Chapter Ten
Loralei
"How did you find this place?" I ask Ash, spinning in a circle in a small meadow a mile or two from his cabin.
Everywhere I look, wildflowers grow in riotous clumps, turning the entire meadow into a shock of bright color.
With the trees looming on either side and the sky directly ahead, it feels a little magical.
"Went for a run while you were at work yesterday," he grunts, spreading out a blanket in the very center of the clearing before placing a basket on top of it.
"Gross." My nose scrunches.
He glances at me over his shoulder, a question in his eyes.
"Running," I say, still grimacing. "Last time I did that, it wasn't by choice."
His lips curve into an amused grin. "You were forced to run?"
"Yes. Cujo's baby brother got loose. He chased me through an alley, trying to eat me," I explain, settling onto the edge of the blanket. "I felt like Pumba, running through town, screaming for my life."
Ash's loud laughter booms across the clearing. "Cujo's baby brother?"
"A chihuahua. Trust me, he was more vicious than he sounds," I mutter primly.
"Oh, I believe you." He lowers himself to the ground beside me, reclining back on his hands, his legs extended in front of him. "Jett has a chihuahua. That little fucker hates everyone except his daughter."
I laugh because I can believe it. "Olive has one, too.
Well, I think hers is a yorkie or a chorkie, or whichever is part chihuahua.
She named him Oscar because she found him in a garbage can and he's a grump.
He doesn't like anyone except her." I pause, thinking about it.
"Well, I guess he likes her hot neighbor and his parrot. "
"Her hot neighbor?" Ash quirks a brow, a hint of jealousy flashing in his gaze.
"Um, Mason. We didn't know his name at first, so we just called him her hot neighbor," I say with a shrug. "I guess the name stuck. They're basically living together now."
"You still think he's hot?"
"You're hotter."
His eyes heat, his expression downright feral. "Right answer, baby," he practically purrs, pushing himself up to his knees to prowl toward me across the blanket. He stops when he's inches from me, his face blotting out everything. "Don't think I like you talking about other men."
"I'll make you a deal," I whisper breathlessly. "You never mention any of the supermodels you've dated, and I'll never talk about hot men."
"Fuck supermodels, Loralei," he says, hooking an arm around my waist to drag me closer.
"There is no competition, and you shouldn't believe ninety percent of what you read.
Most of the time when I'm photographed with someone, it's for PR, or it's fabricated bullshit.
The only one I want is right here in front of me. "
My stomach clenches before bottoming out, mostly because the way he looks at me when he says it makes it clear he isn't lying. As far as he's concerned, I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. I think I could die happy knowing that.
He kisses me hard on the mouth, not letting up until my hands are in his hair and both of us are panting for breath and his beard has chafed my skin. And then he leans back, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
"Bet you aren't thinking about other men now, are you?"
I roll my eyes at him. "You are such a guy, Ash."
He shrugs, unrepentant, and then starts emptying the basket onto the blanket. I watch him for a long moment, trying to work up the nerve to ask him an important question. I've been trying to do it for the last week straight, but I keep finding excuses to avoid the subject.
Everything has been good between us.
Every night, he's been at my place, or I've been at his.
I spend every day at work with my head in the clouds.
I know Lilah and Jazz have noticed. But they aren't really asking many questions.
I think that's mostly because Jazz is preoccupied with stalking River, and Lilah is preoccupied with worrying about Jazz stalking River.
As expected, jail was involved. Unexpectedly, I think River might be a little obsessed with her.
"Can I ask you a question?" I finally blurt, before I lose my nerve.
"You can ask me anything," Ash says, the same way he usually does.
"I…" I hesitate and then huff out a breath. "I have a thing on Monday. It's a gala meant to raise money for a big literacy program in the county. Since I'm the head librarian and they do a lot at our branch, I'm expected to attend. Um…would you…?"
"You want me to go with you?" he asks.
I nod, grateful I didn't have to ask.
"I don't think that's a good idea, beautiful," he says, his voice soft.
"Oh." I duck my head, staring at the checkered blanket at my feet. "Of course. You're right," I hear myself say. Except, it doesn't sound like my voice. Maybe that's just the lump in my throat or the sting of rejection burning in my stomach. I don't know.
