Claire
While I was talking to Meg, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I didn’t even have to turn around. I could feel him staring at me. It was him, and I knew it.
Meg was mid-sentence when I turned around. Sure enough, Ethan Knight stood in the doorway with his fuck-me eyes fixated on me.
He wore silverish-gray jeans that showed off his thigh muscles. A navy t-shirt hugged his pecs and six-pack in just the right way, and a navy sport coat topped it off. I swallowed hard as my veins started pulsing throughout my body.
What is he doing here?
This was bad. He was a client. It was illegal and unethical for me to have a personal relationship of any sort with a client.
But technically you gave your notice, and you no longer represent him, I reminded myself.
So the illegal part was over. Unethical was a gray area.
But he might be going to jail.
No one knew it yet, but I’d given my notice to Dan two weeks ago and was opening my own firm. We were on good terms, and while most firms would have told me to shove my two-week notice up my ass, Dan begged me to finish it out. I’d been wrapping up cases when he walked into my office Wednesday and asked me for one last favor. I agreed to prepare Ethan for interrogations and handle the FBI meeting, but that was it. I no longer represented clients from Dan’s firm.
I almost told Ethan at lunch and again before he left, but I figured it was better coming from Dan. He was, after all, technically his client.
I wasn’t sure how long we stared, but like two magnets, we found ourselves walking toward each other.
“Claire, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Ethan had a look on his face like he wanted to fuck me right then and there.
“Nor did I expect to see you.” My heart was pounding into my throat.
We continued to stare.
Tom Marko, the captain of the New York Volts, and his wife Liv, along with Collin and Meg, joined us. Ethan was quickly being embraced, but he kept his eyes on me.
“Claire, how do you know Ethan?” Meg’s curious stare drilled into me. I could feel it, but I couldn’t break my stare from Ethan's.
“Oh, around.” I didn’t want to disclose anything confidential.
“It’s okay. These are my closest friends. They all know.” His eyes fixated on me. Then, looking around at the others, he stated, “She’s my attorney.”
Collin slapped him on the back. “Man, this is great news! Claire is the best. I didn’t realize she was representing you.”
“Best news I’ve heard all day!” Liv gushed.
Oh no! This is not happening. I started shaking my head. I didn’t realize it, but I was.
“Claire?” What’s wrong?” Ethan peered down at me.
“Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?” My insides quivered, and my mouth went dry. I needed to tell him. It wasn’t fair if he didn’t know.
He tilted his head at me and slightly squinted. “Sure,” he slowly responded.
I could feel the stares from the rest of the group, but my eyes never left his face.
Putting his hand on the small of my back, he led me out the door and down the hall to Derek’s office. Tiny volts of electricity shot through my spine.
“Hold on a minute.” He pulled out his phone and sent a text message, I assumed to Derek.
A few seconds later, he entered a code on the key box, then ushered me in. “Claire, what’s wrong?”
Panic swept through me. I wasn’t sure how to tell him this. “I... I…” I stopped and closed my eyes for a brief second.
He pulled my chin up. “Claire, tell me what’s going on?”
“I’m not your attorney anymore,” I blurted out.
His eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m opening my own firm. My last day was today. You’re no longer my client.” It all came rushing out.
He pushed his hands through his hair. “Is this a joke?”
I shook my head.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier today?”
“I wanted to, but I thought it was best if Dan did, since you’re technically his client.” I looked down, feeling super guilty I hadn’t told him.
“My life is on the line, and you let a technicality stop you from telling me this?” he seethed at me.
“Ethan, I’m sorry.” I seriously felt like the worst person on Earth.
He took a deep breath and started pacing the room. He finally stopped in front of me. “I’ll switch to your new firm.”
“You can’t,” I burst out before I could even think about it.
“Why?”
“Because it’s unethical.”
He glared at me. “You think I care about the politics of your employment contract with Dan when I’m being framed for something that could have me spending the rest of my life in prison?”
“It’s not about that,” I cried back.
“Then what the hell is it about, Claire?”
“It’s about you.” I shouldn’t have admitted it, but I couldn’t control what was coming out of my mouth.
