CHAPTER 17: SNOW
“Last night rocked—for the most part.”
My breath came hard as I pushed through those last 100 crunches. I’d already done 25 lifts per leg, 20 pushups, three minutes of plank, my daily wake-up routine nearly complete.
“I mean, what happened to Ash’s house sucked, but the party was freakin’ awesome. It was so cool, Bruce. You should’ve seen Min’s face. She was so surprised.”
Party cleanup had taken forever. I’d crashed right when I got home, so I hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to him until now. But, as usual, Bruce was the perfect listener.
“Bae Bae’s face was priceless,” I went on. I could still picture him colliding into Koi, kinda like an unintentional chest bump/full-body hug. It hadn’t been pretty. “Seriously, he dances worse than me. Do you know he was worried Min wouldn’t like it? I mean, it’s got the two things she loves best: romance and drama. Of course, she loved it. And Koi nearly took my head off, but whatever. At least I didn’t fall on my ass.”
Bruce stared back.
“What?” I said, rolling to my feet, hopping up onto the bed.
His fierce gaze seemed to say: Isn’t there something you’re not telling me?
“Everyone had a great time. There was dancing and singing and…”
And?
I rolled my eyes. “Well, there was this…almost kiss.”
It was impossible, but I could’ve sworn the poster’s lips twitched.
“But it was no big deal,” I said quickly. Bruce looked like he didn’t believe me—or maybe I was the one who didn’t believe me. My dreams last night had been full of one thing: a boy with blond hair, green eyes, and a mouth that drove me crazy. “Anyway, Ash—you know, the guy I told you about?—well, he was at the engagement party. And he…sang to me.”
Bruce waited.
“It should’ve been lame. It really should’ve. His voice was pretty terrible—almost as bad as mine. He looked like he was about to puke the entire time, but…it was actually the un-lamest thing I’ve ever seen.” I sighed, couldn’t help it. The sound just escaped, and I knew Bruce would never tell anyone. “Bruce, it was amazing. Ash sang to me, and then he asked me to dance, and he would’ve kissed me if his bodyguard hadn’t interrupted.”
And thank God he had, I thought. I’d never been so happy to see Agent Smith. If Ash had kissed me there—in the middle of the dance floor at Min-Hee’s engagement party—with Bae Bae and the guys and my mom watching? I shuddered. Yeah, I would’ve never heard the end of it.
“Part of me’s glad,” I said, plucking at a loose sting on my pants. “But the other part…”
The other part was needy and frustrated and had me aching all over. Just the thought of Ash’s lips—I shook my head, trying to snap out of it. Come on, Snow. Bruce wouldn’t let a little almost kiss get to him. No way. Bruce would be badass about it, like he was about everything.
“Well, anyway, we didn’t kiss,” I said like I didn’t care. “It’s probably for the best, all things considered.”
“I strongly disagree.”
My head snapped up so fast it made my neck hurt. For a second, I’d thought it was Bruce talking, hoped it was him. But I wasn’t that lucky.
“You know he can’t hear you, right?” Ash said as he propped his shoulder against the jamb. I really needed to start closing my door. “If he could though, I’m sure Bruce’d take my side. I wanted to kiss you. You wanted to be kissed. Us getting interrupted? Yeah, ninja girl, I can’t think of anything more tragic.”
I scrambled to my feet, doing a quick mental rundown of my talk with Bruce. This didn’t look good. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Not long,” he said, but his grin told a different story. Ugh. Great, he’d heard everything. Gesturing to my outfit, he said, “Nice PJs. I sleep in boxers myself, but I guess ninja kitties are the next best thing.”
“They’re comfortable,” I said defensively—definitely not picturing Ash in his boxers. “What are you doing here anyway? Who let you in?”
“You mom.” He shrugged. “She said I could sleep over.”
“What?!?”
Ash winced at the shriek, but I couldn’t help it. Omma would never agree to that. She’d never let a boy, particularly this boy, sleep over. This had to be a joke.
“What?” I repeated in a more reasonable tone.
“She said I could stay while my mom and dad do some last minute campaign runs.” He readjusted the strap of the backpack slung over his shoulder. “It’s only for one night. They’re downstairs talking about it now if you don’t believe me.”
I didn’t.
Striding past him, I made my way into the hall and down to the lobby. Mr. and Mrs. Stryker were talking to Omma, Evers and Smith standing a few paces behind, when Ash and I got there. I spotted more bodyguards standing outside the window, one waiting behind the wheel of a large black Escalade, two others casing The Academy’s perimeter. Holy crap.
