Chapter 8
ASHLEY
Carter: Spark, where ARE you? Drop a pin.
Royce: Tell Nate to drive safely, or I’ll run him over with his own truck.
Heath: We love you, Ashes. Are you okay?
I was alone when I finally woke up, but it only took a minute of stretching to realize I was no longer in the hospital.
No longer wearing gray pajamas and locked in a sterile room where the bed was bolted to the floor.
Vague, hazy memories of Nate coming to pick me up flitted across my mind, but they were very quickly muddled with crazy drug dreams. And sex dreams. About Nate, of all fucking people.
“Holy shit,” I whispered aloud, swiping a hand over my gritty eyes. I needed coffee, and a lot of it. And I really, really needed to see my guys. They must be going out of their minds with worry…
With a groan, I sat up in the huge bed and grimaced at how achy my whole body was. The room was empty, and there was no sign of Nate anywhere. Had he just dumped me in this hotel and left? Fucking coward.
As if summoned by my venomous thoughts, the door opened. The devil himself swept through, looking as stunning as always and carrying a tray with two coffee cups. A couple of shopping bags were held in his other hand, and he cast a cryptic look my way as he kicked the door shut.
“Good morning, Duckling,” he said when I remained silent. “How did you sleep?”
I flinched at that nickname, a chill running over my skin. “Why did you call me that?”
“What?”
“Duckling. Why’d you call me that?” That was what he’d called me in one of those fucked-up drug dreams. Sex dreams. Fuck. My face flamed.
Nate casually crossed over to the table near the window and put down his bags. “Does it bother you?”
My lips parted, then closed several times, but no words came out. Did it bother me? No. Did it do inexplicable things to my insides? Yes.
When I said nothing, his lips curved in a smile, then he crossed the gap to offer me one of the coffees. “Figured you could use this,” he said.
I kept my gaze firmly on the coffee and his hand wrapped around it, stubbornly not meeting his eyes for fear he’d see right through me. That he’d somehow know how filthy my imagination was where he was concerned.
“Thanks,” I murmured, reaching to accept the cup. Our fingers connected, and he didn’t let the cup go.
Confused, I glanced up and inhaled sharply when our gazes locked. “You’re welcome, Layne,” he said softly, then winked as his lips curled in a half smile. But that meant nothing in light of the bruise coloring his right cheek.
My jaw dropped. “What happened to you?”
His grin spread wider as he released my coffee and turned back to the stack of bags he’d brought in with him. “I picked you up a new phone, as well as some clothes. If you want to shower, we can get back on the road. It’s still a solid fifteen hours driving back to Prosper City.”
“Fifteen hours?” I squeaked, having just swallowed a mouthful of my coffee. “Fuck. Okay, yep, shower.” I glanced down at myself, then froze when I saw what I was wearing—a loose, dark-gray men’s T-shirt with Nevaeh U across the chest in gold. One I’d seen Royce wear dozens of times.
“If you’re okay being alone, I’ll get the truck gassed up while you shower,” Nate continued, not seeming to notice my panic.
Swallowing hard, I mustered up a sound of agreement and covered my freak-out by gulping more coffee. “Yep, totally fine.”
I was not even remotely fine. That wasn’t a dream?!
Nate said something else as he grabbed his keys and headed for the door, but I wasn’t listening. I just waved him off with a shaking hand, then the second he was gone, I launched out of bed and raced into the bathroom.
“Holy fuck,” I exclaimed when my own reflection confronted me as I grasped the vanity. “You fucked Nate, you idiot .”
My reflection glared back at me as if to say it wasn’t my fault! But all I could think about was the way Nate had fucking told me, several times, that I wasn’t dreaming.
“You stupid bitch,” I whispered in horror. Because deep down, I think I’d known I wasn’t dreaming…but at the same time, it was the only way I could ignore my anger and resentment toward him long enough to satisfy my craving.
Did I still want to kill him? Kind of.
Had I managed to get him out of my system? Absolutely not. Nate Essex was inside my head a thousand times worse than before, and I just knew this was going to hurt me.
Muttering to myself about letting my vagina make the important decisions, I stripped out of Royce’s shirt and hopped in the shower, then spent at least twenty minutes attempting to scrub the residual feeling of Nate’s hands off my skin.
Not that I didn’t like it…quite the opposite. I liked it way too much.
When I was as clean as I was ever going to get, I dressed in the clothes Nate had bought for me—all activewear which would be comfy for the long drive, thank fuck—then combed out my wet hair. I didn’t have the energy to blow dry it, so just tied it up in a bun and called it good.
“Ready to go?” Nate asked when I opened the bathroom door once more. He was sitting on the end of the bed, fiddling with his phone while waiting for me, but looked up when I stepped out. His gaze dragged over me so slowly, it made me shiver, and I had to physically swallow back the need to whimper.
Fuck. This was going to be a long-ass drive.
“Mm-hmm, yep,” I replied, aiming for casual nonchalance that he wasn’t going to buy for anything.
Sure enough, his lips tilted with that maddeningly sexy half smirk of his. “Anything you wanna talk about before we hit the road?”
I flinched. Actually fucking flinched. “Nope.”
His eyes narrowed, and I found it hard to breathe. Even harder to look away. “You sure? Nothing at all on your mind, Duckling?” Just to illustrate his point, he fake-scratched his bruised cheek ever so casually.
I wet my lips, my breathing short and sharp, like I was standing in front of a predator. Hell, I was.
“Nothing springs to mind,” I lied. “We should go.”
