And Still, Part 2/2

Summary: Part 2 of the And Still series. This turned out longer than I had planned, so I split it up for ease of reading. 🙂

Ethan joins her team at the bar again the next night. She’s distracted, wondering if the conversation she wants and needs to have with him will simply be a repeat of the one they’d had last year. After everyone else has gone up to their rooms for the night, Ethan moves into the chair next to hers.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” he observes.

Callie nods. “I know.”

His gaze flickers over her face.

“Just thinking,” she explains.

He watches her patiently for a long moment, then finally sighs and says, “You’re never this at a loss for words, Rookie. Spit it out.”

Callie grins. “You know I’m not really a rookie anymore.”

Ethan shrugs, a smile playing over his lips. “Habit.”

“You haven’t given that nickname to anyone else?”

“No.”

“Hmm. What about ‘colossal pain in my ass’?”

A full smile crosses his face then. “Ah. That one, I have bestowed on many, many people.”

They lapse into a brief silence until Callie says, “I’ve been thinking about last night. It’s…”

Not complicated, exactly. It’s almost exactly where she was a year ago, and once again, it wracks her with guilt. She can’t ask him to be the reason she comes back. But she also knows that her feelings are the same and she still won’t be able to be around him and act like he’s nothing more than a colleague.

“It’s not an easy decision,” Ethan says slowly. “I understand that.”

“It’s not that, exactly,” she says, swirling her straw in her drink. “It’s my dream job. It has been since I applied to do my residency at Edenwood. I really like Boston.”

“But?” he asks.

She looks up at him. “Honestly?”

“Yes.”

She looks down again, staring at a faint scratch in the table, and takes a steadying breath. “I feel the same way I did last year, Ethan. I thought… I don’t know, I guess I thought being away from you would make my feelings go away. But they didn’t. They’re still there.”

She swears the seconds after she says it turn into hours. The noises of the bar staff closing up for the night seem magnified and intrusive in the silence at their table.

She’s about ready to get up and chalk this up to a sign that despite her stubborn heart, she and Ethan obviously aren’t meant to happen.

But his hand suddenly covers hers, his fingers squeezing reassuringly. For just a second, she thinks her heart stops, before resuming at a rapid pace. It beats even faster when he gently tilts her chin up and meets her gaze.

“Just tell me if you don’t feel anything for me,” she whispers.

He squeezes her hand again. She waits. She can nearly see the gears turning in his head.

“I can’t,” he finally says. “I can’t tell you that honestly, Callie.”

His thumb is still tucked under her chin. It nearly brushes her bottom lip when she takes a shaky breath and tilts her head down, trying to gather her thoughts.

Tears burn at the back of her eyes when she looks back up. He traces his thumb slowly over her jawline, then cups her cheek in his hand. He’s never touched her like this before. The very feeling threatens to consume her, but somehow, she’s more than okay with that.

“Come up to my room?” she asks in a whisper. His pupils dilate, his eyes turning dark.

“I don’t want this to affect your decision,” he murmurs, but he rises from his chair and takes her hand.

She laughs shakily. “It’s a little late for that.”

They head for the elevator, his fingers laced firmly with hers. Callie nudges him gently.

“Stop looking so guilty. I want this,” she reassures him, taking in his pinched brow and the lines of concern on his face.

His expression relaxes a little. They ride up to her floor in near silence, but she’s acutely aware of how good his hand feels in hers, how warm and solid his chest is against her back when he tugs her closer after a raucous bachelor party tumbles into the elevator and crowds them. The warm puff of his breath on the back of her neck nearly makes her squirm with impatience.

Her hotel room is dark and nearly silent and makes this feel even more intimate. Her heart pounds when the door quietly clicks shut and it’s finally just the two of them.

Callie leans against the door, sighing when he steps closer and cups her face in his hands. His lips hover over hers for the briefest of moments before he brings them to hers and she groans in relief. His lips are soft and warm, a pleasurable contrast to his stubble scraping gently over her skin.

She has no idea how long they kiss, loses all sense of time as he presses her into the door, nips at her lip, slips his tongue into her mouth and tangles it with hers, but it doesn’t feel like nearly long enough. He tastes like the scotch he’d been drinking.

