotted me, packed up his shit, and moved to where I sat. Except there weren’t any spare seats.

“Jessica, right?” he asked the girl I’d chosen to sit beside.

She looked up at him in awe, her mouth open and her eyes wide as she nodded.

Brodie flashed that literal million-dollar smile. “Can I sit there, Jessica?”

Poor girl nearly tripped over her feet she stood up so fast, and I stifled a sigh as Brodie slid into her place instead. Ethan had started the class and didn’t say anything about the commotion which was…odd. Wasn’t it? He didn’t usually tolerate shit from anyone, but the last few days had proven he and Brodie had known each other a long-ass time.

“Hey, bestie,” he whispered as he got out his things once more.

Warmth infused in my chest, and I was replaceing it harder and harder to remember that Brodie was a world-famous, rich, gorgeous playboy who would most definitely break my heart when his fascination with me had run its course.

“Hey, bestie,” I whispered back, because I wasn’t ready to stop playing his games yet.

The lonely, broken parts of me that had started with the death of my mom and were made worse when dad left me in the care of two virtual strangers craved love and the deeper bonds of a true family. “I missed you this morning,” he added, his deep blue eyes shining as he propped his head on his hand and stared my way. “Why are you always running out of the house at the crack of dawn? We’re starting to think you’re avoiding us.”

And they’d be correct. “I can’t fall behind on schoolwork, and I replace it easier to study in the library.”

Brodie’s lips twitched. “Eth said you weren’t there, babe. I’ll give you some time to try again.”

Fuck. I had to press my lips together to prevent laughter from spilling free. I was busted, but Brodie, thankfully, didn’t give me too much shit about it as he nudged me gently and got back to his notes.

For the rest of class, we actually paid attention to Ethan, and I was struck once again by how clever and patient he was. I’d never had a professor explain complex terms in such an easy-to-understand way, and while I was attracted to his looks, of course, it was his personality that really sealed the deal on my interest for the professor.

He’d shown real care toward me on more than one occasion, calming me when no one else in the world would have been able to. He’d taken away my pain and fear and hurt.

Maybe for once, this wasn’t about me attaching when I shouldn’t. Or at least it wasn’t still about my attachment issues. It could build to something real. It was just super frustrating that the one guy who was able to offer me both attraction and peace was also forbidden.

He’d asked me to meet him at the library, but I’d decided it was too risky; I couldn’t live with myself if I got him fired.

Not that I’d ever admit it to Brodie, no matter how long he gave me to come up with another story, but a large part of my reason for avoiding the house was avoiding Ethan. It was either avoid him or jump him in the halls and demand he ease the ache he’d created that first day in the library.

When everyone started to pack up around me, I realized class was over and I’d missed the last third of the lecture. Not that it was a huge deal, since I’d already read ahead and had a solid grasp of the concepts we were working on. Brodie stayed with me as we walked down the aisle to exit, only for Ethan to call my name. “Evelyn, would you stay back for a few minutes? I’ve got a question about your last online quiz submission.”

Every week Ethan got us to fill in a short quiz and questionnaire, in the hopes of catching issues early on. I had found it easy enough this week, so I wouldn’t be surprised if this wasn’t about the quiz at all.

No one looked my way, already involved in their own world as they left; Brodie was the only one to stay. “We should wait and talk at the house this afternoon,” I said to Ethan, offering him a warm smile.

He remained by his desk, expression neutral as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Evidence suggests that’s not going to happen. I’d prefer to speak with you now, since this is your only class for the day, and you’ve got nowhere else to go.”

Brodie wrapped his arm around my shoulders and gave a quick squeeze. “Get it over with, Evie babe,” he said, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

His lips were warm, and as his breath fanned across my face, I barely resisted the urge to turn my head slightly and bring our mouths closer together. Brodie Keller was potent, and when he left the room, I was both frazzled and flustered.

A deadly combination now that I was alone with Ethan.

“Are you doing okay?” he asked quietly, remaining against his desk. “Andrew mentioned you had a pretty bad nightmare the other night, and we all know that’s not been the only one.”

My throat grew tighter as I recalled the reasons why I was having nightmares. Maybe it was time to try and replace another therapist, but the thought of having to spill my entire history again had my skin itching and the urge to run strengthening—not to mention there was some risk involved with it.

The shooter was still out there, and a simple changing of my last name and a purple sheen in my hair didn’t mean he wouldn’t recognize me if my identity was spilled. Equally as bad, in my last school, I’d been looked at with pity, hate, and even fear.

I didn’t want that to happen here.

But there was an NDA. That protected me as well as the others, right?

“You’re bound by the NDA too, correct?”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “I am. But you wouldn’t need it to trust me with your secrets.”

Weirdly, I believed him. “In my last college, I was involved in a school shooting. When Connor pulled that gun on me, it triggered me badly enough that I’ve gone back to the horrendous nightmares and insomnia that I experienced just after the attack.”

Intense therapy had helped me move to a place where I could sleep without drugs and only the occasional nightmare, and it was so frustrating that I’d stumbled so far back.