He stopped. Pain crossed his face. “You think I’m guilty.”
I reached up and grabbed his face. “No, I don’t.” I’d sat for hours with him, and my gut told me that there was no way he was guilty.
He clenched his teeth. “If you don’t think I’m guilty, then what is it that won’t allow you to represent me?” He bent down, and his face was inches from mine.
Because I’m so attracted to you that I’ll surely get disbarred.
Any thoughts of staying professional went out the window. I pulled his face down and crushed his lips into mine, quickly sliding my tongue into his mouth.
I felt him start to relax. One hand went to my ass and pulled me into his body while his other hand grabbed my head. His erection was right up against me, and he bit my lip.
I moaned in his mouth.
Since I’d laid eyes on him, I had imagined what he would taste and feel like, and he was more delicious than I’d expected. Ripples of pleasure started flowing through my body. I moved my hands down the front of him, and had just gotten to his pants when he grabbed them and pulled back from me.
“So you were going to fire me as a client and walk away. Leave me to fend for myself?” he growled at me.
“Ethan, no! It’s not like that.”
“Then tell me what it’s like, Claire,” he seethed down at me once more.
“It wouldn’t have been right of me—”
Derek walked in. “Oh, hey. Sorry for interrupting—I have to grab the key for the alcohol room, and I’ll be out of here.”
“No worries, D. I was just leaving.” He glared at me.
“Ethan!” I grabbed his arm.
He shook it off and turned around. “No, Claire. We’re done here.” He walked out.
It was clear: Ethan Knight had gone from wanting me to hating me. And it was all my fault.
Embarrassed, I apologized to Derek, who pretended like he hadn’t seen anything. I slowly made my way back to the VIP room. Grabbing my purse, I told Meg and Liv that I wasn’t feeling well and was going home.
Meg grabbed my arm. “Claire, what’s going on?”
“I think I’m coming down with something. I need to go home.” It wasn’t a total lie; my stomach was quivering.
“Where’s Ethan?” Liv asked me.
At the mention of his name, my face flushed. I shrugged my shoulders and blinked back tears. “I have to go.”
Meg put her arm around me. “Claire, tell us what’s going on.”
I shook my head. “I can’t. Sorry. I need to go home now.”
Liv put her arm around my other shoulder. “Do you want me to go with you?”
I smiled at her. “Thanks, but I’ll be okay. I’ll text you when I get home.”
I quickly made my way through the club and outside. The hot summer air did nothing to calm my feelings. A tear escaped down my face, and I brushed it away.
I started walking down the street, no real plan where I was going and not totally paying attention.
What was I thinking? Ethan Knight had been a client. Regardless of my current status, it still could look shady, and that could really damage my professional reputation.
Looking back, I should have told Ethan that it was my last day. Dan would have been angry, but he deserved to know. He was right—his life was hanging on the line.
I cursed myself for kissing him. I should never have crossed that line. And now that I was opening my own firm, there was less room to make mistakes.
He was just so intoxicating. I’d spent the last forty-eight hours pulling every card I knew to not give in to the temptation of him. I thought I’d made it.
I didn’t know he would be at the club. It made sense he would be friends with Collin, Derek, and Tom, being a former Volts player, but it had never crossed my mind. My only hope was that I wouldn’t have to run across him again.
I looked up from the pavement, realized I was in front of a bar, and decided I needed a drink. The bar was full of clients, but I found an empty bar stool.
The bartender noticed me. He was good enough looking and checked me out. “What can I get you?”
“Long Island iced tea.” If I was going to drink, I might as well drink, I told myself.
The guy next to me spoke up. “Good choice.” He checked me out as well. He wasn’t horrible to look at, but not anywhere near Ethan Knight.
The thought crossed my mind that maybe I could screw the thoughts of Ethan out of my mind. I sat back and downed my drink reasonably quick.
I motioned to the bartender to get me another.
“Shot?” The guy next to me ogled between my cleavage and thighs.
Why not? I shrugged and said, “Tequila.”