“Don’t stop,” she moans quietly when he leans back.

He kisses her again, reassuring, then tilts his head down. His hands run slowly from her shoulders down to her hands, his lips fluttering over her pulse point. A soft, whimpering sound slips past her lips.

“Are you sure?” Ethan asks against her skin.

She nods. “Yes. I want to feel you.”

He groans quietly, a vibration against her. Callie threads her fingers into his hair, her other hand gripping the back of his shirt as he kisses up her neck.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” she whispers. “Even after I left. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

His teeth sink lightly into her skin and she moans.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you either,” he murmurs in her ear.

She shivers when he slowly pulls the sleeve on her shirt over her shoulder, trailing his lips over her skin. Goosebumps erupt over her flesh.

“Ethan,” she sighs.

He lifts his head up, his blue eyes burning into hers. She sighs again when he kisses her deeply, his hands oh-so-slowly peeling her shirt off, then her pants. It’s like he wants to savor her, memorize her; she can feel it in the way he looks at her and the reverent way his fingers trace over her bare skin and set her nerve endings on fire.

She steadies her hands long enough to undo the buttons on his shirt and push it over his shoulders. She hesitates before she lets herself touch him. A memory she tries not to think about comes to mind.

They’d lost a patient. Losing someone was never easy, but this one had hit both of them particularly hard. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. They’d done everything they could, fought like hell to save him, but to no avail.

Ethan had been nearly silent as they’d headed into the locker room to change, his shirt and her scrubs bearing the grim red reminders of how hard they’d worked. She could nearly feel the frustration radiating off of him. Callie had been so focused on what had just happened, certain she could have done something different, that she’d started yanking her top off without a second thought.

It had caught in her ponytail and she’d nearly growled in frustration, the sound catching in her throat when she’d felt warm hands untangle her.

“Thank you,” she’d managed to say, suddenly realizing she was standing in front of him with just her pants and her bra on.

Her face had flooded with heat and desire when she’d realized he was also shirtless. Her eyes had lingered on his bare chest, and she’d been nearly overcome by how badly she wanted to touch him, to feel his warmth and the sure, steady beat of his heart.

Ethan had caught her hand almost before she’d realized she’d been reaching for him.

“Callie.”

His voice had been gentle and reassuring.

“Sorry,” she’d muttered. “I just…”

“Don’t worry about it.”

They’d finished changing in silence. It wasn’t the first or last time she’d realized what she felt for him. But that had been the first time she’d been so painfully aware that as long as she was a resident and he was her attending, he’d never allow anything to happen between them. She got it. She appreciated that he didn’t want to damage either of their careers, even when it made her heart hurt. Still, as they’d headed back out, she’d found herself wishing that she could have just touched him, even for one brief second.

Ethan takes her hand, gently tugging her closer. She wonders if he’s remembering that day too. She presses her hands to his chest, letting herself finally, finally, relish the feel of him. Her eyes close briefly.

“That was a tough day,” he says quietly, and she opens her eyes again, knowing now he’s thinking of it too.

“It was.” She offers him a faint smile, letting her fingers trail slowly down his chest, through the dark smattering of hair. “I really wanted to kiss you that day.”

His throat bobs when he swallows. “It’s why I didn’t go to Donahue’s that night,” he admits.

Callie looks at him quizzically. “What, you thought I’d just make out with you in front of everyone at the bar?”

He snorts out a laugh. “No.”

He gazes down at her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I knew if you gave me any sign you wanted more than just friendly conversation after that day we’d had, I’d have a hard time reminding myself of all the reasons nothing could happen between us.”

Callie slips her arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair. He exhales slowly.

“And if I let something happen,” he continues, “I’d never forgive myself if you thought it was only because we’d had a bad day.”

She bites her lip. “But you made it pretty clear nothing would happen even after my residency was done.”

It still hurts to say it, even now. It’s the sting of rejection, yes, but also the ache of thinking that if she’d met him any other way, maybe, just maybe, they would have ended up together before this.

“I know,” Ethan says quietly. “I meant what I said then, Callie. I had feelings for you.”

“But you didn’t want to jeopardize my career,” she murmurs.