He squinted at me for another long moment, then sighed, running a hand through his hair and releasing me from his gaze. “If you say so.”
“I do,” I huffed, crossing over to collect the brand-new phone and sim card from the table where he’d left it. “I’ll get this sorted while we drive.”
Nate said nothing, just sipped his coffee and waited while I slipped on the white sneakers he’d bought in my size, then held the door for me to exit ahead of him.
The hotel wasn’t huge; we only needed to ride the elevator three floors and his truck was parked right by the lobby, which was convenient.
Especially when I acknowledged how sore my vagina was when walking. Damn big-dick men.
“You good?” Nate asked with a hint of amusement as I winced while climbing up into the cab.
Asshole. I pursed my lips and jerked a sharp nod. “Super,” I replied, then saw the box of donuts sitting on the center console. Nate closed my door before I could ask, so I needed to wait for him to climb into the driver’s side with my mouth watering.
“What?” he asked, closing his own door and arching a brow my way.
I dipped my head toward the donuts. “Those for me?”
He gave a huff of amusement, shaking his head as he started up the truck. “No, they’re for the other girl with a massive sweet tooth that I rescued from a psych hospital last night.”
I rolled my eyes but was too busy taking a bite of the first donut to respond with anything remotely quick-witted. Instead, all I could do was moan like a porn star when the original glaze coated my tongue.
The leather of the steering wheel gave a creak, and I opened one eye to find Nate’s knuckles white with the way he gripped it. “Stop it,” he growled. “Or this will be a very long drive back.”
The donut stuck in my throat, and I had to swallow hard to clear it. He was messing with me…right? Unwilling to open that can of worms, I just took another bite and chewed it quietly as Nate drove us out of the town we’d stayed in for the night.
Once I finished four of the six donuts, my stomach ached, and I had regrets.
“There’s a Starbucks coming up in about twenty minutes,” Nate said quietly after glancing at me clutching my stomach uncomfortably. “If you want to stop for more coffee.”
I nodded quickly. “Always.”
Deciding to distract myself away from the huge elephant riding in the truck with us, I pulled out the new phone and went to work getting it set up. Nate had bought me a new sim—and new number—which meant I needed to borrow his phone to copy the guys’ and Carly’s numbers into it.
“Send me a message so I’ve got your new number,” he told me when I handed his device back.
I clicked my tongue, already creating a group chat thread with just Carter, Royce, and Heath. “Nope.”
His head swiveled toward me with a scowl set on his brow. “Nope?”
I shrugged. “Maybe I don’t want you to have my new number.”
He grunted and shook his head. “Don’t be childish, Layne.”
My jaw dropped. “I’m not being childish , you insufferable prick. I’m angry at you .”
Nate sighed. “Because of last night?”
The breath caught in my chest, and my throat tightened. “Nothing happened last night,” I growled from between clenched teeth.
I’d have to have my head buried in the sand not to see the exaggerated way he rolled his eyes. “Okay, sure. If that’s how you want to play it. Nothing happened .” The sarcasm was so heavy, it almost crushed me.
“You’re unbelievable,” I squeaked with stunned disbelief. “Stay on topic, Essex. You fucking had me committed to a psych hospital so your insane mother could play games with my head.”
His head snapped around to stare at me for so long, I worried we would crash.
He was driving on the freeway at least twenty over the speed limit, but the car didn’t even waver an inch.
“I did not have you committed, Layne. I’m the one who came and got you out, or were you too out of it to remember that part? ”
I scoffed, refusing to let him sidestep.
“Explain to me how the hospital came into possession of a legal document signing away my medical rights to you , then? Because that was definitely my signature, and I have no recollection of signing any such document. I do, however, recall signing a so-called prenup contract right before I woke up in the hospital.”
He didn’t respond immediately, instead exhaling heavily and running a hand through his hair for a moment. “Okay. I can see how that looks bad.”
“Oh, you can?” I handed the sarcasm back to him. “Super.”
“The MPOE document is a standard inclusion within the prenup contract. I also queried this with my legal team, and they confirmed it was in-line with all their clients of similar financial standing,” he said slowly and carefully, like he was attempting to disarm a bomb with his words.
“It was never intended to be a sneaky backstab, and I had no intention of ever using it to harm you, Duckling. It was?—”
“Stop calling me that,” I growled, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. Every time he called me that, it made me think of how he’d said it while his face was still slick with my pussy juice.
He huffed a little laugh. “Make me, Duckling ."
Without thinking through my actions, I whacked him in the chest with the back of my hand. Harder than I would to a real friend, but not hard enough to see him crash the truck. A strangled little moan escaped him, and he raised his fist to bite the knuckles while shock made my jaw drop again .
“You’re messing with me,” I muttered in disbelief.
He gave a little groan and adjusted his pants. “I wish I were. Believe me .”
I swallowed hard because the frustration and confusion in his voice was impossible to ignore.
Now I was all tangled up inside my head, and my skin was too fucking hot.
“Let’s just…drive in silence. It’s a long way back to Prosper.
” I gestured to the GPS estimated time of arrival, then shifted my position so I could lean against the door.
For several minutes, silence reigned supreme. Then from the corner of my eye, I caught Nate glancing over at me.
“For what it’s worth, Ashley, it was a reciprocal form.
You didn’t give me any power that I didn’t give to you in return.
” Then he reached out and turned the radio on, cycling through a couple of stations until he found something he was happy with, something that eliminated the pressure to respond or really speak at all.
Good. Because I had no clue what I’d say back to that.