Broken Rivalry : New-Adult Angsty College Romance (Silverbrook University Book 1)
Broken Rivalry : Chapter 22

The cabin stands tall and imposing, nestled amid the thick forest. Its wooden exterior, though rustic, exudes an air of luxury. Large windows offer glimpses of the opulence inside—plush sofas, a roaring fireplace, and state-of-the-art amenities. It’s a world away from my life now, but it feels like a painful reminder of the past.

I stop on the path to look back at the car. Maybe it would be better to go back for now.

Ethan notices my hesitation and takes my hand, leading me inside. The warmth of the cabin envelops us, and I’m struck by its grandeur. Every detail, from the intricate chandeliers to the plush carpets, speaks of wealth and sophistication.

“This is not where your parents used to do the Christmas party,” I say, sitting in front of the fireplace that had already been lit up, probably by their caregiver.

“No, it’s mine.”

I turn toward him, thinking he’s joking, but he looks serious as he presses the button to bring the blinds down as the dusk is setting to give us privacy from prying eyes, which I don’t expect to be many in the remote location we’re in.

We are only forty-five minutes from town, but it feels like the complete wilderness.

“Yours? Was it like a graduation present?” I mean it as a joke, but it comes out with a bite, and I’m not really impressed with myself for this. I know I have a lot of unresolved issues with wealth and what used to be my life, but I can’t take it out on Ethan.

He turns toward me, not missing the edge in my voice. Of course he doesn’t. Ethan is so attuned to me that it’s humbling and scary at the same time.

However, he remains calm, his face happy and serene as he walks past our bags by the door and sits beside me on the comfortable white leather sofa.

“No, this house has nothing to do with the Hawthornes. As you may know, my mother comes from money as well.”

I nod. His mother is a Walton, and I heard gossip that she was actually wealthier than his father when they got married.

He shrugs. “My grandfather never liked my father much, but he loved me. I’m wealthy independently of my father, and I thought you needed to know that.”

“I don’t care about your money.” Because I really don’t, and truth be told, I often think that it would make my life much easier if he were a regular guy.

I admire his face as he cradles my cheek, and I smile. Yes, if he weren’t Ethan Hawthorne, I would have already introduced him to my mom. I think she would love him, I really do, but I’m not sure it’s possible with the stigma he carries.

He leans in and kisses me, his lips moving on mine before I open my mouth, granting him entrance. He rests his hands on my hips and pulls me forward until I’m lying on top of him, and he kisses me lazily as if we have all the time in the world, and this weekend, we do. I don’t have a shift for a few days, and in the spur of the moment, we decided to come here on Thursday instead of Saturday. Four days for Ethan and I to be together.

I break the kiss and look down at him and his smile. Lord, he seems so happy, and my heart flutters knowing I’m the one who is doing that.

I’ve decided. I will tell him that I love him this weekend, but I will also need to be honest with him about my inability to involve him in my life, at least for the foreseeable future.

Will you ever be able to? Or are you only lying to yourself, wasting both of your time?

He brings his hand up and brushes the crease between my eyebrows with his thumb. “What are you thinking that hard about? Are you not happy to be here with me?”

I shake my head, dispelling the cloud of thoughts. “It’s not that. I’m… overwhelmed. This place, us, my family’s new life, everything.”

He studies me, his hazel eyes searching mine. “You know, let’s focus on us, on this moment. These four days of relaxing, talking… enjoying each other’s company, and seeing how many orgasms we can give each other.”

I laugh, touched by his understanding. “I’d like that. But first, how about I make us some dinner?”

A playful smirk crosses his face. “You? Cook?”

I feign indignation. “Hey, I can cook! Sort of.”

His laughter, warm and infectious, fills the space. “Alright, chef. What’s on the menu?” he asks, sitting up and pulling me up with him.

I think for a moment. “It’s a surprise.”

He nods in approval. “Sounds perfect. I’ll go put our bags away and take a quick shower.”

I watch him pick up the bags, his movements graceful and sure. As he disappears upstairs, I take a moment to explore the cabin. The living room flows seamlessly into a dining area and, beyond that, a majestic kitchen. It’s a dream, with gleaming marble countertops, state-of-the-art appliances, and cabinets stocked with every possible ingredient.

I start by rummaging through the cabinets, gathering ingredients for the pasta. As I set to work, I lose myself in the rhythm of cooking, the familiar motions soothing my nerves.