Ethan pulls her impossibly closer, his arms secure around her waist. God, it feels good to have him hold her like this. She tries to commit everything from this moment to memory: the exact warmth and softness of his skin, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the particular deep blue shade of his eyes when he looks at her, the way being with him makes her feel.

“That was part of it,” he agrees. “As much of an excuse as it sounds like, I didn’t want to get in the way of what you’d worked so hard for.”

She feels him take a deep breath. “And I didn’t want to hurt you if it didn’t work out,” he admits.

What does she even say to that? Yes, it had hurt anyway, but how could she fault him for trying in his own way to protect her?

“And now?” she asks.

“I don’t want to hurt you now either.”

Callie kisses him again, long, lingering. “I want this,” she reassures him in a near whisper. “I want you. No matter what comes tomorrow.”

She nudges him backwards to sit on the couch and slowly straddles him.

“Callie,” he groans when their hips collide.

All thoughts of taking this slow, making it last, start to fly out the window. She feels him twitch and harden against the thin material of her underwear and rocks against him. He unhooks her bra, his lips blazing a path across her skin and making her groan. Her fingers thread through his hair, tugging when he captures one nipple in the warmth of his mouth, his thumb slowly circling the other. His touch and the feeling of his bare skin on hers is almost too much to take.

“Please,” she nearly begs him. “I need you.”

Her fingers fumble between them, pulling at his belt, the button on his pants. She gasps when he stands suddenly, carrying her to the bed and laying her down. He strips out of the rest of his clothes, leaving him clad in nothing but his boxer briefs.

She aches with wanting him. “Ethan,” she pleads.

He lays next to her and she rolls to her side, kissing him with so much hunger and intensity that it leaves them both breathing raggedly. She clings to him, her fingers digging into the firm muscles of his back when he lifts her thigh up over his hip. His fingers tangle in her hair before he rolls her to her back, swallowing her moans with a kiss when he shifts over her.

His hand dips between them, brushing over the damp center of her underwear. Callie flushes at his low groan when he slips his fingers under the fabric and feels how wet she is.

She sucks in a breath when he slides her underwear off, now completely bare before him. Ethan kisses her again, then trails his lips over her jaw and back up to her ear.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, and the words make her swallow hard.

For as much as she’s been called ‘pretty’ and ‘hot’ and any other number of words meant to compliment what she can only credit genetics for, no one has never said ‘beautiful’ to her like that. She blinks rapidly, her eyes fluttering closed when he kisses her sweetly.

“I mean that, Callie,” he says quietly.

“I know,” she says, her throat aching.

He kisses down the tender skin of her throat, his stubble scraping pleasurably over her. She tilts her head to the side, her hands fisting in the sheets as he kisses down her chest, her stomach, across her hip bones. His tongue trails a sensuous path just below her navel.

“Ethan!” she gasps when he runs his tongue lower.

She jerks against him, every muscle tightening at the feel of his mouth on her. The tip of his tongue flutters over her clit, then dips inside of her, and she swears she forgets how to breathe. All she can do is bury her hands in his hair, focus on how good this feels, how good he feels.

Her hips buck up when he slips his fingers into her warmth, sliding them in and out, his tongue still working over her. Her breath comes in short, sharp gasps, her teeth digging into her lower lip in an effort to keep herself from moaning his name. He curls his fingers just so, and she loses that battle as her orgasm rips through her, her heartbeat roaring in her ears.

She’s shaking when he brings his mouth back to hers.

“God,” she murmurs. “You’re… I… mmm,” she sighs when he kisses her harder.

She returns his urgent kisses with fervor, then pushes against his shoulder until he rolls to his back and tugs her over him.

“You’re not naked,” she murmurs, taking his earlobe between her teeth.

“Very observant of you,” he says.

His words end on a groan when she sits up to tug his boxer briefs off and trails her fingertips over his erection.

“I’ve made a lot of observations about you.”

She wraps her fingers around his length, squeezing lightly, twisting her hand slowly, running her thumb over his tip, watching his every reaction. His eyes drift closed and his breathing grows uneven.

“Have you?” he asks hoarsely, opening his eyes again.

