Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
ACE
Fuck me! As if this isn’t awkward enough…I haven’t seen or spoken to Ainsley in three months. She never responded to my texts, and I never pushed her. We both knew that morning Morgan walked in on us on the couch was the end of something that barely started. I did the right thing letting her go.
The car ride was shit. I could tell in the few glances I chanced her way that she was disappointed by my coldness. I couldn’t help it. What was I supposed to say? “Good to see you; it’s so great you decided to get into a relationship with the jackass I warned you to stay away from. The fact that it was so easy for you to forget me for the second time, to be with someone else, makes me happy.” No! That’s not fucking happening, so the next best thing was to ignore her.
Three months of knowing she was with that prick has been agonizing. I know we were in an impossible situation, but she could have moved on with someone new. The girl of my dreams didn’t have to be with the one guy I told her to stay away from. I couldn’t care less if her brother is cool with it or not. To be honest though, I’m not sure he would have said that if his head wasn’t shoved so far up Cassie’s ass.
So now, instead of chilling at home to catch up on sleep, I'm stuck having dinner with the one person I planned to avoid. It’s not like I can back out of it, not when my dad laid the guilt trip on thick.
Just get it over with, and avoid eye contact with her.
Entering the Copelands’ house used to feel like walking into my own, but now it’s laced with memories of her. In a perfect world, Ainsley and I would be together, coming home for the holidays as a couple. Unfortunately, that's not my reality. It's much more bleak.
We all gather at the table for dinner. Our parents won’t stop talking and asking us questions about school. I’m in no mood to join the conversation; I want to quickly eat, then leave. I don't miss the concerned looks everyone throws my way, I just avoid them, keeping my eyes focused on my plate. Once dinner is done, I couldn't be more eager to get out of this house and away from her.
“Hey bro, want to chill and play Call of Duty?” Morgan asks.
“Not tonight. I’m going to head out.”
“Dude, I thought we'd stay up to play. We haven’t been able to game since summer,” Morgan sounds disappointed. We rarely hang out unless it's during class or work. Other than that, he goes off and does whatever, and I stay home. I’ve avoided the club, unless Denny requests a meeting, and even then I dip as soon as we’re done. I’m still not in the mood to be there, despite knowing Ainsley has moved on with someone else. But I’m also not trying to be at the club when Morgan and Cassie are there—that would be awkward as hell.
“Sorry man, I’m spent. We can play tomorrow. Why don’t you come to my house in the morning?” He nods, grabbing for me in a side bro-hug. I’m not tired, and will probably be up all night gaming or working, whichever one calls to me. His company isn't the problem. I know he'd want to stay here, and I wouldn’t be able to come up with a good enough reason to say no.
I’m out the front door and almost to my driveway when someone grabs my forearm, stopping me. “What the fu—” I halt my words when I see a set of hazel eyes staring at me. Ainsley is nervously fidgeting. She obviously didn’t have a plan for after getting my attention.
“What’s up?” I ask coldly.
“Can we talk? It’s been so long since we have, and I want to see how you’re doing.” She looks down at her boots, shifting from side to side. She wants to talk now? What about three months ago? She should have reached out then, not wait until we're stuck in a forced-proximity situation.
“What would you like to talk about, princess?” I’m being an asshole. I can’t help it. What did she expect? The two of us barely got back on good terms before she was out of my life again. A shiver runs down her body at the nickname. Then her shoulders square up, building that typical Ainsley defense wall.
“I don’t know, Ace. Maybe we should talk about why we haven’t spoken in three months. Was I that easy to forget?” Her attitude is at a ten. I love that she gives a fuck what I’ve been doing for the last few months. Still, I’m not sure how to go about this. A part of me wants to walk away, a part of me wants to spank her ass for her bratty attitude, but the biggest part of me wants to grab her and crush my lips to hers. Obviously, the latter two aren’t viable options, so I go with the first.
“Do not walk away from me!” she shouts in anger, loud enough that everyone inside might hear.
“Fuck princess, you think you can yell any louder? I don't think the next town heard you.” She slants me an aggravated look.
“Stop acting like this. Like you’re some asshole that doesn’t give a shit about me. We were starting to be close again.” The innocence in her voice would be cute, if I wasn’t so perturbed by her ignorance.
“What did you expect, Ainsley? I don’t recall any texts or phone calls from you, either.”
“I know. I’m being a hypocrite. I’m sorry, I just…I don’t know, wished you did reach out.” Her shoulders slump.
“Is Morgan still your brother?” I ask plainly.
“Yes,” she answers meekly.
“Are you still with that asshole, Jackson?” Another blunt question.
“Yes.” She sounds more defeated than ever.
“Then I don’t know what the fuck you want from me. I can’t be your friend after that night—it fucked with my head. Maybe I could have, if you chose to stay away from him like I told you to, but you didn’t. I can’t be in your life and watch you make mistake after mistake with him.” I’m surprised I’m able to keep my voice down, laying it all out for her.
The tears start to well in her gorgeous eyes. I would give anything to take them away, but I have to set boundaries, even if they hurt her.
She rapid-fire blinks her tears away, and composes herself. “I understand. Honestly, I wish we could be friends. The last three months have felt like last summer all over again. Missing you, and knowing there's nothing I could do about it.” Her voice cracks as her lip trembles. She's trying her best to not cry in front of me.
“I’m sure you've been fine with your current bed companion.” A harsher, angrier edge seeps into my voice. That probably wasn’t the right thing to say. Her face flushes red-hot with anger.
“My bed companion is none of your—” I cut her off, knowing what she is going to say.
“Have you fucked him?” I’m not sure why I asked it. I guess I’m just a masochist for this girl. The red hue of her cheeks darkens.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She flips her hair in my face as she storms off, and I let her. This conversation was going nowhere. The last thing we need is for anyone inside to overhear.
She didn’t say yes or no. Her answer should have been no—she’s too good to give it up for that prick. But I’m no idiot. She's eighteen with a boyfriend, it was bound to happen. Thinking about his hands all over her floods my body with rage.
I need to erase the memory of her soft plump lips on mine as she bit into my bottom lip with need. The feel of her warm cunt slicking my dick with her arousal as she slid on it effortlessly…Life is messy at the moment. I think the only way to move on from Ainsley Copeland is to fuck someone else.