Ethan’s arms twitched, as if he wanted to reach out for me, but he maintained his current position. “Eve. Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

He closed his eyes briefly, as if fighting against himself, and I ended up being the one to step closer; Ethan constantly drew me into his orbit. Even with my issues, I’d never felt such an instant bond as I did with this man.

“I’m really okay,” I lied, wanting to ease his distress. Not to mention, I still worked on the theory that if I said it enough, it’d eventually be true. “This regression was absolutely to be expected with all the changes in my life. New situations bring on the panic attacks, which is what you saw that first day in the library.”

And then again with Connor, the fucking psychopath.

As if he couldn’t help himself, Ethan reached for me, his thumb gentle as it brushed across my cheek. “I’m so fucking sorry that happened to you. Were you hurt?”

I silently nod, my throat working as I tried to explain just how badly. “I—I almost died.” I sucked in a breath to try and calm my frantically beating heart. “He shot me in the back.” My hand moved toward my side, where I’d felt the first piercing pain. “It took months of rehab to get to where I’m at now, and I probably won’t ever be able to play sports again like I used to.”

I’d been on the soccer and track teams at my old college. Fuck. I’d lost so much and pushing it all aside in the hopes that I’d eventually move on wasn’t cutting it any longer.

“Who was it that hurt you?”

I felt his rasp all the way to my center, and this time I couldn’t speak for other reasons. Ethan Sullivan was a fucking nice distraction from the worst day of my life, especially when he wore a murderous stare like he wanted a few minutes alone with my shooter.

“They never caught him. By now they assume he’s changed his name and identity. Possibly even left the country…they don’t believe he’s still a threat to me.”

He straightened and the darkness wreathing his features called to me on a primal level. I’d been subconsciously seeking out safe but dangerous men ever since that attack, and Ethan was no different. “He won’t ever hurt you again, okay? Not while you’re here. That includes the nightmares. It doesn’t matter what time of the day or night you need distraction or to talk, I want you to replace me.”

Before I thought through my actions, I was throwing myself into his arms. There was a moment of shocked hesitation before Ethan wrapped me up so tightly, holding all of me together.

I wasn’t fixed. Not even close. But Ethan did what he had done best since the first time I ran into him: he eased my pain.

“Don’t run from me,” he whispered against my hair. “I won’t ask for anything you’re not ready to give, and I’ll always be your friend, sweetheart. I’ll be the best friend you’ve ever had. Just stop running. It’s stressful when I don’t know where you are or if you’re safe.”

A sobbed laugh escaped me. “You’ll have to fight Brodie for the best friend title.”

Against my hair, I felt Ethan smile. “I’ll kick that spoiled punk’s ass.”

I loosened my grip on him, intending to step away, but somehow, as I tipped my head back to look up at him, our lips brushed. I froze, holding my breath, but then Ethan released the smallest of groans, and my control shattered.

The last two times we’d kissed had been in the height of a panic attack. They’d served to shock me out of the dark corner of my mind and redirect my focus to something a whole lot more enjoyable. But this time, it was entirely different. My fingers threaded into the back of his short hair, and I pulled him down to me, crushing our lips together and eliminating any question of whether I was still attracted to him.

Fuck the rules. He wasn’t that much older than me anyway. Maybe four or five years? That was my guess, and that hardly constituted it as an “age gap” by romance book standards.

He moaned again as our tongues met, and the sound did incredible things to my insides. Why was that such a turn-on?

“Eve…” he groaned between kisses. “Lilith…”

I grinned, loving how he’d coined my sexy, sultry alter-ego name. One of his hands was tangled in my hair and the other gripped my ass so tight, I mentally cursed myself for not wearing a skirt. If not for the pesky jeans, he could just⁠—

“Yo. Ethan, dude. So not okay.” Brodie’s voice cut through our make-out session like nails on a chalkboard. “For one thing, you’re in the middle of an unlocked classroom where literally anyone could walk in. For another, you’re her teacher! Do I need to remind you about abusing your power?”

“Brodie…just fuck off,” Ethan growled, not letting me go. In fact, he dipped back in and kissed my throat while I stared in panic at Brodie. Crap, now my imagination was playing out a fantasy where Brodie came over and joined us…

But no, he just scowled and shook his head, arms folded across his broad chest. “I’ll say it again: literally anyone could walk in. Or did you want to get fired and removed from campus for indecent conduct?”

Shit. That was the wake-up call I needed, and I peeled myself out of Ethan’s embrace.

“I should go,” I muttered, not meeting his gaze. “I have a study session this afternoon.”

Ethan gusted out a long sigh. “We can talk later. You’ll be home for dinner, right? I’m cooking chicken parmesan.”

Something about the way he’d asked those questions struck a chord in my chest and I nodded. “Yep. See you then.”

It wasn’t until I brushed past Brodie and all but ran from that class that I realized why I had such intense butterflies. Home. He’d asked if I’d be home for dinner…like we really were a family.

For the first time since I was six, when mom died, there was a real sense of belonging in this world. Belonging in Bluebell House, and even though Andrew and Connor kept their distance, the other three were becoming both familiar and important to me.

That was another part of what I’d been running from, these feelings of belonging.

Belonging meant it could be torn away, and I wasn’t sure I’d survive it again.