Chapter 9 #2
I leave the living room before my brain can keep going down that road. The bedroom still smells faintly like him. I stop beside the bed. My clothes are folded neatly where Ash left them. Of course they are.
A few minutes later I'm dressed. My own clothes feel wrong. Too tight and cold.
The white shirt Ash gave me last night lies on the bed taunting me with its comfort. I stare at it for another second before turning away.
Pathetic.
Large hands settle on my waist. I barely have time to react before I'm being pulled backward into solid warmth. Ash's chest presses against my back. His chin brushes my shoulder.
My pulse immediately betrays me.
“Leaving me again?” His voice is rough.
Sleepy.
Amused.
I stare straight ahead. “Yeah.”
His arms tighten slightly.
Not enough to stop me.
Just enough to make a point.
“I need to head home.”
A grunt rumbles against my shoulder. Pure disapproval.
I don't know why that makes me want to laugh. Ash's mouth brushes my neck. Soft. Brief. Just enough to send heat crawling beneath my skin.
Then he lets me go.
I turn around. Ash looks unfairly good.
Barefoot. Black sweatpants. Hair loose around his shoulders. Coffee mug in one hand. Like some kind of giant domestic cryptid.
I take the coffee from his hand and sip it. “This is good.”
“You love stealing my shit, huh?” He smirks, taking the coffee back. “You need a ride?”
I shake my head. “I'll call a taxi.”
His eyebrows pull together. His mouth flattens. Annoyed.
For a second I think he's going to argue. Tell me taxis are stupid. Instead, he takes a slow drink of coffee.
“Fine.” The word sounds personally offended.
I grin.
Ash narrows his eyes. “Don't start.”
“You're pouting.”
“I am not.”
“It's cute.”
“I'm thirty years old, I'm not cute.” The glare he gives me should probably be frightening.
It isn't.
Ash points toward the door. “Get out.”
“Make me.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
Silence.
Ash blinks.
I blink.
Then realization hits, and my face immediately heats.
Ash's smile appears slowly. Dangerously. “Oh?”
I point at him. “No.”
“Interesting choice of words, Hayes.”
My entire soul attempts to leave my body. Ash looks delighted.
I hate him.
I hate him so much.
“Goodbye, Ash.” I walk toward the front door before he can say anything else.
His laughter follows me. I make it all the way to the entrance. Hand on the doorknob. One foot practically outside. Then I stop. Because something feels unfinished.
I stare at the door. Then I swear under my breath. Turn around and walk back. Ash looks confused. Which is rare enough to be satisfying.
“What did you forget?”
I don't answer. I step into his space. His eyebrows lift and before I can think myself out of it, I grab the front of his sweatshirt and kiss him.
For one glorious second, Ash is genuinely caught off guard.
Completely frozen. Then his hand finds my waist. The coffee mug gets abandoned somewhere behind him.
His other hand slides into my hair. The kiss deepens.
Warm and certain. The kind that makes my thoughts disappear. The kind I'm starting to crave.
Eventually I pull back. Ash doesn't let me get very far. His forehead rests briefly against mine.
His eyes are darker now, focused entirely on me.
“Well.” His voice is rough. “Didn't see that coming.”
“Don't get used to it.”
A smile tugs at his mouth. Too confident. Too fucking pleased with himself.
“I'll text you later.”
Ash studies me for a second like he's deciding whether he believes me.
Then one hand lands lightly against my hip as I turn toward the door again. “Not later.”
I glance over my shoulder.
“You'll text me when you get home.”
The possessiveness in the statement should bother me. It doesn't. Maybe it should. Maybe there is something wrong with me. Ash's expression doesn't leave room for argument.
I stare at him.
Then shake my head. “You're ridiculous.”
“Text me.”
The corner of my mouth twitches. “Fine.”
“Good.”
I open the door, letting the morning air hit my face.
For the first time in a long time, walking back into my own life feels harder than it should.
And when the door closes behind me, I already know exactly what's going to happen.
I'm going to spend the entire ride home thinking about him. Which is dangerous because Ash Grant is starting to feel less like an escape. And more like something I don't want to lose.
The taxi ride home feels unreal. The city drifts past the window in a blur of traffic lights, coffee shops, and people going about their mornings.
A woman walks a golden retriever across an intersection.
A man balances two cardboard drink carriers while talking on his phone.
A couple stands outside a grocery store having what looks like a serious argument.
For once, I don't feel completely separated from them.
Most days it feels like there is a sheet of glass between me and the rest of the world. Life keeps moving forward while I watch from somewhere far away, disconnected from all of it. Today that distance feels smaller. The feeling follows me all the way into my apartment building.
I smile at Mrs. Donnelly when I pass her checking her mailbox in the lobby. She smiles back and asks how hockey is going. I answer without forcing it. The elevator ride to my floor is short. By the time I unlock my apartment door, I still feel strangely light.
I step inside and let the familiar quiet settle around me.
Usually the silence feels heavy. Today it doesn't. I kick off my shoes and head for my bedroom.
My clothes from last night end up in a pile on the floor while I change into a pair of sweatpants and an old Wizards hoodie.
The silver hoop earrings stay where they are.
I catch sight of myself in the mirror while pulling the sweatshirt over my head.
For a moment, I just stare.
The earrings still look unfamiliar. Not since before— I immediately look away. My phone vibrates on the nightstand. I already know who it is.
I grab the phone.
Ash: Home?
A laugh escapes before I can stop it.
Kai: Just got inside.
The typing bubble appears immediately.
Ash: Good.
Kai: You survived.
Ash: Barely.
Kai: Dramatic.
Ash: My bed is lonely.
Heat immediately climbs into my face. I stare at the screen. Ash somehow manages to be ridiculous even through text messages.
Kai: Why are you back in bed?
His answer comes almost instantly.
Ash: We have the day off.
Also I was the one doing all the work last night.
We can't all be pillow princes.
My entire face catches fire. “Oh my God.”
The words come out loud. I toss the phone onto the couch like it's personally offended me. The worst part is that he isn't even here. He's miles away and somehow still making me blush. I drop onto the couch and bury my face in my hands.
Pillow prince.
I hate him. Who does he think made me like that?