Francesca's POV:

Ethan and I are going on our first date. Our first ever official date, and I have zero clue as to what we're doing.

I acted quite nonchalant when he told me, but once we got back to the house, it all sunk it when he said, "Be ready in an hour. Dress... as you like, but wear flat shoes or sneakers."

That gave me no clues. Nothing. Nada.

It's funny how he really expected me to get showered, dressed and have makeup on, in that time. I think we both knew that was never going to happen, it just isn't realistic.

Exactly one and half hours later, feeling incredibly nervous, I approach the door leading into the main room – just one door separating us, separating me from him.

I didn't know if he expected me to wear a dress, or if jeans were acceptable. So, I sent out an SOS to my friends, and they helped me out in that department before shooing me into the bathroom to take a shower.

Taking a deep breath, I shake out my wrists, silently preparing myself before I open the door, and when I do, I seem to forget how to breathe. Such a simple task, but when I take Ethan in, it's like everything momentarily stops. He's leaning against the back of the sofa, distracted as he throws popcorn at Lauren's head, but he looks... breathtaking.

I don't know how he found a suit at last minute, but he looks absolutely dashing. He's wearing black pants and a snug white dress-shirt, his muscles straining nicely and top two button's undone. His suit jacket is folded over his arm, and he's wearing actual dress shoes, not his usual sneakers. He looks like a fucking God. Who the fuck has taken Ethan, and replaced him with this specimen? I'd like to tell them I'm not complaining.

Hanna taps his back vigorously, smiling over at me, and he goes to shoot her a glare, but he's caught mid-action, when his eyes meet mine. His mouth falls open, and my ego gets picked up at his reaction – I needed that assurance.

"Fuck. My. Life." Ethan curses, running his hands over his face, blinking at me repetitively as I make my way over to him. "I- Oh my God, darling."

"This okay for your plans?" I ask, gesturing down to my outfit.

"More than fucking okay." He says and I smile, happy with his answer. "You look beautiful."

After scanning my not so many options, I went with one of the last things I packed and never expected to wear – a ruby red, ribbed, bodycon style dress, something so out of my latest comfort zone. It hugs every part of my body, ending mid-thigh, it being a little on the shorter side than I'd like. It gives me enough cleavage with the square shaped neckline, three artificial buttons over my boobs, and the sleeves sheer and cuffed. I look good.

With his suit, I'm so fucking glad I opted for this, other than something more casual because I really would have refused to go until I changed.

"Are you sure you don't want to just stay in?" He asks me with an adorable pout, and I shake my head, smoothing my hands over his shoulders. Not happy with my answer, he slaps my ass, grabbing a handful, and I scold him with a slap on the shoulder.

"Control yourself." I say and Hanna chortles to herself.

"Fine, fine." He rolls his eyes playfully, squeezing my ass once more. "Have you got a jacket?"

"Yeah, Lauren's letting me borrow hers." I say and he smiles appreciatively over at her.

"We should go, we have reservations." He tells me one little clue to our date. So, this means we're going for a meal.

He pushes himself up from leaning on the sofa, squeezing my hip slightly before he lets go to shrug on his jacket, a simple action, that is without question, one of the hottest things I've ever seen.

If I'm to survive this date, I need to keep my cool, and not ruin my panties within the first ten minutes. Everything he does and says turns me on though, it's becoming a problem.

"Wait! Francesca pass me your phone." Lauren stands up, and I frown at what she's asking, but give her it anyway. "You guys need a picture together before you go."

"Really?" I ask, the frown never leaving because I don't like my photo taken, and she nods hastily. I guess Ethan and I do need new photos of each other and together.

"Aww." Matt coos, and I feel myself blush at the attention.

"I feel like a proud parent seeing their kids off to prom." Felix chokes out, wiping a faux tear, and I give him a smile.

"I thought I were the mom?" I ask, and he shoos me off with his hand making me chuckle.

To get the best photo, Lauren points towards the opposite wall to the massive ray of light, which will momentarily blind us while we take photos since the sun it setting, but I know that they'll make pretty pictures. As always, I find myself on Ethan's right side, my arm casually draped around his waist, his around my upper body – our height difference more than noticeable from our position.

"Okay, different poses, go." Lauren demands, and I force the urge to groan and roll my eyes. I'm glad not everyone is staring, most have gone back to the movie that they were watching before I came down here, apart from Matt who is smiling at me.

We comply and after taking what feels like to be a billion photos, she passes me my phone back, and I smile, giving her hug before I'm getting whisked away by Ethan.

"Have a good time. Don't jump each other like rabbits before you get there!" Matt calls, and I fire him a playful glare before we leave.

"Finally." Ethan breathes out just as the door shuts behind us, and now we have privacy. "Darling, I'm trying so hard. But, I'm getting harder the more I look at you."

"You have boner problems." I point out.

"You are my boner problem." He retorts and I snort, reaching for Lauren's black leather jacket that I left hanging over the banister.

"Remember Matt's words, no jumping each other before we get there." I point at him with a faux stern expression, but in reality I want to burst out laughing.

"How about when we get there?" He asks and I deadpan – horny boy. "Fine, fine. Let's go, I guess."

"You seem awfully chipper about going on a date with me." I reply sarcastically.

He stops walking, and before I know he's kissing me, his hands grabbing hold of my face. Startled, it takes a few seconds to comprehend his lips are on mine, and when I do, I smile into the sweet kiss. "I am excited, you've just blown my mind with this dress. All my brain cells have momentarily left. You look fucking amazing, darling."

"Thank you." I merely whisper, flattening my hands out over his suit jacket before tugging it closed. "You don't look too bad yourself, Ethan Kane."

