Chapter 20 #2
“What the fuck has that got to do with anything?” I asked, my voice sounding high-pitched in disbelief.
“I like you, Ash, a lot, and if you like me, then there’s no reason why we can’t give this a go, that is unless you don’t like me, and you’re just coming up with bullshit excuses as to why we can’t be together.
And if that’s the case, well then, that’s fine.
I’ll help you out anyway because I like you.
Just say the word and I’ll back the fuck off and leave you to get yourself well, then I’ll help you find a new place to stay. ”
Please don’t say the word. Please, please don’t.
“I’m not a charity case. I’m not a little project for you and your family to work on.”
What?
“What the fuck has my family got to do with this?”
“Well, there’s you feeding me bullshit so you can get into my knickers.
There’s Georgia being my mate, just because she doesn’t have too many to choose from, and there’s your mum, giving me a job and treating me like the rain in Spain bird, out of the Doctor Doolittle film, trying to make me talk and dress all proper. ”
That’s what she thinks of us?
I watched in silence as she wiped her nose on the back of her hand. That was why I didn’t do relationships. That was why I didn’t do that caring bollocks. It just made your chest hurt.
It took me a few seconds to calm the emotions bubbling inside of me, trying to think of what to say. She could bitch about me all she wanted, but bringing my family into it, I was gonna get pissed off.
“Well, I’m glad you’ve clued me up on how you really feel.
I won’t waste any more of your time, but just so you know, the only thing I was planning on feeding you today was the Shepherd’s pie I’ve spent the last two hours making us for dinner.
Georgia is just choosey about who she lets into her life, and you should feel fucking honoured that my sister has let you in and given you the title of friend.
As for my mum … from what I hear, my mum gave you that job because apparently you’re an excellent sales woman.
She gives you an allowance to spend on clothes because it’s a perk of the job, and good advertising for the shop.
And as for the bird from the film? You’re even wrong on that score, sweetheart.
Her names Eliza Doolittle, and the play’s called Pygmalion, the film is My Fair Lady.
Doctor Doolittle has got fuck all to do with it. Even I know that much.”
We stared at each other for a few seconds before Ash started to climb out of bed. “I’m off. I don’t need this bullshit, and I don’t need to be lectured by you.” She headed into my wardrobe and started pulling her clothes off the hangers.
“Where the fuck are you gonna go?” I snapped. I shouldn’t have used that tone, implying that I was her only option. I knew it as soon as I said it.
She spun around and stared at me with an armful of her designer dresses, held against her chest. “You think I don’t have places to go? People that I can stay with? People that care and don’t just see me as a charity case?”
Whoa, that fucking hurt.
“When the fuck have I ever made you feel like a charity case?” I asked, astounded.
“Oh, I dunno.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Only since I met you, and especially since you turned up to my flat, uninvited.”
She tilted her chin in that way that she did, and my heart rate increased. Why? I didn’t have an answer to that.
She moved to try and put her hands on her hips, but they were still filled with her clothes.
She didn’t even have a suitcase to put them in.
Pretty much everything she owned was what she held in her arms. I couldn’t imagine how that must’ve made her feel, but I didn’t want it to be inadequate, unworthy, or beneath me, or anyone else.
She was a better person than I could ever hope to be. I just needed her to understand that.
“I came to your flat because I was worried about you. I had no fucking clue you were living in those conditions. Does my sister know? My mum?” That probably wasn’t the best way to go about making her feel better about herself.
Go me.
Her nostrils flared, just before she threw her clothes at me. “Where I live has fuck all to do with your family, and fuck all to do with you or anyone else.”
Okay, perhaps I didn’t care how she felt. As she screamed at me, she picked up the pile of clothes a few more times and repeatedly threw them at me before collapsing on top of them in a coughing fit.
I watched her for a few seconds, trying to decide whether I wanted to get her some water, or smack her arse for behaving like such a bitch. This type of behaviour was what I’d expect from George, but I’d never had thought Ash capable of it.
I turned and got a bottle of water off the night stand and threw it so it landed in her lap.
“Thank you,” she said through her sniffs and her tears.
“You’re welcome.”
I stood and watched her as she sat on her pile of clothes, crying quietly.
My fists clenched and unclenched. I wanted to sit on the floor with her and pull her into my lap.