“You know, there was a time we didn’t think we’d even need security,” Mrs. Stryker was saying. “Agent Evers and my husband were friends long before his bid for office. It was only natural to bring him on when Wesley started getting the hard court cases.” She laughed, but it didn’t sound as light as usual. “No one likes a lawyer who actually works for the people. So, we brought Evers’s company on, and they’ve been guarding our backs ever since.”
“But this has gone too far,” Mr. Stryker said, taking his wife’s hand. “Mrs. Lee, they went after our home.”
He paused as if that fact still shocked him, like it really hadn’t sunken in yet.
“I thank God none of us were in the house. We can’t let Ash stay there by himself,” he added. “He could come on the road with us, but we think it would be safer if Ash stays here with you.”
“Of course,” Omma said gravely. “So, there was no footage of the attack?”
Mrs. Stryker shook her head. “There was a gap in the tapes as usual. Our agents are still trying to recover the data, but it doesn’t look good.”
“That’s too bad.”
Mrs. Stryker took a step forward and lowered her voice. “Henry is Wesley’s best friend, but we can’t sacrifice the safety of our child for friendship. Ash is too important. If and when my husband is elected, we’ll have to upgrade our security. Henry understands.”
I looked to the two bodyguards, standing only feet away. Agent Evers, Mr. Stryker’s lifelong friend, would’ve given Bae Bae a run for his money, his face was so unreadable. But Smith wasn’t as good at bullshitting. He looked pained, his mouth a tight line, body rigid. It was clear he’d heard her whispers and didn’t understand a thing.
“Will you take care of my son, Mrs. Lee?” Mr. Stryker asked.
“Yes,” Omma said. “I assure you, nothing will happen to the boy under my roof.”
“Thank you.” Mrs. Stryker hugged my mom, who went stiff but managed not to retreat. Omma wasn’t big on hugs. Looking up, Ash’s mom noticed me. “I hope you don’t mind a little extra bodyguard duty, Snow. Naturally, I’ll include a nice bonus in your next paycheck.” She winked. “My baby boy can be a handful.”
“Mom,” Ash muttered, and she laughed, throwing her arms around him.
“I love you more than anything,” she said, her voice clogged up. A kiss landed smack on his forehead. “You stay safe, you hear?”
“You too, Mom.”
He hugged her as she wiped away a few stray tears. Mr. Stryker pounded Ash on the back then pointed at his chest.
“You behave yourself, and don’t get into any trouble,” he said seriously.
Ash rolled his eyes. “No trouble, got it.”
“Otherwise, Snow, you have my full permission to punish him as you see fit.”
I blushed at that. I couldn’t believe this was happening.
“I love him, but every now and then the kid needs a good swift kick in the rear.” Mr. Stryker laughed like this was the funniest thing in the world. It startled a laugh out of me, too, because Ash looked horrified.
“Now, you’re sure you packed everything? Socks, deodorant?” Mrs. Stryker frowned as if something just occurred to her. “Ash, do you have enough underwear?”
“Yes, mother,” Ash said, through gritted teeth. “My God, I’m only staying a day. I love you guys, but could you leave already?”
“Just checking,” she said and gave him one last hug. “We’ll be back before you know it.”
“Love you, son,” Mr. Stryker said, walking with Mrs. Stryker to the door. As they drove away in their huge Escalade, like a blow to the head, I suddenly realized: This is real. This is actually happening.
Ash was going to sleep over.
At my house.
Where I eat.
Sleep.
Shower.
Good Lord.
“So…” Ash said, and when I turned to face him, he was holding up five DVDs fanned out like cards in his hand. Bruce’s face stared out from every one of them. “I figured now might be a good time for our marathon?”
* * *
There had to be something wrong with me.
Bruce was seconds away from beating O’Hara’s ass, an all-time favorite. I’d watched the scene over a million times. When we were little, me and Bae Bae used to act the fight out, arguing over who got to be Bruce, until Omma finally had to step in and make us take turns. I’d studied the moves, memorized the dialogue. I could practically do the sequence in my sleep I loved it so much.
When Ash’d asked me what movie we should watch first, I’d shrugged and said “whichever’s your favorite.” He’d said, “Enter the Dragon, hands down” (which I completely and totally agreed with), popped the DVD in, and sat next to me on the couch.