"No Anthony?" He asks and I shake my head, deciding not be a tease. "Finally, Miss Salatino."

Before we leave through the front door, I grab his face and with the pad of my thumb, I wipe off the red lipstick that transferred onto his mouth, and he gives me a thankful smile.

Leaving Ethan to lock the door behind us, I approach the van and after a minute, I frown wondering what he's doing. I walk around the other side, and come to the conclusion that he's left me. Where the fuck is my Ethan?

"Ethan, if you're playing tricks on me because I won't get you off before we go out together. That's cruel." I say, leaning against the van, not particularly scared about the fact he's left me all alone.

"Darling, I'm not playing tricks. Close your eyes." Ethan says from God-knows-where, and I frown at my following surroundings.

"I am not closing my eyes." I speak after a few cautious seconds.

"Fine, then surprise." He says, and my jaw drops when suddenly he rounds the van, with a fucking motorcycle. "Meet Darla, she's my second child. Darla, this is Francesca."

"Are you fucking kidding me!? You own a Harley-Davidson?" I splutter out, walking over to the beautiful vehicle. "Please tell me we're going on this."

"Yeah, well, I know we're not exactly dressed appropriately, but it's still an option. I'm game, if you are." He says with a grin, holding out a helmet.

"Oh, I'm game." I nod, taking it from him.

"Knew you would be. Ever since the time you told me about stealing a motorcycle and riding on the highway at twelve year's old, I wanted to get you on this with me." He says and my heart warms that he remembers that. It was such a long time ago since I told him.

"I love you, Ethan. Thank you." I say, and he chuckles as he straddles the bike seat, leaving plenty of room at the back for me.

"I love you, too. Come 'ere." He uses his middle and ring finger, bending them in a sinful way, towards himself, and so I do, ignoring the flame in my cheeks. When I'm in the same proximity of him, he takes the black hair-tie from his wrist and reaches around my head to put my hair in a low pony. "Can't have your hair getting messy in the wind, can we?"

I lean down to him, planting a short chaste kiss on his lips, and pull back, giving him a grin before I push the helmet on my head, tucking in my hair. He joins me, putting on his, and when we're ready, he holds out his hand for me to take.

With no nerves in sight, just anticipation of adrenaline, I throw my leg over the bike, but before I can get comfortable on the leather seat, I stand on the little pegs, so I can pull my dress down since it'd ridden up slightly. When I'm pleased that it's passed my ass, I sit back down and wrap my arms around his waist.

"Hold tight." He chuckles, revving the engine, and in seconds we're off.

A squeal of joy leaves me and I tuck my chin into his shoulder, holding on tight as we start the journey to God-knows-where.

Instead of going the way we came in, he pulls down a small side-street that leaves me wondering if we can even drive a motorcycle through there, but my thoughts are caught off with the view we're greeted with.

The small street leads to the massive beach front that's packed with amusements, restaurants, café's, gift shops, bars and a few little clubs. The promenade it beautifully lit up, the peer as well, both swarming with people.

I'm almost definitely sure we're not allowed on here with a bike.

"Ethan." I warn him, and all I can hear, as well as the engine, is his sweet laughter as we go faster.

I giggle, tucking my head once again into his shoulder as we speed down the promenade in the bike lane, happiness swarming me.

I'm so fucking happy.

My view is gorgeous, the ocean's glistening as the sun continues to set, and I feel so fucking alive.

Children are playing on the beach with their families. Teenagers in groups outside the amusements. Young adults hanging outside the bars. But, all their attention is on the Harley speeding its way past.

I feel on top of the world, my adrenaline at its peak and I'm ravelling in it.

Less than a minute of speeding down the bike lane, we're slowing down and Ethan's careful as he exits it and turns left onto the promenade, people stopping in their tracks, letting him do so.

It's not as dangerous as my first thoughts expected, he pulls up at the corner of an old stone restaurant, the one I'm guessing we're going to, and he turns the bike off. He kicks down the stand, and I let out a breath, smiling wildly when I get off with my numb-like legs. They feel like jelly.

"That okay for you, malady? Better than walking?" He asks and I nod, nibbling on my bottom lip as I pull my dress down. "I'm glad, now pass me your helmet, I'll put it in here."

"Will you be completely honest about my hair?" I ask, unfastening it, and he gives me a look that's not assuring in the slightest. "Ethan, you see this dress? You won't see underneath it if you don't tell me the truth."

"You play dirty." He comments, getting off the bike.

"Yeah, well." I shrug, passing him the helmet, and when he takes it from me, I fly my hands straight to my hair, to take it out of its pony and comb my fingers through it.

"It looks good, don't worry." He assures me, and I trust his word from the threat beforehand.

I watch him unlock and lift the seat, putting the helmets in there, and he does a few things with the bike before turning towards me with a wide smile. "Let's go, darling. We have a reservation to get to."

"Aren't we early? I mean, what would have happened if I refused to get on the bike, and we had to walk?" I ask, and he chuckles, his hand slotting in mine.

"I made a reservation for five minutes, and one for thirty. I'm going to cancel the latter." He says, and I lean into his side, raising my brows, surprised he had this all planned.

"I love you; you know?" I murmur, and he smiles down at me.

"I love you, too, my gorgeous girl." He replies, and the way he said 'my gorgeous girl' awakens the butterflies that swarm my whole body, especially my lower belly. I don't know how I'm going to survive this date, and it hasn't even started.