She nods, shifting down to gently scrape her teeth over his neck and feeling him suck in a quiet breath. Ethan threads his fingers through her hair, pushing it away from her face.

“Your neck is sensitive,” she murmurs.

She lifts her head up to bring her mouth to his, heat coiling again in her belly at the way he kisses her so thoroughly.

“And you probably won’t admit it,” she continues, “but you can get lost in a good kiss.”

She sits up, and he immediately runs his hands up and down her sides.

“You’re not a very tactile person,” Callie says next, “but when it’s someone you care about, you love touching them.”

She shudders when he squeezes her hips, as if to prove her point. “How am I doing?” she asks breathlessly.

Ethan pulls her down against his chest.

“You’re right so far, Rookie,” he murmurs in her ear, then rolls them.

“You like being on top,” she gasps, wrapping her legs around his back and grinding against him.

“Mm,” he rumbles in her ear. “Not always.”

His hands and his lips are utterly distracting, but she manages to correct her previous statement, panting, “You like being the one in control.”

“Another one right,” he agrees in a low voice.

She tightens her legs and presses her hips up, desperate for more of him. He slides against her and she sinks her teeth into his shoulder.

“Ethan,” she moans.

He kisses her, hard, grunting when she slips her hand down over him and guides him into her.

“Oh god,” she whispers, her arms winding around his neck, wanting him closer even though they’re pressed flush together.

He surges forward, capturing her lips again and again as they move together. God, he feels good, better than anything she’s imagined. His lips drift to her jawline, her neck, back up to her mouth. Her fingers rake down his back, digging in when he thrusts against her harder.

She holds onto him even tighter, wanting to remember how his bare skin feels on hers, the way he keeps kissing her, the way he quietly groans her name. She’s never thought much before this about how she’s fit with anyone else, but he feels like he was meant to fit with her this perfectly.

“Mm… Ethan…” she whimpers, feeling herself getting close to the edge again.

“Let go, Callie. I’ve got you,” he murmurs in her ear, propping himself up over her and moving harder, faster.

Just the words are nearly her undoing. She moans his name into his neck, arching up into him and biting back a shriek when she comes again. He thrusts into her shallowly, sloppily, then groans her name. His head drops forward, his breathing ragged. She sighs when he lowers himself down next to her and runs her fingers through his hair.

They sink into a comfortable quiet, his lips idly brushing her shoulder and his arm slung low across her stomach. She’s never been so content to just be next to someone like this. It feels natural. Comfortable. Like they know each other, inside and out.

Eventually, he props himself up on his elbow to look at her. There’s a peculiar expression on his face.

“What is it?” she asks.

He traces his thumb slowly over her lower lip. “I want you to come back to Boston,” he says in another surprising show of raw honesty.

“To be on your team?” she asks quietly.

Ethan nods. “Yes. And to…”

Guilt crosses his features and he trails off. “I’m sorry. I know I told you I wouldn’t bring this up again.”

Callie slides her hand into his hair and tugs him down to her, pressing her lips to his.

“It’s okay,” she murmurs. “I like when you’re honest with me.”

They trade kisses back and forth, Callie slowly shifting over him until they’re lying chest to chest and his arms are around her. She asks him what he was going to say. Despite her reassurance, he shakes his head. “I want this decision to be for you. What’s best for you. Regardless of what I want.”

What she really wants is for him to say it. She needs to hear him say what he wants out loud. She feels a little greedy, knowing how open and honest he’s been with her in the past 24 hours and how guarded he normally is. After nearly four years of loving this man, though, she thinks she deserves to hear him say it.

“It will be my decision,” she reassures him. The words are a quiet promise against his mouth. “But I want you to tell me. I just… I need to know, Ethan.”

His fingers tighten around her waist when she says his name.

“I need to know what you want,” she murmurs, swallowing back the emotion in her voice.

She doesn’t know what she’s going to do if he won’t say it, if he can’t.

“I want to be with you.”

Callie sinks against him, burying her face in his neck. She takes a deep, shaky breath and lets her eyes close. Ethan turns his head, his lips brushing over her forehead when he whispers it again.

