Chapter 18 Ashton #2
My phone chimes again, and I turn it over so it’s face up on my desk.
It’s my father. Probably trying to get me to come back to the company again.
He’s been going back and forth between practically begging me to come back and insulting me for leaving in the first place, threatening me with various consequences, mostly involving my trust fund.
It feels like dealing with a toxic ex. About a week ago, I started ignoring his texts and calls altogether.
I swipe up my phone and delete the texts without even looking.
Draining the last of my coffee, I’m about to get a refill when my door slams open.
Declan stands in the doorway holding a motorcycle helmet against his hip.
He’s leaning against the door, his legs crossed at the ankles.
Darkness pools under his right eye and his dirty blonde hair is disheveled.
His lip is split right next to his lip ring, and there’s some crusted blood beneath it.
“What the hell, Dec?”
“What?” he asks casually as he crosses over the threshold and takes a seat across from me, tossing his helmet on the floor.
“Picking fights with bikers again?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. He shrugs and lifts his leg up to rest across his lap.
“It’s nine-thirty in the morning. Is this from last night?” I gesture to the shiner blooming under his lower lid.
His dark eyes simmer, but he ignores my question.
“Why are you here, Declan? You’ve never stepped foot in this office before.”
“Can’t a guy just visit his oldest friend?” he smirks.
“You want something.”
“Ouch,” he winces, holding his hand to his chest. “I’m hurt, Ash. How many years have we been friends, and you think I would just come in here to use you?”
I look up toward my open office door, just to gauge his reaction. Sure enough, he flips his head back to see what I’m looking at, his eyes nervously darting back and forth.
“She’s not here,” I tell him. I don’t have to say who.
“I know,” he says, relaxing back into the chair. “I saw her car leave.”
I shake my head. “I’m honestly not sure who you’re stalking at this point. Me or her.”
“It can be both,” he says with a wink. I hear the distant sound of a chair scraping against wood and look up to see Allie getting up from her desk. Shit—don’t come in here. I don’t need her interacting with Declan any more than she already has.
Ever the fucking detective, Dec seems to notice the change in my face. “Wait, why do you look nervous?”
“I don’t.”
“Yeah, you do.”
My best friend turns around again to see what I’m looking at. I breathe a sigh of relief. Allie’s just at the photocopier. When he turns back, he studies me for a moment. In another life, Declan would have made a great cop. He’s a fucking human lie detector.
“Ahhh, I see,” he goads. “You finally fucked her. Good for you. Hopefully, you got it out of your system.”
“I don’t kiss and tell.”
Declan chuckles. “That’s the dumbest fucking thing you can say when you don’t want someone to know.” Skylar’s similar words ring in my ear. What have I done to deserve not one, but two meddling best friends?
“Interesting,” I say. “You know who else said that exact same thing to me recently?”
His eyes darken. They’re supposed to be brown, but I swear most of the time, they’re almost pitch black.
He leans forward. “So how was it?” he stage-whispers. “As good as you were hoping? She’s got a juicy ass. I’ll give you that. I bet it jiggles when you—”
I slam my hand on the desk before he can finish his sentence. “Keep talking about her ass,” I snap.
Declan moves back, a grotesque smile settling on his face. “Oh shit, it’s worse than I thought.”
I sigh and pinch my forehead with my thumb and forefinger. “Just tell me what you want, Dec. I have a busy day.”
“The Brookline charity. I need you to be there,” he says, running his hand through his messy hair.
“Why?”
“To distract my father from the fact that I won’t have a date.”
“Why won’t you have a date?”
“This isn’t twenty fucking questions, Ash. It’s a request. I need you to come to the benefit and bring a date. Someone our age. You know what he likes.”
Nausea slides up my throat. Declan’s father, Marshall Astor, has always given me the creeps. It’s no secret that he cheats on his wife with younger women, but is Declan insinuating that he helps find women for his dad?
“What the fuck, Declan?”
He rolls his eyes, clearly bored with this conversation. “Not like that. He flirts with my dates. He thinks it gives him the upper hand. It’s not like he fucks them or anything.”
“So, let me get this straight. You want me to find a woman for your father to flirt with so he can feel powerful because you’re sick of doing it?”
“Something like that.”
“That’s really weird, man.”
Declan softens. It’s a rare moment when I see any kind of vulnerability from him. Not since he was a kid. Growing up with a father like Marshall, he didn’t have it easy, but he refuses to show what he thinks is weakness.
“Look, man,” he says. “My dad’s on my ass again about getting my shit together. He expects me to have a date, and if he realizes I don’t, he’s gonna flip.” He scrubs his face with his hands. “I just need a night off, okay?”
I look him in the eye. He may be manipulating the shit out of me. You can never tell with him. I nod my head anyway. As messed up as he is, Declan is my best friend, and I know if it came down to it, he’d have my back no matter what.
“Fine,” I relent. “You owe me one.”
“Anything you want.”
I turn to my laptop and expect him to get up and leave, but he settles deeper into the chair, throwing his leg down and scooting his hips up. “So tell me about that juicy-as-fuck—”
A knock on the side of the door frame interrupts him.
I look up to see Allie standing there, her fierce aquamarine eyes pinned on the scene in front of her.
They move around the room, assessing any possible threats.
