Page 175 of Ethan: The Untouchable CEO

Not many people have the courage to be this honest, this exposed. You need real strength to undress yourself emotionally, to confess fears and feelings buried deep.

But Thalia’s bravery doesn’t surprise me. She survived the hell her parents created and emerged as this dignified, transparent woman standing in front of me.

“What makes you think I’m going back to my old life?” I ask, determined to end the spiral she pushed herself into.

She’s ready to fire back—I can tell by the dramatic eye roll.

“Fuck, Thalia,” I groan, letting my head fall back. “What you did bruised my ego.” I admit it plainly. “And I won’t lie, when I walked out that door, I ended everything between us.”

I see her face crumble in a second, watch her struggle to stay standing, to hold herself together. She doesn’t speak, just waits, eyes locked on me.

“But I kept feeling like a piece was missing,” I add quietly, calm.

She stops breathing mid-inhale, eyes widening as if forced open.

“And every time I see you, I get this insane urge to touch you. To feel you.”

She looks at me with hope, like someone awaiting a gift they’ve dreamed about forever.

“I asked you to walk this path with me, wherever it leads, Thalia,” I continue, shaking her world. “Why did you need to label what we had? Why can’t you just accept it and discover it with me?”

“What are you saying, Ethan?” She whispers, voice trembling. “Say it plainly, please.”

Chuckling, I take her chin gently, lifting her gaze to mine, just a breath between our mouths.

“I want to pick up where we left off a few weeks ago, Thalia.”

She swallows hard and rests her forehead against mine, eyes closing. Then she draws in a deep breath and holds it—trying to freeze time in this exact moment.

FIFTY-SEVEN

Thalia

“If I ask you if I’m dreaming, you’ll probably start laughing,” I whisper against his lips.

And, of course, Ethan chuckles, every subtle movement pulling us closer.

“You’re not dreaming, Thalia,” he assures me. “I’m right here,” he murmurs, then leans in, his hot breath brushing my ear. “And you can do whatever you want with me.”

It hits me fully now—he’s standing before me in nothing but a towel carelessly tied around his waist.

Ethan nibbles my earlobe, then his mouth glides over my neck to my shoulder, his touch feather-light, teasing every nerve ending. I shiver against him, and his hands wrap firmly around my waist, anchoring me.

“I need verbal assurance this time, that you’re fully on board, Thalia,” he murmurs, his voice vibrating against my skin. “I need to know you understand that I’m here, fully, only with you.”

If someone had told me the night I saw him leave Theo’s house that I’d have him like this again, I would’ve called them insane.

Every inch of me is alive—every nerve taut, every cell screaming for him, for his touch.

I place my hand on his neck, guiding his head toward mine until our lips hover mere breaths apart.

“I don’t want anything more than what you’re giving me, Ethan Hardy.”

He laughs softly under his breath, then leans down and obliterates the space between us.

I’ve kissed him countless times over the past months, but this kiss—this kiss consumes me and resurrects me. I feel more energized, braver, stronger. It is all I needed to feel grounded yet soaring, whole yet aflame with desire.

“I fucking missed you,” he whispers between kisses.