We're greeted by a young gentleman at the door, and after conversing with Ethan for a minute or two about the double reservation, he offers to show us to our table, holding two menus. Ethan walks behind me, keeping his hand on my lower back as we follow the man, and I raise a questioning brow when we're led up the stairs, and Ethan only shrugs innocently in response.

As I walk the stairs, I can almost feel his eyes on my ass, so to be a tease, I make sure to sway my hips a little more, and I was right because as soon as I do, one of his hands grabs my ass. When I turn around to scold him, he acts as innocent as he can, smoothing my dress down and giving me a cheeky smile.

I turn away and my jaw drops when we reach the upstairs floor. The interior of the restaurant downstairs was beautiful, dark accents and dim lights, setting a romantic vibe to the place. But up here – wow, it's perfect – up here, light accents and fairy lights litter the rooftop of the restaurant. The sun is setting beautifully in the distance. It's fucking perfect.

"Ethan." I breathe out, and he grins, taking hold of my hand.

The nice waiter gestures to the table at the front of the roof, giving us an amazing view of the ocean and promenade. So, not only has Ethan taken my breath away from his appearance tonight, but he's done so twice from this beautiful view as well.

Ethan pulls out my chair for me which makes me blush at the simple gesture, and he takes the seat in front of me as the waiter gives us a menu each. "I will be back to take your order in five or so minute, gives you time to look through the menu. Would you like a bottle for the table?"

"Yeah. Please can we have a bottle of white?" Ethan turns to him, pulling out his wallet to show his ID, and I smile appreciatively.

"Of course, is there any particular brand you're fond of?" The waiter asks, raising a curious brow.

"Surprise us." Ethan replies back, and with that he leaves us be. Ethan turns to me, a wide smile on his face. "So, you like?"

"Like? Are you serious? I love it, Ethan." I tell him, taking in my view – a handsome man in front of me, the sun setting in the distance. "I don't think it can get better than this."

"I have some more tricks up my sleeve, darling. Don't think this is it." He says in teasing tone, and I bite down on my lip.

"You didn't have to." I whisper.

"I did." He's immediate with his answer. "We were dating for over a month, I was your boyfriend for three weeks, which yes, isn't long, but there should have been a date. We never went on a first date. We went to coffee, we went to New York, but not once did I step up and ask you to go out for a meal with me. I was inexperienced, still am, but I want to try with you. I want this to go well for us this time."

"I loved our time together." I murmur, and he takes my hands, glaring at me for picking at the freshly painted black nails, matching his. "I hate that you think so low of yourself. It's the twenty-first century, I could have asked you. We were so caught up in... life, it just wasn't on our mind. We happened at the wrong time. Now is the... right time."

"You sound awfully sure." He comments sarcastically and I chuckle, shrugging. "I think it's the right time too. Back then, I was still very much... a void."

His words worry me. He thinks he was a void?

"Baby, you-" I'm cut off.

"You can't say anything to change my opinion on that." He's adamant of the fact – the fact I'm sure isn't true. "The waiter should be coming back soon, let's find what we want to eat, yeah?"

I reluctantly nod. "Sure."

I hate that he thinks so low of himself. A void, really? What does that mean? And my next question is even harder to wrap my head around – will I ever know what he means by that?

After scanning front to back, inside and out on the menu of this mixed cuisine restaurant, I finally chose all of my options of starter, main and dessert. The latter I wish was a little more personal with the name of Ethan Kane in fancy writing, but I'm sure I can add that on my mental menu for the later.

The waiter comes back, a bottle of wine in a bucket on ice for us, and then we proceed to order. The man was very nice and allowed us to order all of our courses all at once, so it'd be easier, and once he leaves, Ethan opens the bottle for us.

"Are you okay?" He asks me, pouring a glass for me, and I blink, giving him a silent nod. "Darling, talk. If there's something wrong, I want to know. Is it about what I said?"

"Ethan, it's fine, let's enjoy our date." I paint on a smile.

"Darling." He tries again.

"I don't like that there's still secrets between us, and that makes me a hypocrite, I know." I reluctantly tell him, taking a gulp of my wine, and my eyes widen at the taste – this is nice. "You don't even need to explain yourself, I'm fine."

"Is it about the comment? About calling myself void of emotion?" He asks, and the extra two words onto that comment twists the knife lodged in my heart. "From your face alone, I'm going with yes. Darling, don't worry about it."

"Then why bring it up in the first place?" I ask with a sigh. I hate pressing issues that have none of my business, but now I'm worried for him. "Surely, you'd know I'd pick up on it, right? I mean, you are my... fuck- whatever you are."

"It honestly just slipped out, but you don't have to worry. I'm okay now." He says.

"That makes things better." I take another gulp of my wine, and he grabs my hand, forcing me to put the glass back down on the table.

"Something very traumatic happened to me in those homes as you are somewhat aware of, and again, we're not in the right place to talk about it." He says, running his hand through his hair, and I agree, it isn't and I don't want him to tell me, not here. "Growing up in environments of no compassion, love or laughter – it's hardly a surprise I turned out the way I did."

"You turned out pretty great in my opinion." I mumble under my breath, and he sends me an amused smile.

"Just- I didn't know how to love, how to feel, how to do anything but fight. Boxing has been my only passion, the only thing I've ever felt anything for... before you, that is." He admits, and I take his hands in mine over the table, my heart warming at his words. "I'm aware that before you I still had friends, I had a family, and have done since I was fourteen, but honestly, Francesca, they were just people."

He winces at his words and I rub my thumb over his knuckle to comfort him. "You don't have to tell me, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have let it get to me-"

"No. No, don't apologize, anyone would react like that." He assures me. "High school was rocky, I was the bad boy as I was so popularly called. I used to ride Darla to school every morning, rock up in a leather jacket, even had a nose piercing at one point."

