Chapter 11
Eleven
Nova
Classes resume, and already, I’m in over my head with the course load. Ashton and I are both taking Criminology together. We’re in the same class, which might explain why I’m failing.
I suppose I’ve been paying more attention to him than the lessons.
He’s easy on the eyes, and I keep daydreaming about what I’d do to him with a pair of handcuffs.
Well, that’s not the only fantasy of Ashton fleeting through my mind, but it’s the most prominent in this class. It doesn’t hurt that he bought a pair of furry pink handcuffs this week, but we haven’t gotten time to use them.
It’s like I have an itch that desperately needs scratching.
Distracted?
Understatement of the century, and to top it off, the teacher also loves to give us pop quizzes, so it’s not like I can study before the exam. Ashton glances at the giant red F on my paper as the teaching assistant returns our quizzes.
“Shit,” I curse under my breath.
Ashton’s brow is furrowed, and he nudges my arm. “Don’t worry, we’ll study tonight.”
“You have practice,” I remind him. I liked early summer, spending time with Ashton, without worrying about school or his training camp for hockey.
Now, it’s like I have to compete for his attention, but at least it’s not against other girls.
The teaching assistant, Henry, grabs the seat next to me, as we’re in the back row against the wall.
I continue to take notes, trying my best to pay attention after the lousy grade.
I start packing up my things as class ends, and Henry leans toward me, invading my personal space.
His voice is low, rumbly, and barely above a whisper, like what he’s saying is meant only for my ears.
“Do you want to grab lunch together? I could help you study this evening or another night at my place.”
My mouth drops, and I’m stunned.
Henry has spoken a handful of words to me, but it’s always a polite hello or if he can borrow a pencil. He’s never blatantly asked me to grab a meal with him—and he’s the teaching assistant for this class. Isn’t that against some kind of code of conduct?
Ashton is staring at me, wondering what the hell is going on, and I don’t blame him.
I force a reassuring smile his way, and then my face falls slack as I stare at Henry. “I have plans with my boyfriend, Ashton, for lunch.” I shove the rest of the papers haphazardly into my backpack and zip it up, wanting to get the hell out of there, pronto.
I’m a bit disheveled after what Henry asked me. It’s not like he suggested a study group he was hosting. He asked me about studying with him, at night, at his place.
I’m definitely not reading too much into it.
“And what about that study session, just you and me?” Henry asks, his throat raspy as he leans closer. “I can make sure your grade gets turned around.”
I’ll bet he can.
“Excuse me?” Ashton overhears Henry. My boyfriend grabs my arm, pulling me behind him as he steps forward, face-to-face with Henry.
Oh, shit.
“She already told you she’s not interested,” Ashton growls at Henry. “Quit asking my girlfriend if she needs a tutor. If someone’s going to help her, it’s going to be me.”
I rest a hand on Ashton’s arm, gently trying to tug him back. I don’t want him getting into a fight with the teaching assistant.
Ashton slings his bag over his shoulder and intertwines his hand with mine. “You ready to grab lunch, babe?”
Is Ashton trying to rub Henry’s nose in the fact that I’m not single, and he’s claiming me? Ordinarily, I’d find it hot and a turn on, but I’m a little worried that Henry might take it out on me next time he’s forced to grade one of my assignments.
We head out of the classroom and Ashton is right beside me, nudging me as we walk to lunch. “Can you believe that asshole? We should go over his head, to the professor or maybe the dean in his department. Someone should be aware that he’s hitting on the students!”
I tug Ashton’s hand, making him pause as I stop.
“I don’t want you making things worse for me.”
“Did you hear him?” Ashton stares at me, mouth agape. “He was hitting on you, and I’m worried if you don’t do as he demands, it’ll affect your grade. He’s slime, Nova!”
I try to shake off the anxiety prickling under my skin. “It’s just one quiz. It’s not worth that much of our grade. Don’t worry.” Although it isn’t the first pop quiz I failed in class.
“It’s the next exam I’m worried about for you,” Ashton says. He tugs me into the dining hall, and we both grab food at opposite ends. He stands in line for a sandwich while I grab a burger and fries.
I glance around while waiting in line, making sure Henry isn’t anywhere to be seen.
My stomach is doing somersaults.
I’ve never run into him outside of class in the past, but it doesn’t mean he may not have followed me. He’s on campus, he eats in the same dining hall, at least at some point, I imagine he does. Hopefully, not today, during this lunch hour.
