Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
The alarm on my phone blares, letting me know it’s ten in the morning.
I need to get my ass up and I’m in a mood.
I slept like shit last night. My mind was reeling from Karson’s threat to meet me here and then there being no sign of him.
Though, I’m pretty sure the door closing around four in the morning was most likely him and not Casper like I had originally thought.
It scared the hell out of me at first and left me feeling uneasy for hours; jumping at every rattle of the windows and click of the furnace turning on.
By the time it finally clicked in my brain that it was most likely Karson sneaking out, the sun was coming up and I couldn't fight sleep any longer.
Now I’m pissed. How the hell did he get in and when?
How often does he come in here and invade my safe space without me knowing?
Sitting up, I pull my knees into my chest and rake my hands through my hair to tame the strands.
I drop my head to my knees and let out a breath.
I’ve got to do something. I’m fucking tired of his presence, and now that I’m sure he’s completely crossed the line into my personal space.
I’m done.
I was doing fine before he fucking showed back up. Adjusted, dealing, perfectly fine. Then he shows back up and now everything’s fucked.
You were not fine.
Telling inner me to take a fucking hike, I shove the covers off of me and decide to get dressed.
I’m not going to let him ruin my day. I know I’ll have to deal with him tonight so I’ll stow my rage for later.
I’ve got a brunch date with Parker and Layla this morning, and I refuse to let this asshat ruin my excitement.
It’s been a while since we’ve had a girls day, and I desperately need it.
After I toss my work outfit and make up in my oversized tote purse, I throw on a pair of black leggings, a plain white tank top and a plum colored off-the-shoulder pullover.
Tossing my hair in a quick messy bun, I grab my phone off the nightstand and bag off the bed before running down the stairs.
Stopping at the refrigerator, I reach to open it for a bottle of water and pause.
My eyes dance over all the pictures, and my fingers run over the empty space.
I thought something looked different last night, but I didn't think too much of it and went to bed. But there’s definitely one missing, my favorite of them all.
My shoulders tense and I want to punch him in the jaw.
This just clears up any uncertainty I had just a few minutes ago–he was definitely here.
“You fucking prick,” I grit out, then rip the refrigerator open.
Snatching a bottle of water, I spot a bottle of unopened champagne and grab that too then stuff it into my bag.
Looks like we’re having mimosas for breakfast. I’m gonna need a drink or two before work tonight to keep me from throttling Karson when I see him.
I slam the fridge door, rattling the contents inside and the few odds and ends on top, before shoving my feet into a pair of white sneakers by the front door.
I lock it behind me and storm down to the lobby.
Pushing through the front door, I unlock my car before sliding into the seat.
Placing my bag in the passenger seat, I put on my sunglasses, fire up the engine and merge onto the street.
Y.S.K.W. by Catch Your Breath starts when I hit the first stoplight.
A smile pulls on my lips and I begin belting out the lyrics.
Today might turn around quicker than I thought.
I pull up to the front of the two-story cape, and see Layla’s Audi A4 already parked in the driveway.
Looking over, I see she’s still sitting in the front seat tapping away on her phone screen.
Grabbing my bag, I get out and she finally looks up.
She beams at me then gathers her things and a tray of coffees before stepping out of her car.
“Morning gorgeous! How are–” She stops and looks me up and down with furrowed brows. I hold my hand out in front of me and roll my eyes.
“Don’t…ask,” I tell her and she nods slightly, mouthing an okaaayy.
“You don’t have to wait for me, you know.
You can go knock on the door. Parker’s not going to bite.
” Her eyebrows raise at that then she lets out a disbelieving laugh.
They met this past Thanksgiving. Parker and Maverick hosted dinner and I invited Layla.
Everyone had a great time and was very welcoming to her, but she’s still not used to them; and she’s told me Parker intimidates her.
I can understand why. Parker’s a people watcher and it takes her a long time to warm up to someone new.
