Chapter 13 #2
I set the mug down and head toward the bedroom. Practice starts soon. Noah will be there. Everyone will be watching. My stomach twists at the thought, but I keep walking anyway. Because that's what I do. I get dressed. I show up. I pretend being alive is the same thing as being okay.
The sound of running water reaches me almost immediately. I stop. Ash.
A wave of relief washes through me so quickly that my knees almost feel weak. He didn't hear us. The shower had been running the entire time.
Thank God.
I quietly walk toward my bedroom.
The bathroom door is cracked open, warm steam spilling into the room in soft clouds.
Through the fogged glass of the shower enclosure, I can just make out Ash's silhouette.
Water runs down his broad shoulders as he rinses shampoo from his hair, completely unaware that I've stopped in the doorway.
I watch as the soap slides down his crafted muscles and past his hips.
I stand there for another second. Maybe two, biting my lip. I'm not even sure why. There's something calming about watching him exist so comfortably in my space. Ash belongs anywhere he stands.
“You know,” he says over the sound of the shower, “staring is generally considered rude, pillow prince.”
I jump. “What?”
A laugh answers me. “You've been standing there for at least thirty seconds.”
My face immediately catches fire. “I wasn't—”
“Weren't you?”
“I…”
“Don't lie, baby.”
I groan. “I wasn't watching you.”
“Sure.”
“I wasn't.”
The shower turns off. “You've got terrible timing for lying.”
The glass door opens just enough for one amused brown eye to appear through the steam. “You little pervert.”
“Oh my God.” I immediately look toward the ceiling.
His laughter fills the bathroom.
Unfortunately, it's contagious. I catch myself smiling despite the embarrassment.
A second later I hear the shower door slide fully open. Without looking, I reach for the clean towel hanging beside the sink and hold it in his general direction.
“I'm not looking.”
“I noticed.” His fingers brush mine as he takes the towel.
“I respect your privacy.”
“Mhm.”
I keep my eyes fixed firmly on the opposite wall. A moment later warm lips press briefly against my shoulder. The kiss is quick. Playful. Gone almost before I register it.
I glance over instinctively.
Ash is already drying his hair with the towel, completely unconcerned.
“What was that for?”
“You looked cute.”
“I wasn't doing anything.”
“You were blushing. That was enough.”
I roll my eyes.
“You have a very broad definition of cute.”
“I have excellent taste.” He disappears into my bedroom, still rubbing the towel through his long black hair.
I follow a few seconds later, admiring his ass as he strides to the bed.
“Get dressed.”
I blink, my attention pulling to his face.
“I am.”
He pulls on his jeans. “Not for hockey. We're going out.”
I frown. “What about practice?”
“We're skipping it.”
The sentence lands so casually I actually laugh. “No.”
“No?”
“We can't skip practice.”
“We can.”
“We absolutely cannot.”
Ash pulls his shirt the rest of the way down before turning toward me. “Watch me.”
“Ash, we have a game this weekend.”
Ash is looking for his hair tie that he abandoned somewhere on my nightstand last night. “I know.”
“On Friday.”
“I am aware of our schedule, sweetheart.” Ash ties back his hair, keeping his eyes on me.
“I need practice.” The words catch unexpectedly.
I look toward the floor. “I need to…”
Ash waits.
“…play with…”
The name refuses to come. My throat feels too tight.
“I need to play with…” I squeeze my eyes shut.
Ash's expression softens almost imperceptibly, but he doesn't interrupt.
“…Noah.” The word finally escapes.
I hate how relieved I feel just for saying it. “I need to play with Noah before our game.”
Ash remains completely still.
“I need to figure out how he skates.”
Still nothing.
“I need to understand his habits and tendencies and how he—”
“Kai.”
I stop talking.
Ash levels a steady look at me. “Are you done?”
“No.”
One eyebrow rises.
“I don't think I am. I just think—”
“I know.”
He takes two slow steps toward me. “I've listened to every argument you've made.”
“I'm right.”
“You've made some reasonable points.”
Hope flickers.
Then he smiles. “You're also talking back.”
My stomach does an embarrassing little flip. “Ash…”
“I believe you've earned yourself a punishment.” The words are calm.
Matter-of-fact.
Not angry.
Not threatening.
Just certain.
“Do you want another one?” Ash smiles.
Every instinct I have immediately decides further debate is an awful idea.
I close my mouth.
“That's what I thought.” He nods once, clearly satisfied. “Now you're being sensible.”
I cross my arms. “I'm pouting.”
“I can see that.”
“You should feel guilty.”
“I don't.”
I try glaring.
It lasts approximately three seconds before he starts smiling. “It's too late to start acting cute now.”