After I grab my burger and fries, I snatch up a table for Ashton and me to sit. He’s still getting his sandwich, the line a little longer since they’re making his by hand.
I grab my backpack and pull out my criminology textbook. Every extra minute that I cram has to be beneficial. And there’s zero chance that I’d study with Henry alone. I’m not even sure it’s worth continuing the class that I’m in.
My food sits untouched as my eyes glaze over the text from today’s lesson.
Ashton strolls up to the table and shuts the textbook on me.
“What was that for?” I growl.
“Study tonight, when I’m at practice.” At our table, he grabs the seat across from me. “Eat your lunch.”
Sighing, I take the burger and take a bite.
“Happy?” I mumble.
He unwraps his sandwich. “I’d be happier if that douche didn’t ask you out in Criminology. What the hell was that?”
I’m pretty sure his question is rhetorical.
I merely shrug and shove my textbook back into my bag. “I don’t know. Asking me out is weird, right?”
Ashton glares up at me with a fire behind his dark eyes. “It would be weird not to be attracted to you. But asking you to lunch and to study at his place, highly inappropriate.”
So, Ashton did hear the entire exchange. I hadn’t been sure with how quiet Henry had attempted to be, whispering in my ear.
I grimace, just thinking about it playing over in my head is bothersome.
“I suck at Criminology and now, with the teaching assistant having it out for me, maybe I should drop the class.”
“You’ll get a W for withdrawn, but it won’t affect your GPA. You’re past the deadline where it doesn’t show up on your transcript, though.” Ashton stares seriously at me. “It’s up to you. Why’d you pick Criminology to take this semester? Aren’t you majoring in Sociology?”
I don’t admit that I chose the class because I knew Ashton would be in it. I thought it’d be fun to have class together. It sucks, though, because he’s doing a million times better than I am in the class.
His leg nudges me under the table.
“I thought it’d be easy.”
Ashton shakes his head and takes another bite of his sandwich. “You took it because I signed up for it. Didn’t you?”
“No!” I scoff at his suggestion. “I wouldn’t do that.” I glance away then down at my burger, grabbing it and taking a huge bite so I don’t have to answer him.
He laughs under his breath. “Good, because that would be reckless, Nova. You need to be taking classes for your major, or at the very least, the gen eds required.”
“Criminology was one of the electives that are part of the Sociology curriculum. Chill out. I’m not taking a class just because you’re in it. Don’t get such a big head, Ashton.”
“Right, my mistake.” He holds up his hand in mock surrender. “Do you want to try out those handcuffs tonight?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me.
My cheeks burn.
Boy, do I ever.
“Only if I get to lock you up,” I quip.
Ashton purses his lips, contemplating my request. “I’ll have to think about it. Whether you’re a good girl for me for the rest of the day or not.”
I snort.
“I’m always a good girl,” I say with a snicker.
“I don’t know about that; more times, you’re spice than anything nice.”
I grab a fry and pop it into my mouth, staring at him curiously. “I thought you liked a little spice in your life.”
“I like you in my life,” Ashton admits. There’s no hesitation on his part.
His leg slides up mine beneath the table, and my eyes widen.
Anyone could see us, and I’m not giving some spectator a free show!
“Oh my gosh. Quit it!” I scowl at him playfully.
“I’m worried about you. Are you still concerned about Henry?” He takes a bite of his sandwich and waits for me to answer.
I am a bit jolted over the ordeal. My silence only makes him nudge me under the table again, but this time his leg is playing with mine and my eyes widen. “Ashton!”
He grins and stares at me, his gaze never wavering. “I just don’t like seeing you upset.”
I let out a hefty sigh and grab a bite of my burger. I’m not very hungry, but I try to force it down because I should eat something. After I swallow it down, I grab a sip of water and glance up at him.
“I miss spending time with you. You’re at hockey practice all the time and the season is just starting.”
The Narwhals play their first game next week, away. It’s not that far, Great Falls, but I still hate that he won’t be home playing hockey.
Maybe I can convince Harper to come with me, and we’ll take the bus, make it a little surprise?
But she has Zeke, which tends to be a fun killer. Not that I don’t love that kid, but he has a routine, and if you don’t abide by it, he’s a little monster.
Ashton gives me a lopsided grin. “You knew when we first started dating that I play hockey. My schedule isn’t anything new.”
“I just hate it,” I confess. “You spend more time with the boys than me. Sorry, I guess I’m just jealous and feeling needy.” I avoid his stare and put my burger down on the plate, grabbing a fry instead.