“Two tequilas!” He put two fingers up to the bartender.
Soon I was licking salt off my hand, felt the warm liquid slide down my throat, and sucked on a lime. I chased it down with half my Long Island and needed to go to the bathroom. I grabbed my purse and stood up, then fell back into the guy who sat next to me.
“Whoa!” I put my hand on his thigh to steady myself.
He grabbed my hips and squeezed them a few times. “Steady there, Sweetheart.”
Rolling my eyes, I started staggering to the bathroom. I stood in line for a few minutes and finally did my business. Sitting down, I suddenly felt drunk. I grabbed the handrail and pulled myself off the toilet, went out of the stall, threw some water on my face, and stumbled out. But I didn’t get too far before the guy who’d been sitting next to me appeared.
“Hey Sweetheart, let’s go dance.” His face was right in mine.
“Not your sweetheart,” I slurred, and turned back to my seat at the bar. The bar suddenly became two, and I felt myself start to wobble.
He grabbed my arm and pulled me back. “One dance.”
“Not tonight.” I tried to shake him off, but he wouldn’t let me go. He started dragging me out to the dance floor, and everything started to spin faster as a wave of nausea passed through me. I tried to push him off me.
At least, I felt like I was trying.
I was almost to the dance floor when I felt an arm around my waist and saw a hand reach from behind me and push the guy in the chest. “Back off. She told you no,” the deep voice demanded.
I was buzzed, but I knew that voice and turned my head to see Ethan. Well, three of him.
What is he doing here?
The guy wasn’t too happy. “What’s it to you?” He glared.
Ethan moved me behind him and got in the guy’s face. He towered over him. “You want to find out?”
The guy took a step back and threw his hands near his face. “All right, man.”
Ethan turned back around, grabbed me by the arm, and started steering me out of the bar.
“Stop,” I tried to say, but everything whirled around me.
That was the last thing I remembered. I woke up the next day in Ethan’s bed.
Ethan
I had just gotten a beer and was standing against the wall when Claire walked in. At first I thought maybe she’d followed me, but I quickly realized that wasn’t the case.
She threw back her first drink like she’d just run a marathon and it was water. The bartender and the guy next to her both eyed her up like she was ice cream. As much as I wanted to hate her, I couldn’t. Their attention made me focus on her even more than I usually did.
I didn’t like it when she did a shot with the guy next to her, but I liked it even less when I saw that the bartender gave him the shots first, instead of putting one in front of each of them.
Then Claire stood up. She fell back onto him and stumbled her way across to the bathroom. Something wasn’t right. She’d had one-and-a-half drinks and one shot. Something told me that Claire shouldn’t be stumbling that bad.
I thought back to Club D. I didn’t recall her tasting like alcohol. I didn’t remember her having a glass in her hand when I first saw her in the VIP room.
When she came out of the bathroom, it was clear something was wrong. By the time I got her halfway to the door, she had collapsed in my arms, and I carried her out of the bar.
She violently threw up the minute I got her outside the bar. I held her hair back as people darted around us on the sidewalk. I ignored the nasty comments people were yelling out. When she stopped, she quickly passed out in my arms, but started shaking as if cold. I wrapped her up in my sport coat and hailed a cab.
I instructed the cabbie to go to my place, as Claire was in no shape to be on her own. My suspicion was that she had been drugged, and I debated taking her to the hospital. And I figured that since she had already puked, they wouldn’t be pumping her stomach. She would be more comfortable at my place than a hospital, for sure.
As much as I wanted to figure out if it was the bartender, the guy next to her, or both, I needed to get her somewhere safe.
By the time she got to my house, she seemed to be peacefully sleeping. I kept checking her to make sure she was breathing, and felt her forehead to make sure she didn’t have a fever.
Her dress and shoes were covered in puke. I removed her dress, tried not to stare at her beautiful body, and quickly put one of my t-shirts over her.
There was some puke in her hair. I took a washcloth and a bit of shampoo and water and cleaned it out. Then I washed her legs and feet.
