Page 76 of The Matchmaker's Cottage

Her breath caught and she looked up at him, eyes the color of storm clouds over the horizon.

“Ethan.” Her lips formed the words, but no sound came out, and before he could react, her arms were around his neck and she was kissing him, all soft lips and small breasts pushed against him, her body notching into his larger one perfectly.

Instinctually, he caught her, turned his head slightly, and kissed her back, mouth opening to soften and deepen the kiss even further, his hands bunching around her oversized sweater and skimming down low, lower, almost to her—

What the fuck am I doing?

Alarm bells started blaring in his head, loud, incessant.

She was going to take this as acquiescence, an indication that he was all in with her on this. The kiss had given her the impression he was signing a contract, promising her everything she wanted from him and more. But no—it had been a moment of weakness. He couldn’t let her think otherwise.

“Julia—”

She didn’t even register that he used her full name, pulling back with a soft, dreamy smile, her eyes lit up from the inside.

“Oh, Ethan,” she breathed, “this is going to be amazing. And we don’t even need to worry about the money, because—”

They could literally never come back from this.

“No, Julia.” He didn’t even clock what she was saying, couldn’t let her finish. He pulled away abruptly, harshly, forcefully putting distance between them by grabbing her and moving her away from him, his arms stretched out as far as they could go, before taking a few steps back, almost stumbling in his haste. “You don’t understand.”

She looked dazed, bewildered, with the burgeoning aura of hurt forming around her.

“Ethan, what…?”

“I can’t do it. Don’t you get it?” He no longer recognized himself, the self-pitying monster who was looming and about to speak, the words he had no more control over than the breath from his lungs. “You’ve been playing house with my family history for long enough, and now you’re turningourcottage into your own personal project and trying to drag me along for the ride. I’m not your fixer or your custodian, and I’m sure as hell not going to be your safety net when this all falls apart.”

She flinched, but he pressed on, a bitter edge to his voice. “You want the cottage? Fine. Have it. But don’t you dare pretend this was ever about us. It’s aboutyouand the fact thatyou’ve always wanted to be the girl who saves everything—like if you could just hold on tight enough, nothing else would slip away.” His voice dropped. “Or no one else would leave.”

Her breath caught and her face drained of color, picking up on his implication. It was cruel and it was nasty, but he was too hurt and mad—not even at her, though she got the brunt of it this time. Mostly at his parents for not trusting him with this role or even this information. But also at a world that had allowed him to coast, that hadn’t questioned his place in all of it, because it had been too easy for him: good-looking, average student, athletic. He hadn’t had to work for anything, even when he’d wanted to, so no one expected him to do the work and he went unnoticed, even when he tried. And then others got the opportunities to prove themselves that he would never have. It hurt.

So he had to hurt.

“I think you should leave.” Her words were strangled; she could barely get them out. “Now.”

“Gem.” The regret was starting to settle in now, though the fury and the disbelief at the circumstances remained. His head was spinning.

Where did they go from here?

“No.” She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Deeplyfuck off. And just so you know, I’m taking your parents up on their offer. And I don’t need you or your money, since I just got a pretty inheritance from mydead mom”—he flinched at the jarring news—“nor do I need your stubborn, pompous,uselessass fucking things up, either.” She sniffed, looking away. “Maybe you’ll find the time to visit in the next five years. You know, since you haven’t in the last five.”

Shots fired.

He snapped back before he could stop himself: “Good luck role-playing perfect innkeeper daughter in a place you’ll never really belong. Just don’t expect me to come running when it all falls apart.”

Her eyes blazed with fury and unshed tears. “Get.The fuck. Out.”

He hesitated for a second, the air between them crackling with everything they had just thrown at each other. Then he turned and left, slamming the door behind him with more force than he meant to.

He left the building in a daze, stepping out into the night, the cold biting at his skin. In his head, he told himself they’d figure it out. Once she cooled off, once he had time to breathe. Once the dust settled and the echoes of their—his—cruel words finally faded.

They would figure it out.

They had to.

Eventually.

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