Chapter 9
Nine
Nova
Why won’t Ashton leave me the hell alone? It’s not bad enough Dante forced him yesterday to be my damn bodyguard, but I just can’t deal with him today.
My mind is on my father, but sitting around a hospital room all day, what good would that do?
Harper is still in trouble, and I can’t believe Dante didn’t send an actual team to help bring her back. He sent the fucking recruits instead of the cavalry.
Does he want Harper to stay missing?
Maybe he wants her dead.
Wouldn’t surprise me. The bastard never liked her anyhow.
Ashton reaches across the aisle, our seats facing each other, and while I do my best to look anywhere but at him, his eyes are locked on me.
“Are you going to ignore me forever?” Ashton asks, his hands folded together in his lap.
Sophia unbuckles her seatbelt.
“Where are you going?” My voice raises an octave when I see her stand.
Liam’s sister gives me an apologetic look before taking my seat next to Rhys.
“Wow,” I mutter, shocked that she’s siding with Ashton.
He doesn’t even miss a beat, switching seats from across from me, moving right into Sophia’s seat, sitting next to me.
“Happy?” I retort, seeing that he got exactly what he wanted.
“Am I happy that we’re broken up and you can barely look at me, let alone talk to me? No.” He doesn’t reach for me, doesn’t so much as touch me, but he does sit close enough that I can feel his presence like a raging heat that makes me sweat.
“What do you want?” I finally shift my body to face him. “We’re not getting back together.”
“Wasn’t asking, sweetheart.”
I snarl at his nickname. “Don’t sweetheart me. I’m not your anything.” My words are intended to cut him, but he doesn’t so much as flinch.
“Well, not yet,” he says and smiles with that boyish grin that used to make me weak at the knees. It probably landed all those other girls in his bed, too.
I force away all feelings and fold my arms across my chest. “What do you want to talk about? Other than us.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Us?”
“I’m not talking about us,” I reiterate.
“You’re the one who brought it up.” Ashton is all smiles, that dimple making its world-class debut, and I want to wipe it right off his face. He’s fucking playing with me and enjoying every second.
My eyes tighten and I inhale sharply. “Well, fuck. Why don’t we talk about you? If you want to talk, that is.” I can’t help the anger in my voice or the annoyance that he’s paying attention to me when he should be worried about Harper or even my father, Moreno.
Ashton seems to relax with that topic in mind. “I’m an open book.” He stretches his arms, casually putting one behind my headrest, and I pry his arm away and back to his side.
“You’re an ass.”
He doesn’t appear to be bothered by my insult. “Yell at me all you want, Nova. I know you’re hurting.”
“You hurt me!” How does he not see that he’s the reason I’m angry with him? Does he think it’s because my best friend was kidnapped and my father was shot and is in a coma? Ashton and I were fighting long before Harper was taken.
He’s quiet, and for once, I don’t have any idea what he’s thinking.
I glance away, staring out the window, my eyes burning, threatening me with tears that I refuse to shed in front of him. The last thing I want is for Ashton to see me cry. I bite down on my bottom lip, hoping the pain will stop the emotional torture.
His hand is warm, gentle, soft as he grazes my arm to get my attention.
I should shuck him off me, but I don’t. Just like last night, having him in my bed was comforting. My eyes shut, avoiding so much as looking at him as I face the open window shade of the jet, and I know if we were seated anywhere else, he’d be pulling me onto his lap, cradling me.
I’m grateful for the individual leather seat, keeping him from scooting over next to me, forcing our bodies to touch.
I keep my back to him. One hand is on my arm, the other tangles in the nape of my neck, massaging my scalp, tugging my hair slightly, and fuck, his touch is a turn-on. The way his hands command my body, making my insides warm and tingly.
I hate him for it.
I want to scream at him to get off of me, but the words don’t come.
Anger sizzles in silence to nothingness.
His hand keeps kneading my neck, fisting my hair, tugging in a sensual maneuver that sends my pussy pulsating.
My breathing deepens and grows raspier. I pray he doesn’t notice the change, the intensity from anger to arousal.
I feel his presence, the heat of his body as he leans forward, his breath against my ear. “Want to join the mile-high club?”
For a fraction of a second, a tiny smile reaches my lips because, yes, I really do. But I shove it down and spin around, pushing him backward out of my personal space, including my seat. “In your dreams.”
Ashton smirks, and I want so desperately to reach across and wipe that smug grin off his face. “You’re always in my dreams, babe.”
I pull back my fist to land a blow for calling me babe when we’re broken up, and he grabs my wrist, stopping me. “When did you become so violent?” He’s taunting me. “For someone who wants nothing to do with the mafia, you seem quite—invested.”
“Because my father is dying and my best friend is missing!”
I wince when I feel multiple sets of eyes on me. Those who aren’t glancing back at me are definitely listening. It’s not like I’ve been quiet this flight.
I grumble under my breath, unbuckle my seatbelt and stalk to the restroom at the back of the airplane.
It’s the only place I can get a little peace and quiet without Ashton interfering.
Correction.
Someone is knocking on the door to the bathroom.
“Seriously?” Can’t he take a hint and leave me the hell alone?
“It’s Rhys.” There’s another knock. “You okay, or do you want me to knock some sense into him?”
I slowly open the bathroom door, offering a weak smile. “I’m okay.” I’m not sure I’m convincing him, and I definitely am not convincing myself I’m fine. I’m a mess! I meet his gaze for a fraction of a second before I gesture for him to step aside because he’s blocking the aisle.
“You know, Dante hired me to protect you. That includes from college-aged boys and ex-boyfriends.”
I chuckle under my breath. “I really doubt that’s why Dante brought you back.”
“He wants me as your full-time bodyguard,” Rhys says, and I nod slowly. I always liked Rhys. Not in a romantic, love interest type of way, more like he let me sneak off and get away with practically anything. And as far as I know, he never told Dad the shit I got into.
“Yeah, full-time until Harper is home.” I’m not entirely surprised, a little that Rhys is back, but Dante and Dad have always trusted him with their lives and with mine.
Rhys gives me that if you say so stare, and I can’t help but cock my head. “Do you know something you’re not telling me?”
He laughs under his breath. “I know a lot of things, none of which are leaving this mouth.” He points at his lips. “Besides, I heard you have no interest in joining the family business. Surprised Dante even let you on this flight.”
“Do you think I gave him a choice?” I don’t remember getting an invite. I heard Luca and Ashton were jetting to Vegas, and I joined them.
Rhys chuckles and steps aside, letting me pass him to head back to my seat. I glance at the empty leather chair beside Ashton, and while I consider stealing Rhys’s seat, I instead opt to sit by Ashton.
My bodyguard whispers to me as he walks back to his seat, “Your funeral.”
Rhy appears surprised I chose to sit beside Ashton.
We have history, and deep down, as much as I’m angry with Ashton for wanting this life, I still have feelings for him.
Dare I admit, I’m still in love with him.