the hook-up. {ethma}

chapter 37

emma chamberlain

FUCK, FUCK, FUCK a duck. I stride through the parking lot, paid wine in hand, my head pounding in time with my frantic heartbeat. I hate what I just saw. Hate it. My stomach turns and my mouth fills with saliva. I want to go back there and grab that little skank by her hair and smash her face into the cabernet section.

My fingers fumble with the car key, which shakes as I turn the lock and wrench open the door.

I know who she is. Jenny. The nasty little bitch who tried to ruin Ethan's life when he wouldn't roll over for her. I know because the twat had on a pink football jersey—a size too small—with the name "Jenny" printed along the back. Gag. I cannot believe Ethan went out with someone who wears clothes with her name on them.

Obviously, she wants to try again now that he's vulnerable. God, the way she looked at him, like some cat all set to lick up the cream. Bitch.

"Emma!" Ethan can move pretty fast on crutches if motivated. He practically flies across the parking lot, his eyes wild and his face pale. "Wait."

I get in the car and turn it on, loving the way it roars to life beneath me. This is Ethan's car, and I don't really care, because I'm about to drive away from his ass in it. Before I can slam the door closed, however, he grabs it, hopping a little as he leans a hip against the car.

"I can explain." He is panting now, sweat dripping down his temple.

"Just the words a girl longs to hear," I mutter. Heat prickles behind my eyes. Not now. I need a breather.

The bitch walks out of the store, hovering there and watching us with interest. She'll be here to pick up the pieces should I lay into Ethan now.

He doesn't even look her way. His eyes, wide and pained, drill into me. "You have to know that—"

"At the house," I snap. "Now get out of the way."

"No." He leans in, grabbing at my hand with his clammy one. "Talk to me."

"Not. Here." I give a pointed look in the bitch's direction. "I am not doing this with an audience."

Shockingly, he steps back and gives a short nod. "Okay." He holds up a hand. "Okay, but I'm following you."

Good to his word, he follows right behind me as I drive home. Even though I long to do it, I don't speed but keep a steady pace and take deep breaths the whole way home. My hands are cold and sweaty on the steering wheel.

I want to throw up. I want to cry. Ethan is slipping away from me. And I don't know if I can handle the situation.

Once home, I slam out of the car, only to hear Ethan drive up and do the same. I say nothing as I let myself in and set the wine on the kitchen counter. By the time he's inside and shutting the door, I'm rinsing off my hot face with cool water.

"Emma." His voice is soft, coaxing as he comes closer. "Baby, I know that looked bad, but—"

"It's okay." I turn to face him, taking in his pasty complexion and confused frown. "It's okay, Ethan."

His heel thumps against the floor as he limps up to me. "Not that I want to fight," he begins slowly, "but I've been close to losing my mind with fear for the past twenty minutes, so can you explain this to me?" His brows rise, but he looks pained as he stares down at me. "Because I'm at a loss here."

I rest my hand over his cold one, and instantly he captures it, threading his fingers through mine and holding tight as if I might run. The gesture makes me smile even though I'm suddenly so exhausted that I want to lie down. He's in a panic. Not that I blame him. The scene that I stumbled into looked very cozy to someone on the outside.