I snort at the vision, smacking my hand over my mouth. "I'm sorry."

"No, laugh, I encourage you." He chuckles, and let out another low giggle. "Carrying on; I didn't have friends when I got adopted, I spent the whole of high school pretty much alone, much to my own fault. The jocks hated me because I got the attention of their girlfriends, and girls just wanted a hookup. I didn't care though, I had no opinion on the fact people didn't like me. I only just graduated with sucky grades because most of the time I didn't show up or I was fucking a girl somewhere, whether it was a classroom, bathr-"

"I get it." I cut him off, grimacing at the fact. "Not that I'm judging you, I mean, we've all been there, but I don't want a vision and a list."

"Sorry." He winces, and I chuckle at his shyness. "Anyway, Scar enrolled me into college behind my back once I'd graduated, something that I never expected he'd do. I was pissed, that's an understatement. At the time – at eighteen-year-old – I was working towards going pro, it was my dream, my passion, my literal life, and it was as if he had stamped on it by sending me to college. It was my idea of a nightmare – four years of hell."

"Why did you agree?" I wonder.

"Because as a little boy I wanted to go to college, and if boxing wasn't a thing, I'd be jumping at the opportunity." He admits, and I smile at the thought of little Ethan dreaming of college life. "Scar was being smart – I was an eighteen-year-old and if boxing didn't work out, I'd be screwed to put it bluntly. I'd have hardly any qualifications, especially with the grades I got in high school. So, I accepted, decided engineering would be my major, and went to college. I met friends, none that I was close with. I partied, none that I truly enjoyed. I slept about, none that were good."

"Ethan." I pity his words.

"Maria and Scar caught on pretty quick, and I admitted that I hated living in the frat house, that the parties were boring, and I just didn't like it. So, they got me a dorm. I lived there for a week before moving back home because it wasn't for me – I was simply going to college because of boxing." He admits and I'm not surprised, I mean it's his main love. "I missed it so much, I wanted to feel again, so, Scar gave me a job at the gym and offered to train me, but going pro would have to wait. If anything I'd have small matches with younger boxers like myself. My routine became training, college, work and... sex – something I don't want to admit, but it was. That became my life. I didn't have time to have feelings, I was a breathing robot. I acted with violence and started fights usually just to feel something because at one point, boxing became numb too. So, yeah, before you, I was a void of emotion, a void of life, and not really much of a person."

"Ethan." I breathe out, not knowing what to say. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm okay now, though... because of you." He admits, and I shake my head.

"You weren't a void of emotion, you were a lost boy. You just told me you felt anger, you loved boxing. When we met, you helped me through a panic attack. At the gym, you comforted me when I was crying – you didn't even know me, Ethan, and you helped me." I need for him to see this from my point of view. "You're basically saying that throughout your life, it was like living an autopilot until you met me, apart from boxing, but I don't believe it. I don't believe that meeting me has changed you that drastically. I'm only a person."

"You're not only a person, Francesca." He refuses to see this. "You've made me see things in a different light. Before you, I never thought I had a family, but I do, I do. I have a mom, a dad, a brother, a sister and an uncle that's pretty much my brother – but I never fucking saw that. I have friends now, amazing friends."

"Your family was always there." I whisper, squeezing his hand once more. "They were always there. This isn't about your lack of emotions, this sounds like a case of denial. There's nothing wrong with that either, no one can blame you from being in denial of it. Just don't think you were an emotionless monster before me, because you weren't. You have a big heart, Ethan, not just for me, but for everyone around you."

He doesn't say anything, he just stares at me in disbelief.

"Ethan, just because I shone a light on things, doesn't mean that they weren't there in the dark all along." I say softly.

"Fuck." He clears his throat, giving me a smile. "Ever thought of being a phycologist?"

"Shut up, I'm only telling you what I think." I chuckle, brushing it off.

"You really think I wasn't emotionless?" He asks, his tone laced with vulnerability.

"The examples you just gave me prove you weren't. You just told me you had no friends in high school. You hooked up with girls. You were pushed into the idea of college. You didn't like partying which is normal, it's not all fun, especially when you're living in a frat. I don't think you were emotionless, I just think you were lonely, Ethan." I search his face after I'm done speaking, and he takes a deep breath, nodding slightly. "That's okay, you know? To be lonely. I've felt lonely in a crowded room. It's a feeling, Ethan, and it can take over your life if you let it."

"Oh my Jesus Christ, do you want to me make me cry, woman?" He croaks out, and I smile, squeezing his hand once more before grabbing my wine glass, and he quickly wipes his eyes. "Is that nice?"

"The wine? Perfect." I answer, and he chuckles as I take another sip. "I'm glad you opened up to me."

"I wish it hadn't been on our first ever date, but now you know." He shrugs nonchalantly to himself. "I'm glad though, it's made me feel better about how I perceive myself, I guess."

"I hate that you thought that to begin with." I whisper.

"I'm glad you're in my life, Francesca Arabella Salatino." He muses.

"Oh, really? We're pulling out the middle names, are we, Ethan Anthony Kane?" I tease, and his smile drops. "Yeah, two can play at that game."

"You have a pretty middle name though!" He points out, making me laugh.

"Yours is handsome, too." I say and he frowns, shaking his head. "Yes, it is. If your first name was Anthony, I'd love you just as much as you are called Ethan."

"It's an old person's name." He's not letting this go, is he?

