Chapter Fifteen
Mason
“Mind if I grab a drink?” Mason shut the lid on the barely touched pizza and stacked Ashlyn’s greasy plate on top of his own. Neither of them had had much of an appetite.
“There’s water in the sink,” Ashlyn called over her shoulder as he made his way into the kitchen and Mason had to shut his eyes to keep from rolling them at her.
Turned out she wasn’t being a smartass. The fridge contained zero beverages, but it did have . . . Mason shook his head and crouched to examine the contents more closely. Ketchup, mustard, mayo, sandwich meat, jelly, and a shelf lined entirely with soup cans. The girl kept canned soup in her fridge. Did she even know how to make soup?
The cabinet over the microwave held a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread where her snack supply usually reigned supreme. The change in temperature, change in diet . . . Mason turned, paying closer attention to the stack of mail on the counter. Envelopes stamped with ‘Overdue’ and ‘Final notice’ piled on top of one another.
Opening someone else’s mail was a federal offense, but that didn’t stop him from sliding his finger under the flap of the first envelope and slipping out the folded paper inside. Gas bill, a month overdue. And where her father’s name usually appeared, he read Ashlyn Mills.
“What are you doing?” Ashlyn stood near the sink, hands planted on her hips. She was wearing a hoodie over another shirt and from what he could tell at least two pairs of leggings under her sweats.
Yeah, sure, not that cold at all. “What the hell is going on?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me? I said the water’s in the sink, not the mail.”
Any embarrassment he might have felt at being caught snooping was outweighed by concern when he took a closer look and realized her face looked thinner. If she hadn’t been wearing so many clothes, he might have noticed the weight loss sooner.
“Have you been eating?”
Ashlyn folded her arms, creating a barrier between them, and her eyes became shuttered. Something he’d seen her do around other people plenty of times, but not him. Not for years. “What?”
“Food, Ash.” Irritation spiked. She could try and distance herself as much as she wanted. He wasn’t fooling around about this. “Have you been eating?”
“Of course I’ve been eating.” She dismissed his concern with an exasperated huff which only served to piss him off further.
“Canned soup and sandwiches?”
The shield slipped and Ashlyn’s eyes sparked. “Again . . . the water is in the sink, Mason.”
“Cut the crap, Ash. What’s with the temperature control? Why are your bills piling up?” He stomped on the foot pedal for the garbage can and dumped the paper plates inside. “Why is your trash not overflowing with takeout containers?”
“Wow.” Ashlyn took a step back and if looks could kill . . . “Way to overstay a welcome. Thanks for the pizza. Now get out.”
“No.” Mason widened his stance. She couldn’t forcibly remove him and he wasn’t leaving any other way. Not until he got some answers.
“You can’t say no, this is my house.”
“Watch me.” He paused and then slowly mouthed the word ‘no’.
Thunder cracked and a flash of lightening brightened the kitchen window. The lights flickered. In the living room the TV cut to static, but they both ignored it.
“Mason, get the hell out of my house right now before I—”
“Not until you tell me what’s going on. Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“No. Christ.” Snapping the page from his fingers she threw it down on the counter. “I’m sure your ego could use a good coating of armor, but I’m not some damsel in distress needing you to ride in to her rescue. I can handle my own shit.”
Now they were getting somewhere. “What shit?”
“Mason,” Ashlyn roared, slamming her hands down on the countertop.
“You want me gone? Then tell me what shit you’ve gotten yourself into.” He wasn’t stubborn by nature, but he’d learned that with Ashlyn sometimes it was the only thing that worked. “I’m not leaving until you do, so you might as well start talking.”
Her outburst seemed to drain the last of her energy. Ashlyn’s shoulder slumped, her chin dropped, and she sighed. She looked flat-out exhausted. Mason’s frustration took a back seat as he closed the distance between them.
“Ash . . .” Her shoulder felt small beneath his hand. “Talk to me.”
She gnawed on her lower lip while he waited patiently.
“My mom called a few weeks ago.” She spoke directly to her fuzzy snowman socks. “She found out I didn’t withdraw from the trial.”
They both knew it was only a matter of time and yet Mason’s heart still sank. “What did she say?”
Ashlyn’s eyes went unfocused and a barrage of emotions played across her face as she undoubtedly relived the conversation. “She . . . she cut me off.”
“Cut you off?”
Her head snapped up. “You think I can afford this place on my own? The mortgage? The bills? I can hardly keep up with the repairs on that stupid car.”
“ . . . Shit.” There really was no other response.
“Yeah.” Her gaze darted around the room as though she was searching for a hidden answer within the walls. When she didn’t find one, she turned to him. “What am I gonna do? I can’t stay here. I can’t go home. I have nowhere else—”
“Hold on.” The wheels in Mason’s head were turning, rooting out potential problems with the most obvious solution. There were a few, but the benefits outweighed them so heavily, it was a no-brainer. “Why don’t I just move in here?”
“I—” She choked on her own words and then gaped at him. “What?”
“It makes sense. You need a roommate to cut expenses and I’ve been saving up to move out only I can’t afford anything on my own.”
“This isn’t some pity party.” She knocked his hand away from her shoulder. “I’m not a goddamn charity case and I sure as hell don’t need your money.”
Frustration swelled. “What part of that sounded like pity or charity? We can help each other out.”
“Right. You just happened to be planning to move out right when my mother decides to cut me off financially. How convenient.”
The girl was impossible. “I’ve been planning to move out ever since I found that threat in my driveway. My parent’s driveway, Ash. That asshole may not have gotten as close to me as he did to you, but he got too damn close to my family. They have nothing to do with this. If something happened . . .” He swallowed the thought. Hard. “I’m not letting them get dragged into this.”
Sharp blue eyes narrowed on his face, searching for any hint of deceit. Mason had nothing to hide.
“You want to move out to keep your parents safe?” It was a question she already knew the answer to.
“Yes. And I’d like to do it sooner than later, but I make about as much as you working at the Pizza Palace and as you’ve already pointed out, it’s not enough to pay for shit.”
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Her hands flipped over, baring her palms. “You could have stayed here. I have an extra room.”
A single brow crept up Mason’s forehead. “Who’s the charity case now?”
She got that obstinate look in her eye Mason knew all too well. “It’s not the same thing.”
“The hell it’s not. You want to help me, I want to help you. So what’s the problem?”
Ashlyn always got this little line right above her nose whenever she concentrated. It was the cutest damn thing he’d ever seen. The tip of her pink tongue darted out, wetting her lower lip. “Let’s do it. You keep your family out of the way, we’ll watch each other’s backs—just in case—and we’ll split the costs fifty-fifty. Deal?”
Mason had to work hard to lock down the triumphant grin threatening to break free. Pressing his lips into a firm line, he nodded. “Deal.”