Chapter 3

3

I changed into a black lace nightgown, quietly went to Ethan's door, posed in what I thought was the most alluring angle according to the internet, and gently knocked.

The door opened, and Ethan visibly froze.

He looked around, dazed, as if searching for something to cover me with, but gave up.

After a few moments of eye contact, his gaze deepened. His voice was husky as he finally asked, "Amelia, are you sure?"

After I nodded, he lifted me and carried me to the bed.

The dim room was lit only by a warm yellow bedside lamp.

I felt the weight of another person on top of me.

His warmth spread across my face, shoulders, back, and waist. His hands, his kisses, ignited a burning sensation wherever they touched. I felt like my whole body was on fire.

My mind was a blur, my body limp as I let him do as he pleased.

Turning my head, I saw the pristine white sheets and had the absurd thought: these sheets are so white, it'll be really obvious if they get stained.

But I never got to find out.

Because just as I finished melting into a puddle, and Ethan was about to take his clothes off, his phone rang.

Ethan took a few deep breaths, his breath hot against my skin. He propped himself up on one arm, reaching for his phone on the nightstand.

"Dr. Shaw, Mr. Fuller has been drinking heavily and is in a lot of pain. Can you come over?"

A worried male voice came from the other end. It sounded familiar, like someone I'd heard around one of the trust fund guys before.

Ethan paused for a moment. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. "I understand. I'll be there soon."

I snapped back to reality, grabbing his half-removed shirt. A strange emotion welled up inside me as I mumbled, "Don't go!"

Ethan's eyes met mine. He bent down and gently nibbled my lip, soothingly saying, "Be good. I'll just go check on him."

As he dressed to leave, my anger flared. I stared at his back, cursing him silently: "Be good? Go check on him? Yeah, right. Who knows if it's a 'bro' or a 'bae' you're checking on."

He paused mid-motion, turning back to look at me with a complicated expression.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He shook his head and continued getting dressed.

I continued my inner monologue: "Go ahead, go! No one can stop you, you saint! Ambulances are useless, hospitals are useless, it's like you have magic powers, only you can help…"

After venting, I felt a strange satisfaction, but as he walked out, I noticed him stumble slightly. I must have been mistaken.

After all, he was known in our circle for his unwavering composure, seemingly unflappable by anything.

As he closed the door, he said, "Amelia, I'll be back soon."