I’m so engrossed that I don’t hear Ethan approach until he’s right behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist. I startle, then relax into his embrace. He rests his chin on my shoulder, watching as I stir the sauce.

“That smells amazing,” he murmurs, placing a soft kiss on my neck.

I smile, tilting my head to give him better access. “Wait till you taste it.”

His response, a soft laugh against my skin, carries a hint of mischief. “I can’t wait even if I’d much rather taste something else,” he adds suggestively.

I press back against him, feeling his growing desire. “That’s dessert,” I tease.

He growls, nipping at my ear. “Vixen,” he murmurs. I laugh, the playful tension between us palpable.

We continue in a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the sizzle of the pan and our synchronized breathing. The domesticity of the moment feels intimate, making me wonder if this could be a glimpse into our future.

“This is truly delicious,” he compliments, taking another forkful of spaghetti.

“You can tell,” I respond with a light-hearted tone. “I really got into cooking after we moved to the trailer. It’s become something I love.”

He smirks. “Showing off your wifey skills, are you?”

I offer a half smile, his comment dimming my mood a little. Even if marriage isn’t on my mind right now, it’s disheartening to think that our relationship will never have that potential.

“Any plans for the break?” I ask, changing the subject.

He looks momentarily surprised but goes along. “Nothing set in stone. Why? What’s on your mind?”

“Just some work to catch up on. I used to do a side job for Jeff,” I explain, waving my hand dismissively. “So, I’m behind on some assignments and readings.”

His gaze sharpens. “What about your roommates?”

“Eva’s visiting her dad, and Nessa’s heading to her sister’s in New York,” I explain, pausing as I see his grin broadening.

“You’ll be alone then? How about having a live-in boyfriend for a couple of weeks?”

“Why don’t we see how this weekend pans out first?” I suggest, my tone light but the underlying seriousness evident.

He smirks. “Is that a challenge? I promise to make this weekend so memorable you’ll want me around permanently.”

I shake my head, amused, and move to do the dishes. As I navigate the kitchen, he suddenly blocks my path, his body pressing close to mine, trapping me between him and the cool marble counter.

A gasp escapes my lips, my body reacting instantly to his proximity. The contrasting sensations of his warmth and the cold counter send a shiver down my spine. His hands slide down to my hips, pulling me even closer.

“Ethan,” I breathe out, my voice shaky.

He chuckles, the sound deep and husky. “You said it was for dessert, didn’t you?”

I nod, unable to form words. He tilts my head, capturing my lips in a searing kiss. His tongue explores my mouth, the taste of him intoxicating. I moan into the kiss, my hands gripping his shoulders for support.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down my neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses. “You taste even better than the pasta,” he murmurs against my skin.

I laugh breathlessly, feeling the tension between us. “You’re insatiable.”

He grins, his eyes dark with desire. “Only for you.”

The intensity of his gaze makes my heart race. I’ve never felt this way with anyone before. The connection between us is undeniable, and as much as I try to fight it, I can’t help but get lost in him.

He places his hand on my back, guiding me to lean over the counter. I’m suddenly grateful for the sweatshirt I’m wearing.

“Ethan…” I murmur.

“Shhhh, let me enjoy dessert in peace,” he whispers close to my ear.

I smile, resting my cheek on the cool marble, which feels divine on my burning skin, and close my eyes, allowing myself to simply be in the moment with him.

He lifts the back of my sweatshirt and starts kissing down my spine until he reaches the waistband of my leggings, and then, in one brisk movement, both my leggings and underwear are pulled down.

I feel the cool air on my heated flesh. I turn my head a little more and open my eyes to see him standing there, his eyes riveted to the most private part of me, probably seeing how wet and ready for him I already am.

I don’t care that he sees my desire for him because I see the same in his eyes and the way he licks his lips as he keeps his eyes on my pussy.

“And now I feast,” he says with a voice so deep I barely recognize him, and he disappears from view.

I gasp as he grabs my thighs, spreading them and burying his face between my legs, really devouring me. He is not the man who previously gave me gentle, probing licks. No, my Ethan now is nothing more than an animal, licking, nibbling, sucking and penetrating. I see stars as my moans transform into cries as I shout his name between gasping breaths. His strong hands tighten around my legs, stopping any movements as my legs start to quiver with the orgasm he is giving me.