That’s new, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s a result of what happened with Craig.
“I had a question.” Her gaze lands on Declan, and she takes in his appearance. “Never mind. It can wait.”
“No, come in. Declan was just leaving.”
I give him a look that I hope conveys just how much I want him to get the fuck out of my office.
“Sure was,” he says in that weird, fake cheery voice he sometimes uses. He slams his palms down on the arms of the chair. “Thanks again, man. Seriously, anything you want.”
Then he stands up, brushing past Allie as he heads out. “Allie.” He nods. “Pleasure to see you again.”
“Wish I could say the same,” she says flatly.
He chuckles and makes a point of checking out her ass as he walks behind her so that only I can see. I forgot that when you tell Declan Astor not to do something, he will not only do it, but he’ll make you watch.
I take a deep breath, attempting to calm my irritation.
“So what’s up?” I ask her. It feels weird speaking so casually after everything that has happened.
She looks distracted, like she’s in her head.
I follow her eyes to the corner of my desk.
The little pieces of glass she took out of my hand are still sitting in a neat pile where I pushed them off to the side last night.
I told the cleaning crew not to do my office when I called them to warn them about all the glass up front.
I didn’t need anyone coming in here with the scent of sex still permeating the air.
I took out my trash this morning, but I completely forgot about the glass on my desk.
“Allie,” I say softly.
Her eyes snap to me. “Oh yeah, I just wanted to ask if you want the vendor paperwork filed alphabetically or by date.” I quirk a brow. That’s a lie if I ever heard one.
“You know, because you’re so particular,” she goes on. “I wouldn’t want to waste my time only to have to redo it later.”
Did she—Yeah, she definitely just pulled something out of her ass so she would have an excuse to come talk to me.
“Either way is fine,” I grin.
“Great,” she says a little louder than I was expecting. “That’s great. I’ll just—” She backs up and hits the wall. “Go,” she whispers. Is she flustered?
“Wait.” She spins back around so fast, I think for a second she’s going to trip on her heels, but she rights herself, only swaying slightly.
“What are you doing Friday night?”
Her lips thin and that Allie scowl I love so much makes a home on her face. “This is not a thing, Rich Boy.”
There she is.
“Oh no? How many times, then?”
“How many times?” Her hands come to rest on her hips.
“How many times do I need to make you come before this is considered a thing? Just curious.”
She scoffs, attempting to look outraged by my question, but I see the corners of her mouth tip up ever so slightly. She’s trying to keep from smiling. “I think you’re mistaken, Ashton. Did you already forget the way you begged me last night?”
“Oh, trust me. That’s burned into my memory for the rest of time.”
She licks her lips, catching the bottom one in her teeth and sliding it forward. “Good.”
“But make no mistake, Chaos. Just because I let you have control last night, doesn’t mean it’s going to happen every time.” I liked submitting to her…a lot. But I also like the idea of switching it up. Dominating the woman who likes to dominate.
“Let me?”
“Anyway,” I continue, ignoring her question.
“Now that we got that out of the way and established that this is, in fact, a thing, I can ask what I was going to ask in the first place. Our first rec league softball game is on Friday and we’re down a player since Theo is still on physical activity restriction. What size shirt are you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Which part do you need me to repeat?”
She blinks up at me, her eyes swimming. “What rec league?”
“The local Emberfield small business recreational softball league.” It’s a mouthful, which is why I usually just call it the “rec league.” I had completely forgotten about it until I got a text from my buddy, Wes, this morning.
He’s a DJ at our local radio station. It’s a tradition that the first game of the season is between The Emberfield Lantern and KEMB.
It technically doesn’t count toward the official season, which starts at the end of March.
It’s more like a warm-up game, but it’s competitive nonetheless.
I’ve been playing in the league for years now.
Theo begged me to help them out when I first came back home after college.
There’s not much I wouldn’t do for that man, so I agreed, even though I didn’t work for the paper.
“Thanks, but no thanks.” Allie interrupts my thoughts. “I don’t play well with others.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“I’m not—”
“What’s your shirt size?” I ask again. “I’ll have Skylar find you one. We won’t have time to get it personalized with your name, but at least you will look like part of the team.”
Allie looks around the room like she’s trying to figure out where the hidden camera is. “I don’t think you’re hearing me.”
“Look, we really need the help, and Emory told me you used to play softball in high school. We need a pitcher…”
Allie pretends to think for a minute, her black polished nails tapping on the side of her skirt. “Hmm…still no.” She turns to leave.
“What if I gave you an incentive?” I call out to her retreating back. She stops in her tracks, and I take the opportunity to stand up and walk up behind her. “If you play with us and we win,” I whisper, bringing my mouth to her ear. “You get to come.”
A shudder racks through her body, tiny goosebumps forming along her pale skin.
“G-get to?”
“Yes. It would be a shame to let a perfectly good orgasm go to waste, but if you’re not there, I won’t have anyone to celebrate our win with.”
“Celebrate?” She doesn’t stutter this time, but her voice is low.
“Are you going to keep repeating my words, or are you going to give me an answer?”
She snaps out of the trance and rolls her eyes. “Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she says ominously.
“Consider me warned,” I reply as her heels clack toward the open door. And because I’m no better than Declan, and also very likely a masochist, I look down as her juicy ass disappears down the hallway.