"I might start calling you Anthony from on." I mutter to myself and in a flash, his hand is under the table, making its way up my leg. Breathlessly, I narrow my eyes at him. "Ethan, you can't do that here."

"Darling, you're not saying stop." He taunts, and I bite down on my lower lip as his hand travels higher under my dress. "You want me to finger you like a little slut in the middle of a restaurant?"

"Ethan." I warn him, wide eyes, yet again the word 'stop' nowhere in sight. I'm aware that without people knowing, he can't touch me that far because his hand would be visibly reaching under the table, but the thought causes my heart to strum harshly against my chest.

"Yes, princess?" He asks, acting innocently – yet another nickname that has me a puddle in my seat. If anyone else called me this, I'd hate it, but with Ethan, he could call me anything and I'd not care.

"Ethan, no." I finally give him his answer, and with that he removes his hand from my leg and straightens up in his seat. "Thank you. I think we can wait a couple hours to get back to the house, don't you?"

"I don't know, your makeup looks a little too perfect right now." He says in a daze as he checks me out, and I splutter out a laugh. "What? It was a compliment."

"Sure." I drag out the word, rolling my eyes.

"Honestly, I need you walking properly for the rest of our date, so a quickie is out of question anyway." He says in a hushed voice – considerate of him, I know.

"You're head is just always in the gutter, isn't it? How were we just friends?" I ask, mostly rhetorical.

"Lots of cold showers." He's immediate with his answer which makes me laugh, and he shrugs shamelessly. "I'm not lying."

"I don't think you are." I don't – it's Ethan.

"Don't act so innocent, you-"

Ethan clears his throat, forgetting his sentence, and I frown at him, only for him to nod in the direction of the stairs where our waiter is coming back with our food.

I ordered a salad, surprising I know, but it's something I've been craving, and I knew if I'm having three courses, I didn't want anything heavy to begin with. Ethan ordered grilled halloumi fries though, and I'm now regretting my decision because they look really good.

"You want a bit?" He asks, and I shake my head, which he narrows his eyes at. "You're eyeing my food how I eye you."

"So, I'm your foo-" I stop myself in realization, groaning and rolling my eyes. "I hate you so much, Ethan Kane."

"I love you, too, Francesca Salatino." He murmurs, handing me a fork with a bit of the grilled halloumi on. "Eat it."

"I'm fine, seriously." I hate taking food from people.

"Open your mouth for me, darling." He demands softly, and my sinful mind spirals, so I do as I'm told, letting him put the cheese in my mouth, before I get carried away with myself.

"Mhm, it's really good." I mumble, nodding. It really is, and it's just making me regret my choice further. But the salad is good also.

"Yeah, it is." He agrees.

"So, I've been thinking." I start casually and he groans, putting his fork down. "What? Is that so bad?"

"Yes. Don't think. Life is always much better with no thinking." He says, and I roll my eyes at his dramatics.

"I want another tattoo." I admit, and he raises his brows in shock. "I feel bad for telling Hanna that I didn't, so I'm going to ask if she wants to come with me when we get back."

"Not me?" He pouts like a child.

"I mean... do you want to spend hours with me and Hanna? You don't exactly get along well." I cringe at my words.

"She apologized, you know?" He brings up, and I frown, not expecting that. "Yeah, she felt awful about painting a picture of me based on something she span up in her head. But, I understand why, like she's one of your best friends, and she thought I broke you – which I did. Anyway, she gushed this massive apology to me, outside this morning, and even asked if we could be friends, so I think that's progress. And I could definitely sit in a room with you two and get a tattoo, might get another for myself."

"You're becoming an addict." I stifle a laugh, and he shrugs, nodding. "But, I don't blame you. And I'm glad Hanna spoke to you – she's a good egg, just a bit overprotective of her friends. She's like my big sister, and she has my back, even before she has all the facts right, which always lands her in shit. But she doesn't mean bad by it."

"I know, that's actually what she said, but obviously in different words." He says and I sigh, giving him a smile. "You okay, pretty girl?"

"Yeah, I'm just happy." I answer breathlessly, squeezing my legs together from how that stupid nickname has effected me – how is his words able to do this? "So, what's your next tattoo idea since you're planning your umpteenth?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" He retorts.

"An arrow." I answer simply and he frowns, tilting his head to the side.

"I'm not judging, but why? Why an arrow?" He asks, almost confused.

"You have a stickman on you." I point out defensively. "So, shut the fuck up."

"Okay, okay, I get it." He laughs, taking a drink of his wine. "Tell me why an arrow?"

"Um, because of the quote: 'An arrow can only be shot by pulling it backward. So, when life is dragging you back with difficulties, it means it's going to launch you into something great. So, just focus, and keep aiming.' So, yeah that's why I want the tattoo, it's meaningful and I'm hoping to get my mom's birthday underneath it in Roman numerals." I become shy talking about this because it's only an idea and I don't think it's any good.

"I love it." He immediately says, giving me a smile. "Where would you get it?"

"I don't know honestly, maybe on my collar bone? I have no clue." I answer honestly.

"I can't wait to see you covered in tattoos." He chuckles, and I shake my head. "Oh, you will be. You're most likely thinking of your fifth right now."

"And what are you on? Twenty?" I throw in his face, not wanting to admit how right he is.

"You're dramatic." He comments, shaking his head with a laugh. "But, I've actually lost count. Maybe when we're home you can do some counting for me with your tongue?"

"Ethan." I whisper, shaking my head at him. "Not here, please kindly shut the fuck up."

"Fine, fine." He chuckles to himself. "I'm proud of you; you know?"

"How do you mean?" I'm confused but grateful for his random comment.

