Chapter 7
Zelda
"You're not Millie."
Wait. Where the hell am I?
Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I asked, "Is that a compliment?
" I peered down at Ash, his body sprawled over mine, and it all came rushing back.
Leaving Denver, the airport, the résumé, the urgent care clinic, the new boss currently using my belly as a pillow.
What a day. I couldn't go home so I had to go big.
And now, the woman standing in the doorway to Ash's bedroom was certain to keep the crazy streak alive.
There was no other way for women who appeared in bedrooms like this. "Or an accusation?"
Who was she? Too calm about this to be his girlfriend.
Too dressed up to be his personal trainer.
Too in his apartment on a Saturday morning to be a colleague or business partner.
I knew he didn't have a Pepper Potts-inspired personal assistant to rouse him from bed and manage his days because that was my new gig.
Maybe she was a friend. An extremely familiar friend who had a key to his apartment and free rein to visit as she pleased. I'd assumed that only happened in the land of sitcoms but the world was in the process of proving me wrong about everything.
The woman considered my questions, the corner of her mouth pulling up as she pointed at Ash. "How is he still asleep? And what the hell happened to him?" Not waiting for a response, she pressed two fingers to her lips and whistled. "Ash Indigo. Time to get up."
He groaned against my belly and the sound vibrated through my skin and bones and organs. Not moving from his tangled-around-me spot, he said, "Oh my fucking god, Magnolia. Shut up and go away."
"Your…your name is Ash Indigo?" I asked, running my palm over his good shoulder. The other was a mottled mess of purple, red, and yellow.
"You are not Millie," she repeated, a laugh ringing in her words. She dropped her hands to her waist, tapped her pale pink polished fingers there. "Not even a little bit."
Still rubbing his shoulder, I continued, "Is that your two-name first name? Like Mary Anne?" As uncomfortable as this wake-up call was, I couldn't stop touching him. "Or is it your middle name? Or a stage name? That seems unlikely but…Indigo."
Ash groaned again and whatever the arousal version of a contact high was, I had it. I was already hooked on his growls and grumbles and groans.
The woman—Magnolia—tilted her head, smiling at me. "It's his middle name," she said. "Ash, you need to get your precious mood-ring ass out of bed. Mom is going to be here any minute and I know she would fucking love this entire situation but I'm trying to do you a favor."
Mom. That explained so much.
"Why are you here?" he rumbled, his arms still fixed around my waist and his face pressed to the skin exposed by my rucked-up t-shirt.
Magnolia glanced at me, her brows furrowed and forehead creased as if she couldn't believe his question. "Why am I here, Ash? Is that what you're saying to Not Millie's belly? I wasn't sure. I can't hear you on account of the belly mumbling."
"Her name is Zelda and you're being a pain in the fucking ass right now, Magnolia," he replied. All rumbles, all grumbles.
"Right, yeah, you're also being a pain in my fucking ass," she said.
"You're getting fitted for your suit today.
Remember? Remember how this was the only day in your extremely busy schedule and it's the absolute last minute the tailor could squeeze you in and guarantee the alterations for the wedding?
And Mom and I said we'd pick you up and take you there ourselves because we didn't trust you wouldn't fall down a work hole and forget.
Because you tend to forget things when they don't involve your primary interests of work and more work, Ash. "
One more groan. One more grumble. And then— "Fuck."
He rolled away from me, hissing with pain as the injured side of his body met the mattress. "Don't do that," I warned, slipping my arm around his shoulders. "Here. Let me help you up."
"Not to be annoying or anything but is anyone going to explain to me what happened?" Magnolia asked. "What's the sling all about?"
I scrambled to my knees to support Ash's exit from the bed.
When his feet hit the floor, he turned to face me.
I'd noticed the erection against my leg.
Of course I did. One couldn't ignore that sort of thing.
But seeing it barely restrained behind a thin pair of boxers was an entirely different experience.
"Oh my god. Put the wood away, dude," Magnolia said, sighing. She pressed her hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes. "You're scaring Not Millie."
He patted my head like I was a puppy and turned away, crossing the room. Over his shoulder he called, "I told you, Magnolia. Enough with that Not Millie shit. It's Zelda. Get it right or get the fuck out."
Not bothering to close the door when he entered the adjoining bathroom, Ash started and stopped the taps, brushed his teeth, and flipped the toilet lid open. Magnolia and I stared at each other while Ash relieved himself. How fortunate was I to witness that event twice in a matter of hours?
"Hi," she said with a wave. "I'm Magnolia."
"Zelda," I replied, still kneeling on the bed. "But I think you heard that already."
"Oh, I did." Her dark eyes glittered. "My brother never once snapped at me about Millie."
The toilet flushed and Ash called, "Stop. Talking. Now."
I pointed toward the bathroom. "He had a rough day. Yesterday."
She gave me an incredulous look. "You think? His arm is in a sling, he's bruised to shit, and—while you seem delightful—you are not the woman I expected to find in my brother's bed on a Saturday morning."
The door banged shut behind him and Ash said, "Magnolia, I told you—"
"What on earth? Why on earth is there luggage in the foyer like this?"
All heads swiveled in the direction of the hallway.
"I told you she was coming," Magnolia whispered.
Ash pressed his hand to his forehead, kneaded his temple. "And I told you to stop talking," he said. "I have the worst fucking headache and I swear to god, I'm going to stab myself in the arm."
"Don't stab yourself. I'm not taking you back to urgent care today. They'll think I'm abusing you." I crawled out of bed and fumbled for the prescription bottle on the bedside table. I dropped a tablet into my palm and held it out to him. "Take this."
He downed the tablet and leaned against me, his good arm around my shoulders. If I lived to be three hundred years old, I'd never understand how anyone could swallow pills dry. "I'd tell them you're not beating me," he said, resting his forehead against the crown of my head.
"I'd appreciate that," I replied, more than aware Ash's sister was watching us with rapt attention and his mother was a moment or two away. "Any chance you could tell me who Millie is?"
"No one," he whispered.
It seemed like an answer with too much simplicity, considering his sister was dead set on the belief Millie would be the woman in his bed. Yet I replied, "Okay."
"Any chance there are some over-easy eggs and home fries in my future? Can you make that happen too?"
"Is that what it's going to take to get you ready to roll for this suit fitting?"
"Don't make me go," he mumbled. "I swear, I will stab myself if I have to put a suit coat on today."
"One step at a time, all right? How about something more than underwear?"
"I'll consider it," he said.
I wasn't sure but it felt like he might've kissed my hair then—right when his mother walked into the bedroom and said, "That's not Millie."