CHAPTER 14
ROBBIE
Waking up in Ashton’s apartment, in his arms, was-a revelation. The way the early morning sunlight caught the waves in his hair, how it danced on his skin. The way his eyelashes fluttered while he dozed.
He was beautiful.
Stunning.
Breath-taking, like looking at a stained-glass window crafted by a master artist.
Waking up in cum-dried underwear giving me the mother of all wedgies was less fun.
That and Ashton was a blanket-hog. Somehow, he had wrapped the quilt around half of his body as if he were a burrito and was making soft snuffling noises.
I wasn’t sure if he was more adorable or sexy.
Maybe a little of both. I didn’t need to figure that out right now.
Much like I didn’t need to unpack just how much I enjoyed everything that happened last night. Ashton was so easy to talk to. Spending time with him was easy, addictive in a way I’d not expected.
Like my losing track of time.
Last night was the first time I’d been so into a date that I wasn’t checking my watch or stressing about my life. Or worried about missing my train. Knowing myself, I was going to have to deep-dive into that fact at some point. Just not right now, here while Ash was nuzzling into my neck.
Ash?
Would Ashton let me call him that?
A little bubble of hope sprang up that one day we could be at the stage where we could be ‘Rob and Ash’. That was another thing to add to the ‘needs more thought’ bucket.
Was I indulging in wishful thinking?
Yep.
Did I want to stop and return to reality?
Haha, no, not quite yet. I wanted to lie here, watch this beautiful man sleep, and just let my imagination roam free.
I’d been struggling to find words to finish my novel; nothing that I wrote seemed good enough. Now I was all kinds of inspired. With Ashton as my muse. My head was filled with ideas, plots, characters, and fantastical places. All just begging to be put down on paper.
The urge to write notes, capturing those plot bunnies, was warring with the need to pee. Tugging at the quilt, I wiggled to the side, falling sideways onto the floor.
We were too distracted last night, so I couldn’t get a tour. I had to find the bathroom the hard way.
Going door to door.
The first door I tried was not the bathroom.
But I recognised it.
The sofa, the bed, the arrangement of the lighting... yeah, I recognised this room.
Even though I knew what Ashton did for a living, it didn’t dawn on me he worked from home. Although, when I think about it, where else would he do his livestreams?
Not that it mattered.
Ashton was so much more than just a pretty face and phenomenal abs. Anyone who’d taken the time to talk with him would recognise that.
In a way, I was in awe of him putting himself out there; if he hadn’t, then he wouldn’t have connected with my dad, and we would have never met.
Closing the door, I moved onto the next, grateful to be right. After relieving myself, I headed back to a now-standing Ashton, who was tugging his t-shirt over his head.
I stopped in my tracks admiring the view of his abs until they were gone
Great, now I need to adjust myself.
Ashton’s smirk at my discomfort was playfully annoying. Bending, he plucked my shirt up from the floor and tossed it to me. Tugging it on, I followed him into the kitchen and watched as he pulled two mugs out of a cupboard.
“I’m guessing you’re more of a breakfast tea man rather than a coffee?”
I guess snuggle time was over and we were doing the slightly awkward morning-after thing instead.
To be honest, it wasn’t as awkward standing here in last night’s clothes talking about tea rather than addressing the other elephant in the room.
He poured hot water into the mugs, the steam momentarily obscuring his features, and added a tea bag to each.
The clink of the spoon as he stirred was a gentle contrast to the quiet hum of the fridge.
I leaned against the counter, the lingering warmth of his body soothing me while I considered my next move.
“Definitely tea,” I confirmed, a small smile playing on my lips. “Strong, if possible.”
“Just the way I like it, so...are you okay? Just checking that you’re not freaked out about last night.”
Ashton added a dash of milk and pushed the mug towards me. Taking a sip, I leant up against the countertop and pondered the question.
I took another sip of tea, letting it do its magic. Ashton watched me over the rim of his mug, trying to look casual but failing miserably. His shoulders were too tense; his eyes were too bright with worry.
“I’m okay,” I said finally. “More than okay, actually. Last night was...good. Really good.”
Ashton’s exhale was almost a laugh, almost a sigh. “Good. I just—” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly shy. “I didn’t want you waking up and regretting it.”
“Regretting you?” I shook my head. “Not a chance.”
His eyes flicked up, searching my face as if he didn’t quite trust what he’d heard. “You’d be surprised how many people do.”
That hit me harder than I expected. “Ashton...”
He shrugged, trying for nonchalance but not quite pulling it off. “It’s fine. Comes with the job, I guess. People see what they want to see. Or they see the...performance. Not me.”
I set my mug down and stepped closer, close enough that our arms brushed. “I saw you last night.”
He swallowed. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. And I liked what I saw.”
A slow, cautious smile tugged at his lips — the kind that looked like it hadn’t been used in a while. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”
“Me?” I laughed. “I’m the least dangerous person I know.”
“Exactly.” He nudged my hip with his. “You’re honest. And kind. And you look at me like I’m...something more than a pretty distraction.”
“You are more.”
His breath hitched — just a little, but enough that I felt it.
He leaned back against the counter, fingers tapping nervously against his mug. “I don’t want to mess this up, Robbie.”
“You’re not.”
“I could,” he said quietly. “I’ve got a talent for it.”
“I’m not great at this either.” I reached out, brushing my fingers against his. “Then we’ll take it slow. Talk. Figure it out. Together.”
He stared at our hands for a moment, then laced his fingers through mine as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Okay,” he murmured. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
The awkward tension in the room softened, replaced by something warm and fragile, and real. Ashton squeezed my hand once, then let go to take another sip of tea.
“Is this a good time for me to tell you that you’re a blanket hog?” I said, meeting his gaze over the top of my mug.
“Rude,” he said, smirking, “by the way you snore.”
“I do not.” I gasped.
“You absolutely do. It’s adorable.”
I groaned. “Brilliant. Add that to the list of things I’m overthinking today.”
He laughed — a proper, bright laugh — and the knot in my chest loosened.