But that feeling from last week, the one screaming that he's going to break my heart, is suddenly back. Does he not want to be seen with me? Is that why we're out here today? Not because he wanted to show me this place, but because he wanted to keep me as far from other people as possible?
Part of me automatically rejects the idea as impossible. Ash wouldn't do that. But another part, the same part terrified he's going to break my heart, isn't nearly as certain about that.
In all the time he's been here, he's never hinted that he wants to make whatever this is between us public. He's never asked to take me anywhere. The few times he's come to the library to see me, it's been in full disguise.
Maybe I was na?ve in assuming that was for his own privacy. Maybe the truth is a little bit sadder than that. I was never meant to be part of his plans. We're just…what? An interlude? A way to pass the time until he's ready to face his real life again? I don't know, but I feel like an idiot.
Even knowing he might break my heart, I let myself fall for him.
Even knowing this would probably end in devastation, I kept going.
And I feel so stupid for not seeing what was right in front of me the entire time.
I was never going to fit into his life, not when he's made every effort to ensure no one even knew I was a part of it.
"Hey." He inches across the blanket toward me, grabbing both of my hands. "No one even knows I'm in town, baby. If I show up at a gala on your arm, the whole event is going to turn into a shitshow. I don't want to make something that should be about the library into a circus surrounding me."
"I…" I study his face, wondering if he means it. And I hate myself a little for doubting it, for doubting him. But maybe that's the cost of hiding. It feels fun and exciting until you realize there's all this fine print you never meant to sign up for.
"I'd go if I could," he says.
"It's fine, Ash," I finally whisper, but it's not okay. Somewhere over the last couple of weeks, I fell in love with him, not with the rockstar I had a crush on, but with the man I've gotten to know.
And I think I just realized that there is no separating the man from the rockstar, not really.
We're back at the cabin before he stops me with a hand on my arm. "What time is the gala on Monday?"
"What?" I blink at him.
"What time is the gala?" he repeats.
"Ash…"
"What time, Loralei?"
"You don't have to go," I whisper, shaking my head. I feel a little like I might cry, which is stupid. We never put labels on this. He never promised me anything. "I shouldn't have asked."
"Don't," he says, pinning me against the side of my rental. His face is stark, emotion bubbling in his eyes. "Don't do that."
"I'm not doing anything," I lie. "I'm just trying to go before I'm late. I have Book Club this afternoon, remember?" By some miracle, Jazz actually convinced River to speak. I don't know how. I assume by sleeping with him, but that's not my business, so I'm not asking.
"Fuck Book Club," Ash growls, pressing his body up against mine. His lips come down on the side of my throat in a punishing bite. "I'm not letting you leave here, thinking I don't want to be seen with you."
"I don't think that."
"Liar."
"Maybe I'm just realizing that we're from two different worlds, that's all."
"Fuck that," he grunts, biting me again. "If you want me to go to the gala with you, I'll go. I'll go anywhere you want me to go, anytime you want me to go."
"That's not necessary, Ash. You don't owe me any—"
"It's not about owing you, beautiful. I want to go." He tips his head back, meeting my gaze. "Do I need to fuck the attitude out of you, or are you going to tell me what time the gala is?"
"I don't have an attitude."
His lips quirk into a soft grin. "Yeah, you do. I hurt your feelings, and you're doing your damnedest to hide it behind that cute fucking attitude. But all you're really doing is making my cock hard. So, are you going to tell me, or am I bending you over the hood?"
"You can't just use sex to get whatever you want, Ash."
"Yeah? Is that what you think?"
"Don't you dare," I hiss, but I might as well be waving a flag in front of a bull. The wicked gleam in his eye says plainly that he is going to dare. So does the way he spins me around like I'm his ragdoll, caging me against the side of my car.
I want to fight him. I want to be mad at him, and hurt. I want to storm away and lick my wounds and get my head together. But I also want him so badly, I could scream. And I'm mad as hell that he knows it. He always knows it.
"You're so fucking cute when you're pissed, Loralei," he breathes, his lips at my ear as he shoves his hand into my pants, ripping them down my legs. Cool air washes across my sensitive skin, and then his palm is there, grinding against my center like he owns it.
"You're an asshole," I moan.