I stayed up most of the night. She lay cuddled up to my chest, her arm gripping my waist, and every now and then mumbled things I couldn’t understand. The sun had just started coming up when I finally couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore.
I wasn't asleep long before I woke up to see her running to the bathroom. Jumping off the bed, I followed her and held her hair back as she started throwing up again. Her limp body was covered in sweat, and her eyes were bloodshot as tears fell down her face.
After several violent rounds of puking, she hugged the toilet and continued to cry.
I pulled her into my lap, washed her face with a cold washcloth, put my lips on her head, and tried to comfort her.
“Don’t hate me, Ethan,” she cried out.
“Shh... I don’t hate you,” I whispered to her.
She put both hands on her head and pushed on it. “My head hurts so bad.” She started crying harder.
“Shhh.” I pulled her more into my chest.
She nestled up into me, sobbing.
“It’s okay. Everything will be okay.” I lightly stroked her hair.
Then she started shaking again.
“I’m going to run you a hot bath. Stay here a minute.” I wrapped a towel around her and set her on the floor. I filled the tub with warm water and started to undress her. Once again, I tried my best not to stare at her bare body as I shampooed her hair.
More tears streamed out of her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Claire. I’m almost done.” I rinsed the remaining shampoo out.
“My head is going to explode,” she whispered so quietly I almost didn’t hear her.
Jolts of pain flew through me. Seeing her like this was killing me. And I didn’t know what to do to stop her from suffering.
“Shh.” I kissed her on the head. “Rest. I’ll give you some privacy. I’m going to leave the door open so I can hear you. When you’re ready, say something and I’ll help you out, okay?”
She closed her eyes and slowly nodded.
I grabbed a fresh towel and rolled it up to make a pillow for her to lay back on. I was about to leave when she grabbed my hand.
“Ethan,” she whispered.
I gazed down at her. “Yeah?” I said softly.
“Thank you.” Fresh tears fell down her face.
I kissed her head again. “Shh, no thanks needed. Just relax.”
Music filled the air, and I realized it was her phone ringing. I pulled it out of her purse. There were several text messages from Liv and Meg. Not knowing if she was going to want to tell them about this or not, I replied to each of them. “Everything is fine. Busy day. I will call you later.”
My extra phone charger was in the kitchen. I grabbed her purse and set it on my counter, then plugged her phone into my charger.
I grabbed her bra and underwear, along with my t-shirt she had worn, and threw it in my washer. Her dress had a ‘dry clean only’ tag, so I folded it up and put it in a plastic bag. I tried to wash her shoes as best as possible. I grabbed a bottle of water out of my fridge, fresh towels, and a t-shirt out of my closet.
I listened for her to tell me she was ready to get out of the tub, but she never called for me. Peeking back in the bathroom to check on her, I saw she had fallen asleep in the bathtub. Her head had rolled toward me, and was lying on top of the wall of the tub. Her cheeks had a bit of red in them from the warm bath. She looked so peaceful that I debated how long to let her stay there.
As I stared at her laying against the tub, I knew that one of those assholes had drugged her. I vowed at that moment that I would get to the bottom of who was guilty, and they would pay.
Kissing her forehead, I pulled her out of the bath. I toweled her off before I put my t-shirt over her and carried her back to my bed.
Claire woke up from time to time and would hold her head and cry or mumble. She mumbled about lots of things, but over and over, she mumbled for me not to hate her.
As if I could really hate her.
I thought back to my reaction when she’d told me she was no longer my attorney. I was such a jackass. She took a huge risk and kissed me, and instead of worshipping her as I should have done, my selfish ass had held my legal issues against her.
The only reason she was in that bar was because I’d treated her badly. I cursed myself.
I looked at her curled up against my chest. I kissed her on the forehead again.
She woke up, frowned at me, and started dry-heaving on top of me, too weak to move.
I grabbed the trash can I had put by the bed, sat her up, held her hair, and rubbed her back until her episode passed.
“Ethan,” she cried, and hid her face in my chest, “I’m so sorry.”
“Shh. Claire, it’s okay. Everything will be okay,” I told her, over and over. But I wondered if it really would be.