Chapter Thirty-one #2
Ashton was smiling at a sweet romantic scene between the two leads in her book when a set of rapid knocks disrupted her peace.
“Of course,” she mumbled.
She untangled herself from the couch and padded to the door in her bare feet. She watched through the peephole at a dark head pacing back and forth. When it stopped, Ashton jerked back and opened the door.
“What are you doing here?”
Razor stood smiling in her cargo shorts, a white Slugfest T-shirt, and sandals. As she took in the entire package, Ashton noticed Razor juggling a drink tray, a paper bag, and…was that a poster tube?
“Hey. I hope I’m not bothering you.”
“Not at all. Please, come in.”
She waved Razor in and watched her deposit her bounty on the table.
“What’s all this?”
Razor pulled out the wrapped sandwiches. “I wanted to show you something, and I thought I’d bring lunch, too. If you want to get dressed, I’ll get this set up.”
“I’m already dressed,” Ashton said, hands on hips.
She looked down at her attire—light pink tank top and short white khaki shorts.
Sure, she could go put on a bra, but it was too much of a hassle.
Plus, this was her house, her day off, so she would be comfortable.
When she looked up, Razor stared at her with a hunger she hadn’t seen since that night in Henderson. God, that felt like a lifetime ago.
Razor swallowed and shrugged nervously. “If you’re okay with it, it doesn’t bother me.” Ashton bit her lip and watched the blush rise on Razor’s cheeks and the nervous hand run through her hair. She sat next to Razor, their shoulders brushing as Razor produced napkins.
“This smells amazing,” Ashton said as she unwrapped her sandwich. Smoked turkey on sourdough, minus the mayo.
They ate in relative silence and enjoyed their meal, discussing mundane topics and reminiscing about the thrashing they gave the Bears. Once the sandwiches were half gone, and the iced coffees replaced with bottled waters, Razor pulled out a set of blueprints from the tube.
“What are these?”
“These are for the new Slugfest Mental Preparation Center. You were right. That back room was perfect for mental training. So I reached out to a contractor and had him draw up some blueprints.”
Ashton rolled her lips, nervous. “Does this mean I can’t rent the space?”
Razor shook her head and patted Ashton’s leg. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning to move ahead with any construction until the following spring. These plans are just the start. I have to get financing and other things in place before construction begins.”
Ashton sighed, relieved, as Razor released her leg—dammit—and shuffled the plans to bring one specific sheet to the top. The excitement radiated off her if the enthusiastic grin was any indicator. She had Ashton grinning herself.
“This is the basic framing, but I wanted to get your opinion on the layout.”
Ashton eyed the blue-hued paper. She didn’t know how to read blueprints, but she could make out the skeletal structure of at least three separate rooms.
“Which room is which?”
Razor pointed to the first square on the lower left.
“This will be therapy room number one. I figured it would be used as the primary room for athletes who come in with physical injuries and can’t walk too far.”
Ashton nodded her agreement, then pointed at the room toward the back on the same side.
“And this room?”
“This would be the exit room. I would cut a door leading out to the cages on this wall.” Razor pointed where the back wall separated the facility from the rest of Slugfest. “This way they can hit a few if they feel up to it.”
Ashton rubbed her chin. “I don’t think that’ll work.
I think it would be better to have the exit to the hallway and another door leading to the back parking lot.
Then you give patients anonymity, the ability to exit without drawing attention to their visit.
Your bathrooms in the hallway give a perfect excuse.
If they want to stay anonymous, they leave out the back.
If they want to go to the cages, people will think they went to the bathroom. ”
She turned and caught Razor’s grin.
“I like that.” Razor took out a white pen and put a big X across the door and drew a rough one in the new location. “Anything else?”
Ashton pointed to the two squares on the opposite side of the exit room. “What are these two rooms over here?”
Razor pointed to the back square. “This will be another therapy room, and this”—she pointed to the front square—“will be your office.”
Ashton gaped. “My…office?”
Razor’s smile faltered.
