20. Ashton #2
“Like, like me, like me?”
“Yes!” He leans in, his forehead almost touching mine as he whispers slowly, “I really, really like you, Ashton.”
“I kind of like you, too,” I whisper back.
His smile tilts. “Kind of, huh?”
“Yeah.”
He purses his lips. “There’s just one problem. Part of the terms of our contract is that we remain a public couple until three weeks after the premiere of our final season of Malibu Shores .”
“Okay.” I nod, not quite understanding what he’s saying.
His thumbs rub the back of my hands. “I’ve wanted out for a while now, especially since I’ve noticed Scarlet’s feelings toward me may be genuine.”
“Oh, they are.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He rakes his fingers through his hair.
“But I’m trapped. If I break the contract, I’ll lose my starring role in the movie.
And it’s good, Ash. It’s really good. It’ll jumpstart my career into film and I won’t be forced to take roles in any lame teeny-bopper shows anymore. ”
Did he just call me Ash?
“Can you talk to Scarlet and tell her how you feel? Maybe it’s still a publicity stunt, but what’s between the two of you can be honest.”
“I’ve been meaning to. I just haven’t found the right time or the right words.”
“Trust me, there’s never a right time to break someone’s heart.”
He shoots up to stand. “I know. I just can’t screw things up with her. If I hurt her, it could impact Wesley’s opinion of me and ruin my chances of being in his film.”
“Won’t there be other film opportunities?”
“Yes, but there’s no guarantee. I may have had a solid career in television, but breaking into film is another ballgame.” He studies my face and sits next to me. He grabs my hand and weaves my fingers through his. “But that’s not the point. The point is, I don’t have feelings for her. Only you.”
Only me.
He isn’t with Scarlet.
My brain shouts it again. HE ISN’T WITH SCARLET!
“What does that mean? For us?”
His smile widens. “For us? I like the sound of that.”
I smack him with my free hand.
He clutches it and holds it to his chest. “It means in the world’s eyes, I’m dating Scarlet, but in here—" he squeezes my hand over his heart—“I want to be with you.”
I’m like hot lava, melting to the floor.
“The premiere is in four weeks. Three weeks after that, I’ll have met the terms of my contract. But until then, I have to continue to be seen with Scarlet publicly.”
“So maybe in a couple months we can, what? Be seen with each other? Date?”
“I would love nothing more than to take you on a proper date. But for now, we can only be together in private.”
My skin prickles, and Tanner pops into my mind. He used to tell me relationships were hotter in secret. And I stupidly believed him.
I will be no one’s dirty secret.
Should I demand he tell Scarlet about us? But what even is us ? We barely know each other. We’ve had a couple of training sessions. Exchanged some texts. And happened to accidentally fall asleep together. Big whoop.
Okay, the last one is a semi-big deal.
Barking comes from the living room.
Teddy sits up, his ears perking.
“Oh my gosh, the puppies! I completely forgot. They need outside.” I gasp. “What time is it? I have work!”
He looks at a clock I hadn’t noticed on the bedside table. “It’s seven a.m.”
“I’ve got to go!”
He stands, holding down my shoulders, preventing me from getting off the bed. “You’re in no condition to go to work. You can barely walk. You’ll have to call in sick.”
I groan. I hate missing work; the shelter is already so short-staffed.
“If you’re worried about missing the income, we can prop your leg up in a chair, and you can teach Roxy and me lessons while sitting. She and I have already made tremendous progress if I say so myself. We’re quick learners.” His grin stretches wide.
The pride in himself and Roxy is adorable. I’m proud of their strides together, too.
“Besides, we have a party in two days to get ready for.”
“We?”
“Yes, we. I can’t very well attend a dog party without my dog and her trainer.”
“What will Scarlet say?”
“She invited you, didn’t she?”
“Yes, but?—”
“Then, there you go. And she made a good point, it’ll provide some great connections for you. I bet we could get a huge jumpstart on funding your rescue by the end of the night.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“Absolutely. I’ve got some ideas. But first, you call in sick for a couple of days.
I’ll go take care of the dogs. Then, I’ll be back with some breakfast. What do you like to eat?
Toast? Scrambled eggs? Cereal? Quiche?” He’s walking backward toward the door.
“You know what? Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. You make the phone call.”
“Griff—”
But he’s already out the door, closing it behind him. “Call work!”
I laugh at his bossiness until I pull my phone from my back pocket and find a missed call from my landlord.
Oh crap. I’d completely forgotten about my disastrous apartment. Maybe Miguel called with some good news.
I swipe it open and click on the voice message.
“Ashton, this is Miguel. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but the mold specialists investigated the problem some more. It’s bad. Real bad. We need everyone to get their essentials out by today. The apartment needs to be vacated in forty-eight hours. Call me if you have any questions.”
My stomach plummets, and I flop backward onto the bed.
I’m officially homeless.