That was when the madness started.
So, why couldn’t I pay attention? Hmm, let’s see:
1) The proximity of Ash’s hand to my thigh. 2-3 inches at the most. ‘Nough said.
2) How quiet he was being. Was he thinking about those measly three inches, too?
3) How every time he shifted, my muscles seized up so I wouldn’t accidently fall into him. I’d never sat so straight for so long in my entire life.
4) The fact that Omma was in the kitchen only feet away—and Ash’s hand was that close to my thigh. Gah.
5) I was freaking starving! Usually, I ate like a fiend during movies. I mean, isn’t that like a rule or something? I didn’t know if I’d be able to snack out like I usually did in front of Ash, but I still missed the buttery goodness of movie popcorn, movie candy, movie soda.
6) My stomach just let out a pretty ferocious growl, and now Ash was frowning at me like I might be a creature from the black lagoon or something. Wonderful.
I jumped when his hand brushed the side of my leg.
“Hey, Snow?”
When I glanced over, his backpack was open, revealing a complete haul of theater candy, everything from Milk Duds to Twizzlers to Peanut M&Ms to Raisinets. The holy grail to moviegoers everywhere.
“Where’d you get all that?” I asked in awe.
“Stocked up before I came,” he said, brows lifted. “What’s your pleasure?”
I tried not to read anything into that and grabbed the box of Sourpatch Kids. “Thanks,” I muttered.
He shrugged. “If you want something else, let me know.”
And when he sat back…his hand stayed right where it was.
Against. My. Leg.
I sucked in a breath. The heat radiating from his skin seemed to burn a hole right through my thin pajama pants. He might as well have been touching my skin. I couldn’t move, could barely breathe. I dared a glance at Ash. Maybe he didn’t even realize.
He caught my gaze…and winked.
Oh Lord.
Ash realized, alright, and from the grin on his face, he knew exactly what his touch was doing to me. The movie seemed to last forever. My leg felt like it was on fire. When the final credits started rolling, he got up to change DVDs, and I sagged with relief.
“What next?” he asked, his back to me.
“Fist of Fury,” I said, rolling my neck. Geez, my muscles were tight. “It’s Lee’s second best.”
“You sure?” Ash looked over his shoulder. “You don’t think Game of Death beats Fist of Fury?”
Oh no, he didn’t.
I shot him a glare. “Are you questioning me?”
He shook his head. “No, but I mean, GoD does have Norris.”
“GoD is so not even close to Fury,” I argued. “The Norris/Lee fight was killer, I’ll admit. But as far as classic fight sequences and overall badassery goes, Fury has it all over GoD. No freaking question.”
“Alright, alright.” He raised his hands in surrender and turned to insert the DVD. I thought I detected a grin but couldn’t be sure. “You’re the authority on Mr. Lee. Fury it is.”
Satisfied, I nodded. The boy was fine, sure, but I couldn’t sit back and let him question my Bruce Lee knowledge. Good thing he’d gracefully accepted defeat.
“Snow-Soon, I made the kimchi,” Omma said, stepping out of the kitchen with a large mixing bowl in her hands. She was wearing pink gloves up to her forearms. Obviously, the kimchi was fresh, just how I liked it. “I want you to try some and make sure it’s not too salty.”
Ash’s eyes lit. “Did you say kimchi?”
Omma nodded then scooped up a piece of cabbage, held it out. I took the bite into my mouth and tried not to moan.
“It’s perfect,” I sighed.
She narrowed her eyes. “That’s what you always say. Ash, you try?”
“Omma,” I said, but Ash was already eating the cabbage she’d offered him. He did moan.
“That’s good stuff, Mrs. Lee,” he said, smiling.
She nodded and went to hand me the bowl. “Here, I’ll get your gloves.”
I did something I’d never done then: I said no to the drool-inducing kimchi.
“No thanks,” I said, though my stomach protested with another low growl. “I’m not hungry.”
“Not hungry?” she repeated in disbelief. “But Snow-Soon, you’re always hungry.”
Thanks, Mom. I could feel the blush rising on my cheeks. God, couldn’t we just pretend I was one of those girls with no appetite? Nara had told me a thousand times that guys don’t like it when girls eat more than they do. Stupid, I know. Pretty much everything Nara said was stupid. But I didn’t want Ash to know I ate like a linebacker. Unfortunately, Omma wouldn’t let up.