“God, Ethan!” I shout as I come, and he keeps on licking until I’m starting to feel my limbs again.

The echoes of my pleasure still linger in the room, leaving my throat raw. Now, the only sounds are our ragged breaths, punctuated by the unmistakable noise of his belt unbuckling and the zipper descending. Anticipation sends shivers down my spine; we’ve never explored this position before, and I’m eager to experience every new sensation with him. Moments later, a condom wrapper flutters past my face, landing at the counter’s edge, and I feel him rub the head against my wetness and enter me slowly.

A long moan escapes me as I feel so full in this position. He groans when he is fully seated inside of me.

He grips my hips and starts thrusting, his movements hard and fast, possessing me and branding me with his dick as he did with his mouth minutes before. He is claiming me like that, our moans and grunts mixing with the erotic sound of flesh hitting flesh.

I let out a cry as he accelerates the pace.

“Mine,” he groans as his thrusts turn erratic, and he leans over me, licking my neck and letting go of one of my hips to start caressing my clit.

“Yes, yes, yours,” I confirm, tightening my walls around his length the way he likes it, and as he comes, he presses harder on my clit, making me come in his wake.

After our intense moment, Ethan’s touch becomes gentle, almost reverent. He carefully pulls up my leggings, his fingers brushing my skin with a tenderness that sends shivers down my spine. Without a word, he lifts me into his arms, carrying me as if I weigh nothing. The sensation is both exhilarating and comforting.

He sets me down on the bed in what I assume is the main bedroom. “Wait for me,” he murmurs, his voice husky, and then he’s gone, disappearing into the adjoining bathroom. I take the opportunity to look around. The room is sleek and modern, with a distinctly masculine edge. Charcoals and grays dominate the palette, with occasional bursts of color from a piece of artwork or a decorative pillow. The large windows offer a breathtaking view of the surrounding woods, making the room feel both expansive and intimate.

The sound of running water pulls me from my thoughts. When Ethan returns, there’s a softness in his eyes that I haven’t seen before. He guides me to the bathroom, where a Jacuzzi-sized bathtub awaits, filled with steaming water that carries the relaxing scent of lavender.

With the utmost care, he begins to undress me, his movements slow and deliberate. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, and I can’t help but blush. He lifts me effortlessly, lowering me into the warm embrace of the water. The heat envelops me, melting away any residual tension. Ethan quickly sheds his own clothes and joins me, the water shifting around us. He pulls me close, his arms wrapping around me in a protective embrace.

I lean back against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart. The world outside fades, leaving the two of us in this intimate bubble. Taking a deep breath, I turn to face him, searching his eyes. “Ethan,” I begin, my voice shaky, “there’s something important I have to tell you.”

He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch featherlight. “What is it?”

Gathering my courage, I confess, “I love you, Ethan. I love you.”

His eyes, always so expressive, widen in surprise. After a moment that feels like an eternity, a smile breaks across his face. “Poppy,” he says, his voice thick with emotion, “I’ve been waiting to hear those words. I love you too, more than you could ever know.”

I lean into him, resting my head on his shoulder. “I’ve felt this way for a while,” I admit, “but I was scared. Things are complicated.”

He nods, understanding in his eyes. “I know, but we’ll face whatever comes together.”

He stands, water cascading off him, and extends his hand to help me out of the tub. We wrap ourselves in plush towels, the soft fabric absorbing the remaining moisture on our skin.

Ethan leads me back to the bedroom, the dim lighting casting a warm glow over everything. He pulls back the covers, inviting me in. I slide between the sheets, the cool fabric a sharp contrast to the warmth of the bath. He joins me, pulling me close. Our bodies entwined, replaceing a comfortable rhythm together.

Ethan traces patterns on my skin, his touch gentle and soothing. “This weekend,” he begins, his voice tender, “I want to show you how much you mean to me.”

I turn to face him, my heart swelling with emotion. “You already have.”

He smiles, pulling me closer. “There’s much more I want to share with you.”

I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “I’m looking forward to it.”

We drift off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, the promise of a new day and new memories to be made. But as much as I want to lose myself in this blissful bubble, the secrets I’m keeping cast a shadow over this moment. I know I can’t keep running from the truth, but for now, I want to savor this moment, this slice of happiness with Ethan.