Chapter 17 – Boyfriend Material?

The second Ethan killed the engine, I was out. My ankle, sore from hours of abuse, betrayed me with a sharp twist, and I stumbled hard. The ground rushed up, but before I could taste dirt, strong arms wrapped around me, catching me mid-fall.

Ethan.

How the hell was he so fast? He'd been at the driver's side a second ago. My brain struggled to connect the dots, but the heat from his body pressed against mine scrambled my thoughts.

"You okay?" His voice was low, rough, and breath-brushing my cheek.

"Fine," I muttered, ignoring the spike in my heart rate. I wasn't about to swoon over his stupid heroics.

He didn't look convinced but let me go. I hobbled to the back of the truck, determined to grab my stuff without any more drama. My fingers brushed the strap of my bag when—wham!—Ethan's arms locked around my waist, spinning me like some damn ballerina.

"What the—" I gasped, my words catching as I looked up.

His face was inches from mine, eyes dark and unreadable. The air between us thickened, charged with something I didn't want to name. My breath hitched as his gaze dropped to my lips. Time slowed, the world narrowing to just us.

Then his mouth crashed into mine.

The kiss was wild, feverish—a storm I couldn't escape. His hands cupped my face, fingers tangling in my hair as if he couldn't get enough. I tried to be mad, to push him away, but my resolve crumbled under the sheer intensity of it.

Damn him.

My arms found their way around his neck, pulling him closer. His lips were desperate and possessive, and I hated how much I loved it. Heat curled low in my belly, making my knees weak. If he hadn't been holding me, I would've melted to the ground.

When he finally pulled back, we were both breathless. His forehead rested against mine, and his voice was husky.

"Can I be your boyfriend then?"

Boyfriend?

My heart did a double take. We'd known each other for what, five minutes? And now he wanted to stake a claim?

"No," I said firmly, surprising even myself.

His brows shot up. "Why not?"

"Because you're bossy and tell me what to do."

A slow grin spread across his face. "As long as Lycan knows you're mine, you can still hang out with him if you really have to."

I blinked. "What does Lycan have to do with this? He's just a wolf. And how on earth would he know what's yours!" Ethan's grin didn't waver. "You're so weird," I muttered, shaking my head. "Fine. As long as you're not overprotective, bossy, or jealous, we can date. But the second you cross any of those lines, you're out."

He chuckled, a low, teasing sound that sent shivers down my spine. "You're beautiful, you know that? And this defiant side of you? It's annoying but makes you even more attractive."

Before I could respond, his lips found mine again, softer this time but no less electrifying. His hands settled on my waist, drawing me closer, and I didn't fight it. He deepened the kiss, shoving his tongue deep into my mouth, tasting every bit of me, and I started to feel a bit aroused, wanting more of him. There was something about his possessiveness that sent a thrill down my spine. It wasn't suffocating, just... intoxicating.

Just when I thought I might spontaneously combust, he pulled back, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.

"I should probably get your stuff inside before your parents catch us."

I rolled my eyes, still a little dazed. "Good idea."

As I reached for my bag, Ethan scooped me up, bridal style.

"Ethan!" I squealed, half-annoyed, half-amused. "Put me down!"

"No chance," he shot back. "You think I'm gonna let you limp around with that ankle? Missy, you're mistaken."

Before I could argue, he was striding toward the Inn's door, carrying me like I weighed nothing. I had to admit, being in his arms wasn't the worst thing.

The door swung open, and I sucked in a breath. My parents had gone all out with the renovations. The place looked nothing like the rundown inn I remembered. Dark wood accents, immaculate beige walls, and a massive chandelier that bathed the entryway in a warm glow. The living room to the left was straight out of a magazine—a gold-framed fireplace and a mix of modern and antique furniture.

My father lounged in a plush armchair, newspaper in hand, while my mother fussed over a flower arrangement.

Both froze as Ethan carried me in.

Dad lowered his newspaper, eyes wide. "Well, that's one way to make an entrance."

Heat crept up my neck. "It's not what it looks like."

He arched a brow. "So your ankle's messed up, and Romeo here decided to play knight in shining armor?"

I shot him a glare. "Dad, please."

He chuckled. "Just saying. If you need help walking, maybe the ankle isn't the problem."

"Very funny," I grumbled.

Ethan set me down on the couch, propping my ankle on a pile of pillows. "Stay put," he ordered like I was some disobedient pet.

I crossed my arms. "Yes, sir."

He flashed a grin and headed back outside for my bags.

Dad peered over his newspaper. "He's got it bad for you."

I snorted. "Yeah, well, he's also bossy as hell."

Dad's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Sounds like someone else I know."

Before I could come up with a witty comeback, Ethan returned, bags in hand. He set them by the door and looked at me, his expression softening.

"You good?"

"Yeah," I said, though my mind was still spinning. So much had happened in such a short time. My ankle throbbed, my lips swollen from his kisses, and my heart was a tangled mess.

Ethan crouched in front of me, his gaze steady. "We'll figure this out, you and me."

I wanted to believe him. But nothing about my life was simple anymore.