"Two days ago you arrived at the gym wearing leggings and you were nervous about wearing shorts inside with me. In two days, you've done and overcome so much. You came shopping with me this morning in shorts. You were on the beach wearing a bikini – God, you looked good. And now, now you're wearing a dress, something you have been adamant you couldn't wear. And I'm so proud of you because you've come so far, baby." His goal must be to make me cry because a knot is forming in my throat and my eyes are becoming blurrier.

"I couldn't have done it without you." I mumble because it's true.

"No. Don't say that. You've done this, only you. Don't put down your progress because of me" He's adamant with his words.

"But, I wouldn't have done all this without you." I excuse and he shakes his head, not having it. "No. Without you, I wouldn't have worn shorts. Without you, I wouldn't have taken my shirt off at the beach. Without you, I wouldn't be wearing this dress. I feel comfortable because of you. You make me feel safe, Ethan."

"I may have been beside you; assuring you; making sure you feel safe, but you're the one that did those things. Be incredibly proud of yourself, Francesca, because I am. So proud." He insists, and I exhale a deep breath before taking a drink of my wine. "You're doing amazing, darling. Please see that."

"It's hard to see something normal as progress, I just feel stupid mostly." I admit, and a soft frown appears on his face. "I am proud of myself, incredibly, but there is nagging thoughts in the back of my mind, telling me that I'm being stupid and this is taking too long. I am proud of myself though."

"You should be. And don't listen to those thoughts, they're lying." He quickly adds the latter, and I smile at how he's getting protective over my own thoughts.

"You're awfully demanding, Mr Kane." I muse, deciding to lighten the topics back up since all we've done is talk about depressing subjects. Calling him that though, that may have been the wrong move.

"Seriously? Am I a teacher?" He asks with an amused frown.

You could tutor me in a few things...

"Yes. Well, no. You're a personal trainer, it's kinda like teaching." I point out, and he rolls his eyes. "Is it not?"

"Well, yeah kinda." He says with a chuckle. "How's your salad?"

"Actually really good. I know I could have gotten literally anything else, but I really fancied it." I stab my fork into the bowl, and he laughs as I take a bite – ladylike, I know. "I'm looking forward to my burger though."

"I was going to get a Hawaiian one, but I thought you'd truly be appalled and wouldn't speak to me ever again, so I went with steak." He reveals, a cheeky smile on his face.

"Okay, hear me out, no judgement – how is it possible to like warm pineapple?" There's not one ounce of hatred towards him, I'm just curious. "It's just, I don't know, weird. Like, it's mushy warm fruit mixed with melted cheese – it doesn't sit right with me."

"The texture doesn't bother me, and I personally think it's really nice. It gives a blend of sweetness to the food. It's not everyone's thing though." He shrugs.

"I think if it'd be cold pineapple, I'd like it, but not warm – that's my problem... I think." I mutter, and he hums, nodding. "Actually no, it's still weird for me. But again, no judging."

"I mean, I think I traumatized you yesterday at the fair by giving you my pizza." He adds, and I playfully narrow my eyes at him.

"I'm going to ignore you did that because I'm more bothered about the fact that, that was yesterday." I say in disbelief. "So much has happened since then."

"It has." He agrees, taking a sip of his wine. "Have we even slept?"

"Yes, I can confirm we have slept." I chuckle, mirroring his actions by picking up my own glass. "Speaking of, whose bed am I sleeping in tonight?"

"I don't know, where do you want to sleep?" He asks in an equally teasing tone.

"Depends on how this date goes." I retort, finishing my glass of wine off.

"Well, if you keep your alcohol intake to... two glasses, I'm hoping naked and in my bed, but if you're drunk, we're getting pajamas on and watching TikTok's together." He answers, and I don't know why, but that makes me smile so much. "But, I'd prefer the former."

"Hey! My 'for you' page at the minute is hilarious." I joke, and he laughs, shaking his head slightly. "Fine, yes, I'll be careful with how much I drink, but this works both ways – you're also driving us back."

"I know, which is why I'm only have one glass." He says, giving me an assuring smile.

"Thank you." It means a lot to me. "So, question."

"Proceed." He chuckles.

"Where did you get the suit? I'm not at all complaining, but I am curious." I ask him, taking in his dashing state. He's so fucking handsome – naturally, and I didn't think he could possibly get more attractive, but apparently he can, since he has.

"We went to a wedding last year... had to steal Scar's shirt because my arms have gotten bigger since I was here, and I just thought, why not?" He shrugs. "And I wanted to look good for you; you deserve better than jeans and a t-shirt."

"You look good either way, Ethan." I assure him.

"Have I told you, you look beautiful?" He asks, and I nod shyly. "Well, I'll tell you again – Francesca, you look absolutely out-of-this-world beautiful."

"Ethan." I cover my cheeks, them burning with a blush. "What did I do to deserve you? To deserve this?"

My question is to no one in particular – anyone who is willing to answer really. Ethan is my night in shining an armor, not that I'll ever admit it to him, and I'd like to thank whoever made us collide. Our worlds collided at the perfect time, for us as individuals, and if it was God's doing, a God, Goddess, Spirit, Ghost... Mom – I just liked to thank them because he saved me when I so desperately needed saving.

"You deserve better – you deserve the world." He murmurs with a little smile, it not reaching his eyes.

"You are my world." I whisper, but before he can reply, our waiter comes back to take away our plates and the topic is dropped.

We were at the restaurant for over two hours, and between the three delicious courses, conversation never stops. Conversation – with us – flows so easily; it's simple. I find comfort in his voice, his words even when they're crude and dirty. He's the only person able to affect me the way he does; the way I squirm under his stare; the way I catch myself breathless from simple words just because of the way he said it; the way he makes me fall deeper in love with him with every second that passes us by.

