Chapter 14
Finn
A sh is fucking wasted. He reeks of beer and tequila, his eyes are glossy and bloodshot, and as he walks past me into the house, he stumbles, his shoulder pressing into my bare chest. I hate the way it sends goosebumps all over my body.
Chuckling, his eyes come up to meet mine. “Oops. Sorry, daddy.” He pats the spot on my chest he just shoulder-checked before giggling some more and walking farther into the house.
I bite down on my molars, nostrils flaring on an exhale as I try to not react to that fucking word. Rubbing the heel of my palm against my eye, I shut and lock the front door. “Where are you goin’?” I ask when I notice he didn’t turn down the hall that leads to the bedrooms.
“Thirsty,” he calls out.
“I think you’ve had enough to drink.”
“Nonsense!”
Sighing, I catch up with him, nudging him on the arm before gesturing to the chair at the counter. “Sit.”
Instead of sitting in the chair, he hops up onto the counter, a dopey smile on his face as he watches me. “You gonna feed me?” he asks, his words slurring.
“Are you hungry?”
Like gasoline on a flame, I’m burning up as he runs his gaze down the length of my body before coming back up. He nods. “Yes.”
I swallow thickly, reaching into the cabinet to grab a glass, and fill it up with water from the sink. Sliding it across the counter to Ash, I say, “Drink.”
He hums. “Yes, daddy.”
“Stop that,” I growl, opening the fridge and scanning what’s inside.
“Why? I think you like it.”
“I do not.” Lie.
After I grab the sliced ham and cheese out of the fridge, I walk over to the pantry and pull out the bread. Turning the stove on, I pull out the skillet, dropping a dollop of butter in there and letting it heat up as I put together what will be a grilled ham and cheese. My eyes flicker to the clock on the stove, and I shake my head, knowing I’m going to be dead tired come morning. It’s already after eleven.
“What’d you do tonight?” I ask him, my back to him as I set the buttered bread down on the now hot skillet. “Aside from gettin’ shit-faced.”
Ash chuckles. “I did not get shit-faced.”
“Tell that to the slur in your words.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and when I glance over my shoulder, he’s chugging the water. Our eyes meet, and a ripple of…something races down my spine. “I went to the bar with Tripp,” he murmurs.
“He get drunk too?”
“Mmhmm.”
“How’d you get home?” I ask, unable to hide the irritation lancing through me. They fucking better not have driven home like this.
“August picked us up.” He hiccups, then laughs about it. “Anybody ever tell you that your ass looks real nice in those?”
My heart pounds powerfully as I bite down on my molars. He’s drunk, I think to myself. He doesn’t mean it.
I don’t respond.
“Tripp and your cousin are cute together,” he continues. “They seem really happy.”
“Yeah, they do.”
“Does your brother have a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t fuckin’ know. Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
“Okay.” He chuckles.
Remembering how Hollis said he thought Ash was hot, I grit my teeth as I plate up the grilled cheese. “You know what? Actually, don’t do that.”
Setting the sandwich in front of him, he looks from it to me, cocking his head to the side, his brows knit together in a way I can’t help but find adorable.
Since fucking when do I find anything a man does adorable?
“Why?”
I cross my arms over my chest, resting my backside against the counter as I watch him. “Because I said so.”
Ash snorts, then grabs one half of the sandwich. “Daddy’s bossy,” he mumbles before taking a huge bite off the corner. “Ow, it’s hot.”
“No shit, it’s hot.” I chuckle, rolling my eyes. “Blow on it.”
“You want me to blow on it, daddy?”
Walked myself right into that one, didn’t I? “Knock it off, and just eat.”
His eyes never leave mine as he blows on the grilled cheese in his hand before opening his mouth and taking an even bigger bite than before. He groans as he chews, the sound causing a bolt of electricity to race through me. I don’t understand the reaction my body seems to always have with Ash. It makes no sense, but as I watch him scarf down the grilled cheese, I feel that something again. What exactly it is that I’m feeling is still unknown—amusement, intrigue, curiosity. I don’t know, but it’s there. There’s some sort of tension or chemistry fizzling between us, despite my efforts to ignore it.
It’s fucking confusing.
Not to mention, I find myself enjoying his company more often lately, which is another thing I don’t understand.
Not a word is said while he eats, the kitchen so quiet you could hear a damn pin drop, but neither one of us seems to be able to look away from each other. It’s tense and overwhelming, my heart beating a rapid staccato and my mouth dry. Once Ash finishes, I take the plate and rinse it before placing it in the dishwasher. Refilling his water, I grab the bottle of ibuprofen out of the counter. “Come on,” I say. “Let’s get you to bed.”
Ash waggles his brows at me before sliding off the counter. About halfway down the hall, he rips his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the ground as we enter his room, before shoving his pants down before I even have a chance to register what’s going on. He’s wearing underwear—thank god—but still.
“Where are your sheets?” I ask him as I flip on the light switch.
“Oh, fuck.” His arms hang by his sides as he turns to face me with a frown. “They’re in the dryer.”
Pressing my lips together, I breathe through my nose as I walk over and set the water and ibuprofen on the bedside table. “I’ll be right back.”
When I come back into the room with his freshly cleaned sheets in my arms, Ash is nowhere to be found. Stepping into the hall again, I notice the light is on in the bathroom. I make quick work of making his bed, and by the time he comes back in, it’s finished.
“Thank you,” he mumbles, dropping down onto the bed, nestling his hands under his head on top of the pillow. I can tell he’s tired by the way he can hardly keep his eyes open. “Had to wash these after I jizzed all over them this morning.”
“Excuse me?” My stomach flips. There’s no way I heard him right.
He snorts. “I mean, can you blame me?” His hooded, glossy gaze shamelessly drags up and down my body before he adds, “Look at you.”
My jaw hangs open as my heart ricochets against my ribs while I stand in the middle of Ash’s room, dumbfounded. It’s not but a few moments later that I hear the sound of him snoring. He’s out. Probably won’t even remember this conversation in the morning…but I sure as hell will.
Taking a step toward the bed, I cover him with the comforter before walking over to the door. Before I turn the light off, I rest my shoulder against the frame and cross my arms over my chest, watching him sleep for a minute. Long and dark eyelashes rest on his cheeks. His full lips are parted as he breathes through his mouth. He looks so peaceful.
I end up standing here watching him for way longer than I should, until I eventually swallow around the lump in my throat and flick off the light, heading to my own room. Climbing onto my bed, I lie on my side, letting my mind wander where it shouldn’t go. Wondering what it would be like to fall asleep next to Ash. Wondering if he’s a cuddler when he sleeps, or if he’d stay on his own side.
Would I like him to be a cuddler? Would I enjoy having him cling to me like a koala?
I blame my tiredness for where my mind goes next. I can’t help but then think back on the very few times I’ve fallen asleep in Violet’s bed. How much I hated having her draped over me as we slept. How difficult it made it to actually get any sleep. Aside from Tucker, I typically don’t like to cuddle. I don’t really like to be touched…but I can’t deny there’s some unknown part of myself that wants to know what it would be like with Ash.
Why is that?
What is it about him that has my mind all out of sorts?
And more importantly, how the hell can I get rid of the thoughts?