13. Ash #2
We never made plans. He didn’t promise to be here tonight, but I thought . . . I thought he would be. I was looking forward to it, and now that he’s not, it feels an awful lot like being stood up.
I stand, and though I’m tempted to try one last time, I’m not going to beg. “Night, Callum.”
For a second, I swear I see branches twitch, but no one appears, so I guess I imagined that too.
Once inside, I lock the door, thinking of it as little fuck you until I remember he still has my keys.
My converted garage has never felt cold or unwelcoming before, but it kind of does now. I shiver as I undress and crawl under the quilt. He’s spent two nights in my bed. Two, that’s all, but it already seems too big without him in it.
Fuck’s sake, Ash. Get a grip.
I turn the light off, but unlike the last two nights, sleep doesn’t come easily. I miss his warmth, his solid presence, and I know it’s ridiculous—it’s not like he’s been here for months—but I feel it all the same.
I come awake with a jolt.
It’s pitch black, and for a second, I have no idea what woke me. Then I hear the soft snick of the front door being gently closed.
I’m not afraid, not worried about who’s just entered my home, because that familiar feeling kicks in.
It’s him.
He’s silent now, either not moving or incredibly quiet for such a big guy. Instinct tells me it’s the latter, and I have about two seconds to decide whether to feign sleep or not.
I close my eyes and attempt to regulate my breathing.
The air shifts and I sense his presence in the doorway. The temptation to open my eyes, to search him out, is almost too much, but I’m still upset. No . . . disappointed. Maybe a mix of the two. And I’m not ready to let it go.
I feel his eyes on me, the weight of his stare like a tangible thing as I concentrate on breathing in, then out. Nice and steady.
A heavy sigh.
Then, “I’m sorry.”
A pause, then a whispered, “Fuck,” and I’m just about to open my eyes when he speaks again.
“I wanted to come in. When you asked me.”
I fucking knew he was out there. “Then why didn’t you?” I blurt, unable to keep the words in.
If I startled him, he doesn’t show it. “It’s—”
“If the next word out of your mouth is complicated, then you can just turn around and fuck off.” I push up onto my elbows, only to make out his silhouette, but it’s enough to focus my anger on. “I’m sick of people telling me that. Tell me the truth. I can take it.”
Another sigh, just as heavy as the first. “I don’t know about that, but I can’t tell you what you want to hear. Not yet.”
I take a deep breath and force my anger back down. I asked him for the truth and he gave it to me. I might not like this version, but it’s better than complicated. “Does this have anything to do with what Morgan wants to talk to me about?” I hold my breath.
He hesitates, and I prepare for more bullshit, but he surprises me.
“Yes.”
“And the reason you did a security check on my home? The reason I’m being watched twenty-four seven? That’s all connected?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Jesus.” I run a hand through my hair, using my injured wrist as it turns out, but I don’t realise until Callum is there gently easing my arm down.
“You need to be more careful with that wrist.”
How the fuck did he get over here so quickly? Something prickles at the back of my mind, but he’s stroking my fingers, his other hand coming up to cradle my jaw, and whatever thought I was chasing vanishes under his touch. “It’s almost better,” I whisper. “I think.”
He glances down at the brace, gently turns my wrist forwards and back again. “I think you’re right.”
I close my eyes, tiredness creeping up on me, and I’m enjoying his hands on me too much to stay angry at still having the truth kept from me.
But not for much longer.
“I’m coming to the compound on Saturday.”
He stills.
“Morgan’s going to share everything he’s been keeping from me.” I know I don’t imagine the hitch in Callum’s breathing. My fingers close around his. “Then you and I can talk.”
“If you want to.” His voice is rougher than I’ve ever heard it, full of something that sounds a lot like resignation.
“And you’ll tell me why you weren’t going to come in tonight, why you think me and my family might be in danger?” I don’t know how those things are connected to Morgan, but I want to find out. I’m so fucking tired of half-truths and secrets.
Callum draws me in until our foreheads touch. His eyes are closed, so I close mine too.
His voice is softer now, but the resignation, the defeat, is still there. “If you still want to ask me after you’ve spoken to Morgan, then yes. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
I open my mouth to ask him what the hell he means by that, but he slides his thumb over my lips.
“Don’t.” A small shake of his head. “Don’t ask me anything else. I’m tired of secrets too, Ash.”
“Saturday,” I say, wondering if I should move that date up, because my curiosity is gonna kill me. But I’ve still got a job to go to, and I want to be here for my mum when I’m not at work. I’ve waited this long. It won’t kill me to wait a few more days.
“Saturday.” He climbs over me and lies down on top of the quilt instead of under it. And he’s still fully dressed.
“Not getting in?”
“Not tonight. I can’t stay long.”
Disappointment creeps in again, even though I don’t want to feel it. We’re not together. We’re not anything.
I need to remember that.
But it’s so fucking hard when he lifts his arm and I settle under it with my head on his chest. When the sigh he lets out sounds happy and content instead of resigned, like this is where he’s supposed to be. When he whispers, “Night, Ash,” and his lips brush my hair in the softest kiss.
I fall asleep hiding a smile against his jacket, my mind full of thoughts I really shouldn’t be having.
He’s gone when I wake up.
I’m used to it now.
Doesn’t stop me from sliding a hand over the quilt where he lay, surprised when it’s still warm. He stayed longer than usual.
I reach for my phone, not to check the time, although I pause when I see I’ve slept late again. Tomorrow’s going to hurt when I have to get up for work.
But that thought gets quickly overshadowed when I see Callum’s name. Relief hits me. After last night, I wondered if this would stop too.
Cal: You sleep like the dead
That’s it.
The whole message.
Still makes me smile though.
I bite my lip, thumb hovering over the keyboard on my phone screen. How honest do I want to be?
Ash: I was tired. Couldn’t get to sleep last night because you weren’t there
I hit Send before I can second-guess it.
He doesn’t reply straight away, but I refuse to read into it. I set my phone to one side and go take a shower.
By the time I come out, there’s a message waiting for me.
Cal: I’ll be there tonight
Four words.
Four little words are all it takes to make me happy. A pool of warmth expands behind my ribs, knowing whatever made him hesitate last night is gone.
If I want him, he’ll be here every night. I know it with a surety I can almost taste, and despite his secrets, despite a part of me knowing there’s something different about him that I’m wilfully ignoring . . . I do want him.
In more ways than just in my bed.