New York Girl (formerly known as Maple Street)

Chapter Sixteen

Walking back to the cabin seemed to take forever, trying my best not to slip under the ice was a challenge – but no way near as challenging as choking back the puddles of tears, bursting at the corners of my eyes. Only two images were in my mind- him and her. Even the drunken crowd of party- goers knew not to hurl any abuse at me as they walked by me – it must have been the panda eyes that gave me away - Clever drunk people.

Standing in front of the two steps leading into the cabin, I contemplated my options; shall I bed down with Imogen and Ivy the evil receptionist for the night? Imagine that – sharing a tiny room with Ivy – she might kill me in my sleep – I mean it was possible – the thought of her pouty lips lingering above me as I slept scared me half to death.  I could always sleep outside in the snow, but the thought of hypothermia was no way near as attractive as the Ivy scenario. I slumped down onto a step realizing how screwed I was – royally screwed.

The crunching sound of footsteps coming up from behind – startled me so –I half was – expecting to see Jack Nicholson badgering a knife of some kind repeating the words ‘all work and no play, all work and no play’ if it wasn’t for Ethan standing a few feet away I would have probably freaked out and ended up staying with Imogen and the pouty lipped wench just to get away from the ideology that snow and darkness always reminded me of The Shining – always.

Jumping up from the step – I fumbled inside my coat pocket for the key and twisted it with such force the door shuddered upon opening.

Unbuttoning my coat – I threw it down on the bed – the only one in the room – if he thought for one second we would be sharing he had another thing coming.

'Knock, knock.' Wrapping his head around the door, he tapped gently onto the frame and stepped inside. I went for the whole keep – your – mouth - shut and give - him  -enough - rope  -to hang - himself approach. But did it work? No. Not on confident Ethan – he started whistling- which he was annoyingly good at. I couldn’t whistle to save my life but there he was eyebrows raised, lips rounded into a perfect O bopping his head to the airy sounds coming out of his mouth.

To hell with him – I’m going to make some tea I thought – a typical British resolution I know but also a great way to throw some distance between us.

It wasn’t long before the whistling grew nearer and then literally gained in on me - but I refused to look, or to play into his demand for attention.

He was probably used to the birds flocking around him to the sound of his mating call but not me. Inches apart now, he jumped up onto the side counter, his timing couldn’t have been better as the kettle threw out a loud whistle matching his. I was so darn angry.

Both whistles had stopped and I wasn’t sure what was worse that or the screeching silence –I was trying to move away and walk off like the independent strong Beyonce type woman that I was but my feet were stuck, honestly. Stretching out his legs from the counter, he slowly pulled me towards him, his eyes fixed on mine and the slits at the bottom of his cheeks appeared more defined as he clenched his jawline.

Tilting his head, he moved up to my neck and his warm breath gave me goose bumps all over. My pathetic attempt at pushing him away was almost laughable and propelled him even more so - gently tugging on the loop holes of my belt, he pressed up against me allowing his lips to linger against mine – it was just enough to set off two things inside me; desire and anger.

Luckily the latter came through, chopping his hands away from my sides, I bolted out of the kitchen, tea still in hand and walked into the bedroom.

‘Lucy, what’s wrong?’ If only his voice wasn’t so damn husky, I could’ve actually offered up an impressive combination of limited but appropriate expletives mixed with a heartfelt Joey Potter monologue that will leave him so dumbfounded if not a little bit in awe but unfortunately that was all left at the door.

Instead I opted for some rapid tea sipping in an attempt to calm my nerves.

'I asked you a question.’

 He gently took the cup from my hand and honed in on me again. The smell of his aftershave lingered in the air and became a lot stronger as he dipped his head towards my neck again, this time; tracing his tongue along my neck.

'Stop Ethan – please just stop.’

At first he did, looking up at me with those slanting, smiley blue eyes before he started the tongue tracing again but all I could see was her.

‘Did you not hear me the first time? Get off me.’

'What’s wrong?’ he whispered, making his way up to my ear.

'What do you mean? You’re my boss and I’m not doing this!’

'Don’t play dumb Lucy - we both know it’s more than just a working relationship.’

'Do I? I’m afraid I have no idea what you are talking about.’

He backed away a little and his smiley eyes took on a questioning look. ‘That’s not what you said a few weeks ago.’

I pushed by him and threw my arms inside my coat.

 'So you're going to run away?’

'I’m really sorry Ethan but this is just not appropriate.’

I was just about to open the door but he quickly dived into the small space, leaving me no choice but to face him head on. ‘Say that again?’ he said, ‘Come on, I want to hear you say that you haven’t noticed me in the last few months. Huh. Come on. Say it.’

‘Ethan, just let me go. It’s not worth losing our jobs over.’

‘Who said anything about losing jobs?’

'It’s inevitable, please just let it go.’

‘You can do that? Just let it go?’

His eyes searched mine and it wasn’t just the cold that hurled through me that night.

It certainly wasn’t a rational decision and there wasn’t a whiff of logic in sight. And they say that’s love – apparently.