I love him. So fucking much.

"Now, get on, little red, we have plans to get to, things to see." He says, in an all too cocky tone, tapping the bike seat. He will be the death of me.

Scowling as I do, I secure my helmet on my head and tug down my dress for the umpteenth time before swinging my legs over the bike. When I have my arms tightly secured around his waist, we're off once again, and butterflies ignite every nerve of my being.

Throughout dinner, it was torturous to control myself and not break for my needs, which Ethan didn't help in the slightest, he only made it much worse. The little devil in me, at one point, was so tempted to dismiss myself and get off in a bathroom stall, but I didn't even let myself think it through, purely appalled that I even thought of doing that.

My hormones have gone mental today – Ethan has ignited the flame in me again, and I'm worried for my sanity that it won't burn out.

And now; now I'm straddling this bike, my legs widely spread, my chest flush against his back, and with the vibrations running through me, I have to bite my lip to contain whatever noises try to escape my lips. I hate that he turns me on so much, and I'm at the end of my tether – the bike not at all helping the state in between my thighs.

"Ethan." I mumble against his back, and I hear a slight hum in response. "How long do you think it'll be until we get back?"

"You desperate for me, baby?" He asks, choosing to be a tease instead of answering a simple question, and I groan, deciding not to answer his all-too-true statement. "I didn't hear that? Speak up."

"Ethan." I deadpan.

"Depends, maybe just over an hour, maybe a little less?" He finally answers, and I'm happy with his honesty, even though the throbbing between my legs is not.

For the short journey, I keep my head tucked into the nook between his shoulder and neck, smiling as we make our way down the beautifully lit promenade – it seems so peaceful on a night – the wind whipping around us, sending a chill down my spine.

I'm not an easily confused person, but with his further plans for the rest of the night, my curiosity is getting the best of me and I'm more confused as ever when we turn onto a main road. As amazing as tonight has been already, I honestly thought this was all he had planned – a perfect date, in great company – but apparently not.

A frown etches its way onto my face when we approach the familiar yellow 'm' lit up in the distance, only confusing me further. Why are we driving towards a McDonald's? That's my question. We've ate – we've eaten a lot actually, more than I'd usually have, so I'm confused, really confused as to why we're now pulling into the parking lot.

"Ethan, what are we- I'm confused." I splutter out my thoughts, them being a jumbled up mess, but he doesn't answer me. Can he hear me? Or is he just being plain rude? Probably the latter.

"Secrets, damsel." He chuckles, turning off the bike, and I bite my tongue at the nickname. I hated it so much at the beginning, still kind of do, but now I've somewhat warmed up to it. He stopped calling me it for a while, and I'm not too mad about it being back.

"Ethan, I don't understand how McDonald's after a large meal is much of a good idea, but sure, I'll go along with this." I say, watching him get off the bike while I take off my helmet. "How's my-"

I don't even get to finish my sentence before I'm cut off by Ethan, his hand cupping my face. "You look perfect, your hair is great; I love it like this."

"I love you." I quickly tell him, it sounding like a massive secret, which he chuckles at.

"Take my hand, I wanna get you something." He holds out his hand and I hesitantly take it, getting off the bike. "Fuck me, Francesca."

"What?" Confused, again, and he smirks, pulling down my dress from her.

"You wet for me, darling?" He whispers out in a husky tone, and my eyes go wide before they're flying straight towards the bike seat. "Only a little longer, then you'll have my tongue in that sweet cunt of yours."

"Ethan." I whine out quietly through clenched teeth, humiliation falling over me, but the throbbing between my legs only getting worse. "I- just... how much longer?"

"Like I said, maybe an hour." He answers, and I fight the urge to not whine again.

Ethan puts the helmets in the seat, and then slips his hand in mine. He squeezes it, giving me a smile and I reciprocate, smiling down at our bound hands – holding hands, it's such a simple act, yet so underrated. The amount of love I feel from simply holding hands is so hard to explain.

We make our way into the brightly lit restaurant – if you can really call McDonald's a restaurant, and I keep quite, waiting in line with him to order. Ethan and I must look like idiots – him wearing a dashing suit, me in a dress. Not that I'm particularly bothered about other peoples opinions, and it's surprisingly quiet for a weekend anyway, especially since we're near the clubs, but I'm glad since I'm not too comfortable wearing this dress around drunken strangers.

There's not much of a wait, two or three people waiting for their orders at the side, one person in front of us waiting to be served, and so, once it's finally our turn to order, I blindly follow Ethan in front of me, still pretty much clueless.

My brows furrow into a frown when I hear his random order. "Can I have a chicken nugget share box, please?"

Why the fuck is he ordering us chicken nuggets? We have eaten so much tonight. I don't think I could eat another thing.

Like the annoying person I am, I ask him that exact question over twenty times while we wait to be served. Though, not once does he answer me straight, he only replies with teasing comments and empty threats if I didn't stop asking.

We are soon given our order, it being in a takeout brown bag – we aren't sitting in then, and with my hand still in Ethan's, I follow him back to his Harley. His beautiful fucking bike that I knew nothing about until today.

I'm so fucking confused.

"Ethan, what the fuck? Just tell me what we're doing and why you got the nuggets because this makes no sense." I ask, only for him to force my helmet back on over my large head and I groan, staring at him with pouted lips.

"Five minutes, can you wait for me, darling?" He asks, his tone teasing, but I sense some nerves from him.