“You’re cute, even when you’re moody.” Ashton is all smiles. “I promise, I can take care of the Henry situation, make him disappear.”
I think he’s trying to make me laugh.
The worry descends on my face.
He had better be joking.
While I know that Ashton works alongside my father, I’m not particularly thrilled about it.
“You’re not going to do anything to Henry,” I growl. “He’s my problem.”
“Anyone who’s your problem is my problem.” Ashton tilts his head, his eyes glancing me over, filled with concern. “And there are other ways to make the problem disappear. Like I said, I can go over his head.”
Exhaling heavily, I nod, considering the different options.
I don’t want to get him fired. At least, not yet. “Let me think on it?”
“As long as that thinking doesn’t involve you studying with another guy,” Ashton says and smiles. “Luca and Liam are the only exceptions.”
“Luca isn’t taking Criminology.” He’s steering far from those classes.
Ashton shrugs. “Then I guess you’ll have to study with me when I get home.”
“We can study before dinner,” I suggest.
We both have a break in classes and hockey practice is in the evening.
“I miss our weekends and we barely have any nights together. It just … it sucks.”
Ashton reaches across the table for my hand. He intertwines our fingers together. “I’ll make time for you. I promise.” Ashton means well, but he has a lot going on.
“Thanks.” A wayward smile crosses my face, and I push my plate aside, deciding I’ve eaten enough. My appetite is scarce this afternoon.
“How are things at my parents’?” I ask. He spends more time around them than I do lately.
“Dante is still pissed about what went down with Harper. He’s been in a foul mood ever since.”
I bite down on my bottom lip.
Ashton reaches out, his thumb stroking my mouth, tugging my lip free with his thumb. “It’s your parents’ house, you can join me if you want—”
“I’d prefer to avoid Dante if he’s been in a hellacious mood.” As much as I want to spend weekends, at least the night, curled up with Ashton, I’ve been trying to be supportive of Luca and Harper.
Dante has made it clear that she is no longer welcome in their home.
Luca and Harper are also my family.
“Trust me, his mood hasn’t gotten any better. Neither has your father’s,” Ashton admits. “I think he hates me.”
“Why? Because we’re together?” I hadn’t realized Dad knew about us, but now that it’s out in the open, I kind of want to flaunt it in their faces.
I’ve got a bit of trouble written under my skin.
Ashton finishes his lunch and scoots his chair back. I grab my bag and follow him, tossing our trash out on the way out of the dining hall. “Your dad has it out for me.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, walking alongside Ashton as he escorts me to my next class.
“I’m dating his daughter. If I fuck up anything in your life, he’ll kill me.”
I grab his hand and stop walking. We still have plenty of time until the next class. “Has he threatened you?”
“He doesn’t like me, Nova. That’s threat enough.”
“Maybe he just hasn’t gotten the opportunity to know you like I do,” I say, trying to reason with Ashton.
“I’m fucking his daughter.” Ashton stares at me seriously. “He’s an overbearing, protective father who worries about his daughter. I don’t blame him, but I’m certainly not having family dinners at your parents’ house.”
What he isn’t saying aloud is that my father is mafia. That’s the reason he’s most afraid.
“Never?” I ask, surprised. “You’ll never have dinner at my parents’ house?”
I wish I’d known Dad was aware of my relationship with Ashton. I would have invited Ashton to stay for dinner and get to know my parents better.
Why had he kept it from me? Not only Ashton, but my father as well?
“When was the last time you had dinner with your parents?” he asks.
It’s been months.
He tugs my hand to keep walking so we’re not late.
“That’s beside the point. I’m not having dinner there because Harper and Zeke aren’t invited. I’m boycotting their family dinners. Luca is also my family, and if they can’t accept Harper and Zeke, then I’m not showing up.”
As I approach the old stone building, Ashton grabs my other hand, pulling me against him. His breath teases my lips apart.
I lean in, wanting to kiss him when he asks, “Do you think Harper would betray the family again?”
My brow pinches, curious why he’s asking me that question.
I pull back slightly, stunned. “I don’t know. I’m surprised she went to the police in the first place. You’d have to ask Luca that question. Why?”
“Come on, you’re one of her best friends. She doesn’t talk to you about this stuff?” Ashton’s question makes my heart turn to ice.
He’s not asking out of concern for her.
A breezy gust of autumn air whips past me and I shiver. Dropping Ashton’s hands, I take a step back. “Dante asked you to spy on Harper, didn’t he?”