“Are you sick?” she asked, pushing her cheek against my forehead. “No fever. That’s good. Snow-Soon, I don’t understand. You usually eat the whole bowl of kimchi, sometimes two, when you watch the movies.”
“You eat this whenever you watch movies?” Ash asked.
I closed my eyes in defeat. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“God, you’re lucky.”
When I opened my eyes, Ash was taking the bowl from Omma. He looked excited like Christmas had come early. “Can I get a set of gloves, too?” he asked. “I love this stuff.”
While Omma went to get the gloves, Ash snuck another piece of cabbage into his mouth—and another. His hands were already stained red from the chili pepper flakes.
“You want some, ninja girl?” He offered me a piece of cabbage, a small dot of paste already hanging from his chin. “I can’t promise there’ll be any left once your mom gets back.”
I rolled my eyes, grabbed the piece and popped it into my mouth.
He stared a second then said, “You know, I love a girl with an appetite.”
Reaching into the bowl, I took another bite, a little embarrassed but curious about the way his eyes followed me. “Watch out, or I might eat it all,” I warned.
That seemed to work. Ash ate two more bites and closed his eyes. “Beats popcorn any day,” he said.
“So true,” I said back, eating a few of the Sourpatch Kids. My stomach wouldn’t be denied any longer.
Ash shook his head.
“What?”
“I was thinking there wasn’t anything better than kissing you,” he said. “But watching you eat is a close second.”
“Shut up, and watch the movie.”
I tried not to smile, didn’t think I succeeded.
* * *
It turned out Ash sleeping over wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d thought it would be. When we got done with movie 2, and I said it was time for my afternoon workout, he just said, “Cool, I need to work off all that kimchi,” and followed me into the gym.
I didn’t think I’d be able to concentrate. Correction: I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate with Ash there. And I was right.
It was damn hard not to look at Ash when he was doing things like: stretching, running, kicking, sweating, breathing hard. He basically jacked up my focus simply by being in the room. Yeah, I did all of my usual, quads, lats, obliques, biceps, triceps etc. But my God, how was I supposed to keep count of how many butterflies I’d done when Ash had just taken his shirt off?
His abs weren’t like Bruce’s. I’d been right about that, too, but they were just as tempting. Ash’s abs looked golden—which meant I was probably hallucinating. They looked softer, more touchable, maybe even kissable—
Holy shit! He just caught me staring like a total idiot.
Whipping around, I pretended nothing happened and walked (ran) to the workbench conveniently placed as far from him as possible. Deep breaths, Snow. Do not think about Ash’s amazing golden abs. They’ll only throw you off.
I got into position, legs straight up, knees locked, arms attached to the back of the bench for stability. I could only do a few of Bruce’s favorite sit-ups aka Dragon Flags. But I’d worked my way up to five, and I knew if I wanted to get to 10 I had to keep pushing. Plus, if I was being honest, I kind of wanted to impress Golden Abs over there. Closing my eyes, I inhaled while my legs were on the way down, exhaled as they came back up.
Inhale, legs down. Exhale, legs up.
Inhale, down. Exhale, up.
Inhale, down. Exhale, up.
In—
“Nice form.”
My eyes popped open. All I could see were the abs inches from my face. Knowing who was attached to the abs made what happened next even more embarrassing. As my legs started to go down, I squeaked, lost my balance, and toppled right off the bench and onto my side.
“Jesus,” Ash said, leaning down. “You okay, Snow?”
“Wonderful,” I mumbled.
“That looked pretty bad. Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” As he helped me up, my knuckles just happened to, completely by accident, brush against his stomach. Goodness, they felt even better than they looked. “Thank you, soccer,” I mumbled, but I guess it wasn’t low enough because Ash laughed.
“Speaking of soccer,” he said, “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
I nodded, missing the twinkle in his eye.
“But you can’t have it right now. You have to wait until midnight.”
“Midnight?” I repeated.
Ash just said, “You’ll love it, trust me.”
We watched the remaining Bruce Lee films, and at 11:20 p.m. when Ash told me to grab a jacket and meet him outside, long after Omma had checked the Academy locks, said goodnight and went to bed, I didn’t question it. I grabbed my hoodie from my room. Bruce seemed to be shaking his head, but I ignored him and hurried downstairs. It could’ve been because I’d been blinded by his six-pack or because I was recovering from that embarrassing fall. Or hell, maybe I was just curious. Still.
If I’d known what was coming, I never would’ve let Ash leave the house.