He reaches for his phone sitting on my dresser and holds it up. “I already texted Coach.”
I blink. “What?”
“He knows you're taking a personal day.”
I stare. “He…what?”
“He said to take care of yourself.”
I don't know what surprises me more. That Ash texted Coach. Or that Coach apparently agreed.
“You didn't ask me.”
“I didn't need to.”
I sit down heavily on the edge of my bed. My gaze drops to the floor. For a while I simply study my socks against the hardwood.
“I'm making everyone's life difficult.”
Ash doesn't answer immediately. When I look up, he's kneeling in front of me. His damp hair hangs loose around his face, and he looks far softer than the intimidating defenseman everyone else sees.
He reaches out and gently rests both hands on my knees. “No.”
“I keep—”
“Kai.”
I finally meet his eyes.
“You are allowed to need a day.” His voice is quiet. “So is Noah.”
The statement catches me off guard. Ash continues. “Both things can be true.”
I don't know what to say to that.
Because somewhere deep down, I know he's right.
He smiles faintly. “So.”
“So?”
“We're going to leave this apartment.”
I narrow my eyes. “Against my will?”
“Absolutely.”
“You’re kidnapping me.”
“I'm calling it an outing. It'll be fun.”
I can't help smiling. Just a little. Ash notices immediately.
My smile grows despite myself.
“I still don't know about this punishment,” I tease.
“You'll survive.”
“That's reassuring.”
“It isn't supposed to be.”
I laugh quietly. The sound surprises both of us.
Ash leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. “No hockey today.”
“No hockey,” I repeat.
“No Noah. Just today.”
I exhale slowly.
The knot in my stomach loosens a fraction. “Just today,” I agree.
Ash stands and offers me his hand. “Come on, prince.”
I slip my fingers into his. He pulls me easily to my feet. I still have no idea what he has planned.
Part of me is genuinely curious. Another part keeps wondering what exactly he means by punishment.
Judging by the amused look on his face, he has no intention of telling me. Not yet.
And somehow, despite everything that happened yesterday, despite Noah, despite the approaching game and the storm still hanging over my life… I find myself looking forward to finding out.
I spend the entire drive trying to guess what Ash means by fun.
My first theory is that he's taking me to a museum. He seems like the kind of person who would unexpectedly know everything about dinosaurs.
My second theory is that he's dragging me somewhere outdoors simply because he enjoys watching me complain.
My third theory is that this is all an elaborate setup for whatever punishment he's been quietly threatening me with for the last hour.
None of those theories survive when he pulls into the parking lot of what might be the ugliest restaurant I've ever seen.
“Really?” I ask as I stare through the windshield. The sign flickers despite it being broad daylight. Half the neon letters are burned out. The building itself looks like it survived several decades entirely through spite.
Ash shuts off the truck.
“What?”
“This place looks condemned.”
“It has the best breakfast in the city.”
“It looks like the health inspector cries every time he drives past.”
Ash grins. “You're being judgmental.”
“I'm being observant.”
“It's fantastic.”
“The windows are different colors.”
“They build character.”
“I think they build lawsuits.”
Ash laughs as he climbs out of the truck. I stay seated for another second, studying the restaurant like it might collapse before we reach the front door.
“You coming?”
“I haven't decided.”
“You don't have a choice.”
“I thought this wasn't a kidnapping.”
“It evolved.”
I sigh dramatically before climbing out after him.
The little bell above the door jingles as we step inside.
The place somehow manages to look even worse on the inside.
The booths have been patched with mismatched strips of vinyl.
The checkerboard floor has long since faded into several different shades of gray.
An ancient jukebox sits in the corner beside a claw machine that almost certainly hasn't worked since the early two-thousands.
It smells incredible.
Bacon.
Butter.
Fresh coffee.
Maple syrup.
Every surface carries the comforting scent of breakfast that's been cooked here every morning for the last fifty years.
A waitress appears almost immediately. She's probably around our age, with dark hair pulled into a ponytail and a bright smile that somehow makes the entire diner feel warmer.
“Table for two?”
Ash nods.
She grabs two menus before leading us toward a booth near the window. I slide in first. Ash takes the opposite side. The waitress hands us our menus.
“What can I get you boys to drink?”
“Coffee,” Ash says.
She turns to me. “And for you?”
“Coffee's good.”
“Coming right up.”
She smiles at me. I smile back automatically. “Thank you.”
She lingers for just a second before she says, “You're new.”
“Oh.” I glance around. “I've never been here before.”
“I would've remembered you.”
I blink. “That's…nice?”
Her smile widens. “It is.” Then she finally walks away toward the kitchen. I watch her disappear then realize Ash is staring at me.
“What?”
“You really don't know.”
“Know what?”