Chapter Twenty-Three
Ashlynn
I refused Quincy when he brought up dinner. Not only did it not look appealing, but I also didn’t have an appetite. I knew Quincy wasn’t my biggest fan, but it seemed as though he went to great lengths to make the food look as unappealing as possible. There was some kind of pudding, an odd type of bread with dates in it that was as hard as a rock, and a nearly rotten banana. I knew that Glinda hadn’t overseen this meal. I left it outside of my door, hoping he’d take the hint.
I showered and changed into my pajamas. Looking around the room, I wondered if I should pack some things so I would be ready when my father came to retrieve me. I had just grabbed my photo album when there was a knock at the door.
“Ashlynn?” Steele spoke hesitantly, as if he was second-guessing his actions.
I groaned, thinking about feigning sleep. I didn’t know how I was going to act like nothing was happening when my father could literally show up at any minute and rescue me. But I thought back to our conversation earlier, and how vulnerable he’d made himself. I walked over to the door and opened it.
He’d changed out of his tuxedo and was looking handsome in a dark pair of jeans and a t-shirt. His hair was messy, as if he’d been running his fingers through it, and he had a rather peculiar look on his face, almost as if he was on a tight rope walking between two tall buildings.
But he also had a bag of something that smelled suspiciously like French fries. I immediately moved back, allowing him to enter. He placed the bag down on the coffee table, and then helped himself to a seat on my couch.
The smell of greasy American food called to me. I moved closer to the couch, and he gave me a small smile, slightly mischievous, as if he was leaving breadcrumbs to get me closer to him. Suddenly I was ravenous. I wasn’t a big fast-food fan, but right now it was just what the doctor ordered.
I sat next to Steele as he unpacked the bag, setting a wrapped cheeseburger and a side of fries before me. I didn’t hesitate, not caring that I hadn’t even said a word to him. He watched me eat, that coy smile etched on his face. I saw his eyes drop slightly when I noticed his stare.
“Ashlynn, I’m sorry about tonight. I never meant to hurt you. If I had known the significance of that particular opera, I would have never taken you.”
I swallowed hard, the guilt returning. This was a peace offering because he thought he’d hurt my feelings. I quickly looked down, eyes on the food in front of me. Once again, I was no longer hungry.
“Ashlynn.” Again, just my name. Whenever he said it, it felt like he somehow had power over me. Whispering my name like that always seemed to ignite something within me.
“It’s okay,” I said, smoothing out my pajama shorts. “You couldn’t have known.”
He reached for my hand, holding it in his. “But I want to know. I want you to trust me. To open up to me. I want us to be—friends.”
Friends. Such an odd request coming from Steele. But it didn’t matter, it was only a matter of time before I was gone.
“Sure. Friends,” I agreed, trying to take back my hand. But then he lifted it to his mouth and looked me straight in the eye as he kissed the top of my hand. The movement sent fire tingling all the way down my body and I instantly felt the flush of red in my cheeks. Steele undoubtedly sensed it as well, because he opened up my hand and then pressed a tender kiss on the center of my palm.
I suppressed a moan, trying not to let it escape my throat. Instead, I was left with a throaty croak. He grabbed my other hand and scooted closer on the couch, and kissed my other palm. His eyes met mine, and I felt the steam rise between us. Steele reached out and stroked my hair, fiddling with a long piece that was still curled from my updo. I leaned into the touch, craving affection from him.
The rational part of me tried to reason with the lust running through me, but I couldn’t be denied. This might be my last chance to be with Steele, and I didn’t want to waste it. I wanted to feel him on top of me, enjoy the way he pressed me into the mattress and made me feel good everywhere. The other times we’d been together, he’d left me more than satisfied, which was a lot more than I could say for most of my previous boyfriends.
Hell. I was thinking of Steele as my boyfriend. Shit. I needed to shut this down, and fast. I couldn’t become attached; I couldn’t see him as a person. There was a good chance my father would kill him the second he spotted him.
Steele leaned in, touching his forehead with mine. He exhaled deeply, the passion so intense that it threatened to burn us both.
“Ash, just be with me.”