He knew what he was doing, pulling out the nickname. He could call me anything, and I'd be a mess for him, but 'darling' coming out of his mouth, directed at me, affects me in a way I have never experienced before. He's fucking gripped me, and I don't think I'll ever stop blushing over his words and teasing antics until he legs go.

I don't want him to let go.

"Hold onto that bag for me, keep it safe for me, yeah? Don't want you losing it, it's important." He asks, leaving my curiosity to go in yet another direction. I hate surprise, so much, and I'm trying my best not to meddle but it's hard, especially with trust issues. I don't know where we're going, not really, but I trust Ethan. He wouldn't kill me, not on Darla anyway and especially not with nuggets.

"How are chicken nuggets important?" I question, but he doesn't answer, he straddles the bike instead, sitting down in his previous position.

Faking a groan, I follow suit, the nuggets close to my chest as I straddle the bike seat, and he looks back at me. "Hold tight, my little devil."

I do as he says, holding onto the bag of nuggets while still holding tight onto him, and like every time we've set off, I suck in breath, closing my eyes in euphoric adrenaline. I love it so much, and I love driving with him – there's a difference, a sense of control with the bike, and my nerves are settled as he swerves onto the main road once again.

It's darker than before, so while I usually love looking around on our journey, I can't really focus now. The stars shining above us though, they have something elegant about them tonight, they look pretty – like they're speaking a thousand words for me.

It's not until the ground beneath us changes and it feels different, do I snap out of my trance of staring at the pretty stars, and a gasp catches in my throat at my surroundings. We're leading up a grassy hill or mountain, most likely illegally, but the further we go, the more the city gets smaller and much more beautiful.

The lights of the promenade on full view, the ocean's waves glistening under the moon – it's a perfect picture.

"Ethan." I have to catch my breath, and he chuckles, briefly looking over at my shoulder to give me a dashing smile.

He slows down the bike as we approach the very top and eventually kills the engine when we come to a holt, leaving the front light on for us. He climbs off and removes his helmet before he turns to me with a grin, the smile reaching his eyes. "Surprise."

"Ethan." I repeat, still pretty much out of it, consumed with astonishment.

"I'd like it if you'd take your helmet off and sit down on the grass with me. We're going to eat some nuggets." He sounds... shy as he speaks, and I nod, reaching for the helmet once again. We've just ate a three course meal, and I'm really struggling to understand what he's doing.

Ethan shrugs off his jacket, lying it on the ground, and I hesitantly walk over to him, the chicken nuggets in hand. He sits down and pats the space next to him, and I let out a happy sigh, joining him.

"Thanks for the nuggets." He takes them from me, and I frown at him. What is going on inside that mind of his? "Remember what you told me about my nuggets?"

"No." I purse my lips – I have no idea what he's talking about, and I feel bad for not being able to go along with this.

"On Thursday, I bought twenty and because you were my ex, I only gave you one... well, eventually four, but originally, one, so let's go with that." He says with a chuckle, and I look over to him with a smile. How does that seem so long ago but it actually was only three days? "Well, I uh- I don't want to just give you one anymore."

"What- what do you mean, Ethan?" I giggle nervously, my eyes searching his face for the answer.

"Francesca... when I asked- well demanded, that you were to be my girlfriend, you said yes, I was worried it wasn't perfect enough for you." He starts, letting out an uneven, shaky breath. "But then... then you then told me that if I were to ask you to be my girlfriend over McDonald's, that, that would've been perfect, because that would mean you were mine. So, here I am... asking you, Francesca Arabella Salatino, if you will be my girlfriend once more? And I hope for the last time."

I don't know when I started to cry, I really don't, but I can't seem to stop the happy tears from flooding my cheeks, and so, I straddle his waist, clinging onto him as I let out a little sob. "Yes. Yes, that's all I want, Ethan."

"Now, kiss me. We have ten nuggets each to share and I need to get you home." He says somewhat desperately, and I giggle, pulling away, hoping my makeup isn't ruined.

"You can't expect me to eat all those." I point at the bag.

"Meh, I have an amazing idea on how we can burn them off, I think we'll be fine." He shrugs carelessly like he hasn't got a boxing match in less than a week. He cheekily, fists my hair and pulls me closer to him by the back of my neck, and in a second his lips are on mine in a needy kiss.

Ethan is officially mine again.

~~~~~

A/N

My sister wrote the ending for me because she knew how much I was struggling finishing this chapter, and I literally bawled my eyes out when I read it. It is edited now, so there is a few new things, but it's exactly how I planned it, and I love it.

Also, if you love motorbikes or motorcycles – whatever you call them – this is not the end with Darla. I was supposed to write her in from the very beginning, but she's here now. If anyone is wondering why she's at the beach house, you will have to wait and see.

When I tell you that you aren't ready for the next chapter, please take that seriously. Let me just throw holy water over all of you and myself before we continue...

Life update: This week hasn't been easy, I've actually not been great mentally the last two weeks, but I'll be okay – I'm very confused by what is actually wrong with me because I really don't know.

I'm looking forward to this weekend though, I'm going on a surprise trip on Sunday, and I'm meeting my best friend for the first time on Saturday which I can't wait for – she's my life, and a lot is being changed for us to meet, and I couldn't be more grateful for her family and mine for this.

Question of the chapter:

What is one thing you want to see in this book? I really would like to know even though I have got the full plan – 82 chapters baby! Hope you will stay for the ride.

I hope this chapter was okay!

Thank you for reading! Please comment your thoughts, vote by pressing the little star, and if you want, you can follow me too. I'm also on Instagram – @daisyclouds89 Xx

9411 words

~B