She can come off kind of cold, but she likes Layla.
“Are you sure about that? Pretty sure she hates me.” Her fingers twist together and she looks down at her shoes, then back up at me with a shy smile.
“She doesn't, I promise. Come on, let’s get inside.” I nod toward the porch and we both walk up.
Opening the front door like I live here, we walk into the entryway, quickly bombarded by Bane and Talia–Parker’s dogs.
Layla freezes, and I drop my bag on the floor and squat down to greet my four-legged best friends.
They lick my face and Parker comes into view.
“Hier,” she commands firmly in Dutch. Both dogs return to her side. She scratches their heads, then her gaze lands on Layla and I.
“Hey, come on in. I made french toast casserole.” She smiles and her eyes land on the coffee tray in Layla’s hands. “Oh you’re the best,” she says gratefully and steps forward, offering to take the tray. Layla shoots a glance at me, I smile and give her a wink.
“And I brought the rest of breakfast,” I announce, pulling the bottle of champagne from my bag. Parker's eyes narrow on me.
“Day drinking before work? What’s wrong?” I can tell she’s about to interrogate me and I glare back at her.
“It pairs well with your strawberry french toast casserole.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her before I push my way deeper into the house.
She rolls her eyes as I pass by her, the two of them following me into the dining room.
I make quick work of removing the gold foiling from the neck of the bottle, twisting the wire and popping the cork as Parker comes in with a glass for me and a glass pitcher of orange juice.
She places the coffees on the table. I pour myself a drink and flop down into a chair.
“I’m going to use the bathroom really quickly. I’ll be right back,” Layla says softly.
Parker watches her disappear down the hallway, then quickly drops into the seat next to me and I groan to myself. I love her, but I hate how perceptive she is sometimes.
“Now tell me. What’s wrong?” she asks. Her soft amber gaze searches my face.
“Your husband's friend. That’s what’s wrong,” I say, my tone clipped. Chugging my mimosa in one go, I start to make another and she softly chuckles.
“Karson is not that bad, Ash. Yes, he’s a royal pain in the ass, but I really think if you just gave him a chance…” She trails off and shrugs. “He might surprise you.” My lip curls in disgust at the fact that he’s clearly sunken his claws into her somehow, and I groan.
“Something tells me you’re wrong, my love,” I tell her and down my second drink. Damn him. I look back at her and smile.
She has no idea who he truly is or about mine and Karson’s history, and I’d like to keep it that way.
Now I can see that I’m going to have to deal with this on my own.
Due to the fact that he’s her husband's best friend, they’ve become friends.
I can't bring myself to even vent to her about how much I can't stand him.
I don't want to make her feel like she's stuck in the middle of something that has nothing to do with her.
Layla comes back and sits down, then the three of us dig into our brunch.
We spend the morning into the early afternoon eating, laughing, and having the best time.
The anger I felt earlier dissipates. I feel lighter, more relaxed.
I watch my two friends laugh and get to know each other better.
Layla starts to be visibly more comfortable and it makes me so happy.
My phone buzzing on the table grabs my attention. I spot the name on the screen and I envision smashing my phone into tiny pieces.
Good mood gone.
Terrorist
You’re not going into work tonight.
Who the fuck does he think he is?
Me
Excuse the fuck out of me? Yes I am.
Terrorist
This is not up for debate, Ashlynn. You’re not going into work.
Me
How about, go fuck yourself.
Terrorist
I’m not in the mood but thanks. I mean it, call out.
I lock my screen and flip my phone over, then stand from the table. Walking back to the front door, I pick up my bag, then go back into the dining room to get my coffee off the table.
“Oh don't tell me you're leaving already?” Parker asks.
“No not yet. But I do need to get ready for work. I’m going to use the guest room. Be right back.” I smile and bend down to kiss her cheek before giving her and Layla my back to head upstairs.
Tonight’s going to be fun.