Chapter 38 Ash
ASH
I wake up with Tish’s warm body pressed against my chest, her dark hair spilled across my arm like silk.
For a moment, I let myself enjoy the feeling, the way she fits perfectly against me, the soft sound of her breathing, and the faint scent of her shampoo that somehow survived last night’s activities.
Then reality crashes down on me like a freight train.
What the hell have I done? Again?
Jake is sprawled on her other side, one arm thrown possessively over her waist, while Carl sits in the chair by the window, already dressed and staring out at the snow that’s still falling steadily.
The older man catches my eye and nods, his expression unreadable. At least someone else is awake to share in this awkward morning-after situation.
Last time, Tish left before any of us woke. I didn’t have much time to think about what had happened.
I’ve never shared a woman before, but I put Christmas Eve down to too much eggnog and refused to examine my feelings.
But it’s happened again and I’m not sure what to think about it.
I carefully extract myself from the bed, trying not to wake Tish.
She murmurs something in her sleep and turns toward Jake, who automatically pulls her closer.
The sight sends an unexpected stab of jealousy through my chest, which only makes me feel worse about this whole situation.
This is Trent’s little sister.
My best friend’s little sister. And last night, I didn’t just cross that line, I obliterated it.
Again. I grab my clothes from the floor and slip into the bathroom to get dressed, needing a moment to collect myself.
Growing up in a strict Christian household, I was taught that sex was sacred, something to be shared between a husband and wife.
Even after my parents’ hypocrisy was exposed, even after I lost faith in organized religion, those values stuck with me.
I’ve never been the type to sleep around, never been one for casual hookups or meaningless encounters.
But what happened the other night, it wasn’t meaningless.
At least not for me.
I don’t think it was for Carl either.
Jake, I’m not so sure about.
The way Tish looked at me, touched me, whispered my name, it felt like everything I’d been denying myself for years finally came to the surface.
The attraction I’ve been fighting, the protective instincts that go way beyond friendship, the way my heart races every time she smiles at me.
I’m in love with her.
The realization hits me like a slap shot to the gut. I’ve been in love with Tish for god knows how long, and I’ve been too much of a coward to admit it, even to myself.
But loving her doesn’t make this situation any less complicated. She’s still Trent’s sister.
I still shared her with two other men last night.
And I still have no idea what any of this means or where we go from here.
When I emerge from the bathroom, Carl is helping Tish sit up in bed while Jake stretches like a satisfied cat beside her.
She looks beautiful in the morning light, her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed, wearing nothing but the sheet wrapped around her body.
“Morning,” she says softly, her eyes meeting mine with a mixture of shyness and something that might be regret.
“Morning,” I reply, my voice rougher than I intended.
The awkwardness is palpable as we all get dressed and ready for the day.
Nobody seems to know what to say or how to address what happened between us.
Jake, surprisingly, is the most subdued I’ve ever seen him. Usually, he’d be cracking jokes or making innuendos by now, but he’s unusually quiet as he pulls on his clothes.
Carl, ever the practical one, is the first to break the silence. “We should head to the lodge for breakfast. The staff will be expecting us.”
Tish nods, wrapping her robe tighter around herself. “I need to shower first. Give me fifteen minutes?”
We all agree, and I use the time to step outside and check on the snow situation.
Carl is right. We’re completely snowed in.
The drifts are at least three feet high, and it’s still coming down steadily.
We’re not going anywhere today, which means we’re all stuck here together to figure out whatever this is between us instead of practicing for the next game.
As I stand on the porch, breathing in the crisp winter air, my mind drifts to the other problem we’re facing.
Someone is stalking Tish, sending her threatening pictures, trying to destroy her reputation and possibly hurt her.
The thought makes my blood boil and my protective instincts kick into overdrive.
I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out who could be behind this.
The obvious suspect is Mica, her ex and Becky’s father. But he’s supposed to be in prison, serving a twelve-year sentence.
Could he have gotten out early?
Could he be orchestrating this from behind bars?
Tish insists she hasn’t dated anyone seriously since Mica, so it can’t be a jealous ex-boyfriend.
She’s been focused entirely on work and raising Becky, keeping to herself and avoiding romantic entanglements. Until now, anyway.
But how do I protect her from someone I can’t identify or locate? How do I keep her safe when I don’t even know what we’re up against?
I should call Trent. He needs to get his head out of his ass and focus on Tish’s safety. But he won’t listen to me, and I don’t regret loving her.
Despite the guilt, despite the moral conflict raging in my head, I don’t regret a single moment of last night.
The way Tish felt in my arms, the sounds she made, the way she looked at me like I was everything she’d ever wanted—it was worth every moment of the guilt and confusion I’m feeling now.
When Tish emerges from the cabin, freshly showered and dressed in jeans and a thick sweater, she takes my breath away.
Her hair is still damp, curling slightly at the ends, and her cheeks are pink from the hot water.
She looks young and beautiful and completely unaware of the effect she has on me.
“Ready?” she asks, and I nod, falling into step beside her as we make our way through the snow to the lodge.
The main dining room is warm and inviting, with a fire crackling in the massive stone fireplace and the smell of bacon and coffee filling the air.
Most of the team is already there, digging into plates of eggs, pancakes, and sausage. The staff has outdone themselves, as usual.
We find a table in the corner, and I can’t help but notice how the other guys look at Tish.
There’s something different in their expressions, a new awareness that makes my jaw clench. Do they know what happened? Can they tell?
Jake seems to sense my tension and leans over to whisper, “Relax, man. Nobody knows anything.”
But I’m not so sure. The way some of the guys are looking at her, the whispered conversations that stop when we approach. Something feels off.
Unless I really am being paranoid.
As we eat, the conversation inevitably turns to Tish’s stalker situation.
Carl thinks we should contact the police, while Jake suggests hiring a private investigator.
Tish, stubborn as always, is back to insisting that it might not even be about her personally.
“I still think it could still be someone trying to sabotage the team,” she argues, stabbing at her eggs with more force than necessary. She knows it’s not true, but it’s easier to deny. “The timing of everything, the way it’s affecting team morale …” She shrugs. “Maybe I’m just collateral damage.”
“Bullshit,” I say, my voice sharper than I intended. “This is personal, Tish. Someone is targeting you specifically, and we need to figure out who before they escalate.”
She looks at me with those dark blue eyes, and I see the fear she’s trying so hard to hide.
She’s scared, and she’s trying to downplay it to keep from worrying us. It makes me want to wrap her in my arms and promise that nothing will ever hurt her again.
But I can’t do that. Not here. Not in front of everyone. Not when I don’t even know what we are to each other now.
After breakfast, as the others head back to their cabins or settle in the lodge’s common area, I catch Tish’s arm gently.
“Can we talk? Privately?”
She nods, and we find a quiet corner near the windows overlooking the snow-covered mountains. For a moment, we just stand here, the weight of what we’ve done hanging between us like a physical presence.
“Ash, about last night,” she starts, but I cut her off.
“I don’t regret it,” I say firmly. “I need you to know that. Whatever you’re thinking, whatever doubts you’re having, I don’t regret a single moment of what happened between us.”
Her eyes widen slightly, and I see something that might be relief flicker across her face.
“But,” I continue, my heart pounding so hard I’m sure she can hear it, “I need you to know something else. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t share you.”