I wanted to kiss her fucking senseless and make everything right in her world, but I shouldn’t want to feel any of those things.
What she said about my family was nasty and spiteful, and I shouldn’t want anything to do with her.
She finally looked up at me. “I’m sorry.” She got out before her face crumbled and she pulled that full on ugly face you do when you cry hard.
I was done.
Within a split second, I was on the floor with her, holding her in my lap and stroking her back, kissing the top of her head.
“I’m so sorry, Marley. I really don’t think that. I don’t think any of those things. I love your sister and your mum … sh-she…” She let out a few sobs before continuing, “She’s the only one I’ve got.”
I pulled her into me and held her tight.
“I ain’t got no one, Marley. No people that care, and I’ve got nowhere to go. My life’s a fucking mess.” She started to cough. I lifted her up and carried her back to bed. I sat with my back to the headboard and kept a hold of her in my lap.
“Ash, just so you know, whatever happens between us, you’ll always have me. And don’t say that you’ve got no one coz you have my mum, George, and Jimmie. They all care.”
She looked up at me through teary eyes, blinked a couple of times and opened her mouth to speak.
“If you ask me again why I’m doing this, I’ll fucking strangle you,” I told her.
She smiled, despite the tears clinging to her lashes, then started to cry again.
I held on to her until eventually, we both fell asleep.
We ate reheated Shepherd’s pie later that evening, and on Sunday, we cooked a roast dinner together.
She fell asleep later on the sofa with her head in my lap. I ran my fingers through her hair as I stared down at her.
Ever since we met, I’ve felt like my heart had beat too fast, too hard, and too erratic. My stomach felt like it had been tied in knots and my head—my head was all over the show. I thought one thing, then did or said another.
I’m not entirely sure how I felt about any of it. Terrified, mostly. The fact that I had no control over what I was feeling scared the crap outta me, and it was that fear that ultimately lead me to fuck everything up and make yet another one of the biggest mistakes of my life.
I turned the telly off by the remote control and carried Ashley to bed. As I laid her down, she pulled me towards her.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“The other room.”
“Don’t go. Stay, please?” She sat up and put the lamp on at the side of the bed. “I’d really like you to stay, Marls.” My belly flipped at the abbreviation of my name. I wasn’t sure if I’d heard her use it before, and I liked it, almost as much as Rock Star, in fact.
We’d both been a bit quiet since our little fallout yesterday, but she’d barely left my side and had been very touchy feely when she’d been near.
I had no idea what it meant. I was hoping that she was finally ‘getting’ that I liked her for her.
I’d held back, sorta, on all the flirty stuff that came so naturel to me and just tried to keep things on a sorta platonic level.
“Ash, if I stay … I can’t. I’m not sure that…” For fuck’s sake, Layton, just tell her if you stay, you’ll likely bang her brains out.
“Rock Star, do I have to spell it out for you? I want you to stay. I know what that means, and I want you to stay.”
My mouth went dry, to the point where my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth and my lips to my teeth.
She climbed out of bed and headed towards the bathroom. I grabbed her hand as she passed me. “Where you going?”
“I want a quick shower and to clean my teeth. My breath smells like Brussel sprouts.”
“I like Brussel sprouts.” It was possibly the most pathetic thing I’d ever said in my life, like, ever.
“Yeah, on your dinner, maybe, but do you really wanna snog one?”
I didn’t answer her question, mainly because I’d say something that would make me sound like even more of a pussy, or a complete twat, so I let go of her hand and let her carry on into the bathroom. I went and collected my toothbrush and then came back, unsure of what to do next.
Me, unsure? That was a fucking joke, but that was what she did to me.
I took off my clothes and stepped into the shower with her.
She had her back to me, face tilted upwards, letting the water bounce off her chin and down her chest. Her hair was piled up in one of those sexy birds nest things.
I leaned in and kissed the curve of her neck and slid my arms around her from behind.
She stilled for a split second, and then pressed her back into my front.
“You are so fucking gorgeous,” I told her.
We had the showers designed with a built-in sound system and ‘Mystify’ by INXS was playing.
Leaving one hand on her belly, I slid the other up and cupped one of her tits. It fit my hand perfectly. Squeezing her nipple, I dragged my teeth up her neck and over her ear.