She’s waited so long to hear him say those words. The idea of a life in Boston with him still makes her overwhelmingly happy. It comes back to her full force, how much she still wants all of this with him. She can picture it easily, lazy Sunday mornings, falling asleep next to him, intense, passionate bickering over cases in private and working together as seamlessly as they had been before she’d left.

The words leave her mouth before she can even think about them. They’ve been waiting to come out. “I want to be with you too. So much.”

Ethan squeezes his arms tightly around her. She almost tells him right then and there how long she’s loved him, but she suspects he already knows.

So instead she mumbles, “Thank you for telling me.”

He kisses her deeply in response, then tucks her back against his side. She draws random lazy shapes across his chest and stomach, giggling when she finds ticklish spots.

“I wouldn’t have guessed you were ticklish,” she grins.

Ethan huffs. “It’s just a-”

“Nope,” she interrupts him. “No ‘it’s just a physiological response’ arguments.”

“But that’s all it is,” he insists.

“Do you really still argue at-” She glances over at the clock “-almost one in the morning?”

“Do you?” he asks pointedly, and she grins again.

She settles back against him, keeping her fingers still in favor of kissing his bare skin. His hand traces soothing patterns up and down her back.

“Mm,” she sighs contentedly. “That feels good.”

His lips brush over her forehead and she snuggles in closer.

“Good night, Callie,” she hears him murmur just before she drifts off.

~~~~~~~~~~

Despite the late hour that she fell asleep, Callie wakes early the next morning. Ethan is nearly completely wrapped around her. Their interlaced fingers rest against the sheet next to them. She sighs when he kisses the back of her shoulder.

“Good morning,” he greets her, his voice thick with sleep.

“Mm. Morning,” she yawns.

She turns in his arms and brushes her lips against his bare chest. His fingers trail over her side, nearly lulling her back to sleep. They lay quietly until his alarm sounds. He shuts it off, then lays back down beside her.

She’s grateful the lectures and presentations start later today. This morning she has things on her mind other than the conference.

Ethan pulls her back against him after she shifts to get more comfortable.

“You like to cuddle,” she murmurs.

“Is that an observation?”

Callie cracks her eyes open and peers up at him. “Am I right?”

The corners of his mouth lift up. “Not entirely. I rarely cuddle.”

“Okay, fine. You like to cuddle with me,” Callie responds.

Before he can reply, her phone starts ringing. She groans at the interruption but answers it.

Abby’s voice is far too chipper for the early hour. “We’re all meeting for breakfast. You still coming?”

“Shit,” Callie swears under her breath. “I… yeah, it slipped my mind. I’ll be down soon.”

She can almost hear Abby’s smirk over the phone. “Have a late night, Callie?”

“Goodbye, Abby.”

She doesn’t particularly want to leave the bed, but she supposes she should. When they’re both dressed and about to walk out her door, she slips her hand into his.

“Ethan,” she begins. “About Boston-”

He squeezes her hand and shakes his head. “Think about it, Callie. You know I want you to come back, but this has to be your decision.”

She appreciates his concern, but still… “You can’t make love to me and then say things like that,” she says.

She smiles at him softly, then presses her lips to his cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Callie sets the last box on her couch, then plops down next to it. There are boxes everywhere. She realizes she has no food. She’s exhausted and has no idea where her sheets are for her bed.

That last realization makes her frown.

“I don’t know where my bedding is,” she calls out.

Silence.

Sighing, she pushes herself upright and wanders towards her bedroom. “Hello?”

A hand holds out her familiar green sheets. “My hero,” she sighs.

“Your packing method is horribly unorganized,” Ethan says.

Callie shrugs.

“Yeah, well, my new job didn’t exactly give me a lot of time to get here and get started,” she throws back at him with a smirk.

She loops her arms around his neck and sighs when he tilts his head down to kiss her.

“I would apologize for that, but it wouldn’t be an honest response,” he says against her lips.

She grins again. “You know you can just say you’re happy I’m back.”

He kisses her so soundly, so deeply, his arms banded around her waist, that she’s gasping for breath when he leans back and rests his forehead against hers.

“I’m glad you’re back, Callie,” he murmurs.

“Me too,” she says through a smile. “Me too.”