“I mean, it can be your office. Or one of the other rooms could work, too. I just thought you’d want it to be close to the front desk so you can greet patients and…I can’t tell if you like it or hate it.”
Ashton looked down at the prints, then back at Razor, whose concern only increased the longer she remained silent.
“Razor, I’m flattered, but…why?”
“Why not? You’re going to be a great psychologist. And we’d be lucky to have you out there.”
Ashton scoffed and walked to the end of the couch. “Yeah, I’m so great. I’m training to read people and be able to get to the heart of their issues so they can live fuller, healthier lives. I couldn’t even tell when my ex-friend was manipulating me.”
Razor joined her and clasped her hands. “You underestimated Nancy. We all did. It’s nothing you should feel guilty about.”
“If I can’t tell when the people close to me are telling me the truth, how can I expect to do it with total strangers?”
“You’re still learning how to navigate this field, Ashton. It’s not always going to be easy, and it may take longer than you intend with one patient or another. It doesn’t make you unqualified. It makes you determined. Because I know you’ll continue to push people to help them.”
“You sound so sure.”
“I sound sure because I’m living proof. You were the one who reached out to Haley to talk to me. You built a defense for me, and you nearly assaulted the woman who caused all my torment for years.”
Ashton looked up and noticed the smile on Razor’s lips.
“Courtney told you about that?”
Razor pulled Ashton close and looped her arms around Ashton’s waist. “You helped me so much these last few months, and by doing so, you helped me find the redemption I wouldn’t allow myself.”
Ashton looped her arms around Razor’s neck. “I think you just made good on our pact.”
Razor smiled and stared at her lips. “Oh really?”
Ashton nodded and felt Razor’s hands slowly gliding up and down her back. She was sure it was meant to soothe, but all it did was spark a need.
“Now who’s the touchy-feely one,” Ashton whispered. They laughed. Then something shifted. Razor’s eyes darkened, desire dilated her pupils. Ashton’s stomach fluttered, her breathing shallowed. She wanted this woman. That hadn’t changed in seven years, and it wasn’t going to for many more to come.
She tugged gently and forced Razor to stand.
Eyes searched each other, looking for a sign this was what they wanted.
Razor must’ve found her answer because she eased forward, her hand anchored to Ashton’s cheek, and placed a slow, sensual kiss on her lips.
While it started tentative, there was no doubt the desire in that one simple meeting of lips.
Ashton wanted more.
She pulled Razor until their bodies were flush, opening her mouth in silent invitation.
She moaned as their tongues stroked, explored, and fed their growing need for each other.
At one point, Razor’s hand slid from her cheek, across her collarbone, and down her chest. As Razor’s hand settled on Ashton’s breast, squeezing it lightly, Ashton’s breath caught, causing her to unintentionally pull back.
“I’m sorry,” Razor panted. “I got carried away.” She started to pull her hand away, but Ashton quickly pressed it back to her breast. The pressure intensified, sending sparks of desire up and down her body.
“Please don’t pull away,” Ashton panted.
“But we agreed to wait.”
“The semester is officially over,” Ashton said. “Do you really want to wait however many more games there are to do this? I know I don’t. I don’t want to wait another day to show you how much I love you.”
“You love me?”
Ashton chuckled and grabbed Razor’s chin. “Yes, I do. I’ve been showing you every way I could for the last five months. And I’d like to add one more.”
Razor dipped her head and took Ashton into another heated kiss. This one was more demanding, and it seared Ashton inside and out. She clung to Razor, devouring her mouth.
When Razor pulled back what felt like a million years later, Ashton’s whimper of protest was quickly replaced by a groan of pleasure as Razor nipped her earlobe.
“In case that’s not clear enough,” Razor said, “I love you, too.”
Ashton ran her hands through Razor’s dark hair before pulling her into another soul-shattering kiss.
The time for talking was over. With their lips locked, Ashton walked backward, pulling Razor with her until they cleared the couch and table.
Only then did Ashton reluctantly break the kiss and turn away, pulling Razor purposefully to her bedroom.