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Synopsis:

I turned my back on society, walked off the grid and never looked back. So, why can't I let her go?

Sawyer:

Ashley represents everything I hate in society. 

A spoiled brat, a media princess, a woman who would rather record her life than live it. 

It’s people like her that are responsible for the bullshit on the internet, bullshit that cost the lives of everyone I’ve ever loved. 

But one taste of her makes me question how I could ever live in a world without her in it.

Ashley:

Sawyer offers me nothing more than a hard body and a warm bed. 

He’s just an escape from my humiliation and betrayal. He can never provide me the lifestyle that I worked so hard to obtain. 

Then why am I considering throwing away my fame and fans to hide away from the world that embraced me when no one else would?

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Chapter 1 | Ashley

“Can you believe my pic already has thirteen thousand likes? I only put it up, what, an hour ago?” I sweep my cell in front of Tom and Stacey’s faces. They don’t pay attention to the image of my ass perched on the edge of our hot tub in these killer Victoria’s Secret string bikini bottoms. They lived it, standing awkwardly to the side with their drinks while Ben helped me get the perfect shot.

I ignore their indifference, smiling down at the screen. I love how the light sparkles off my 18-carat diamond, like Ben stole a star from the sky and put it on my finger. I don’t care if everyone is bored or jealous or whatever, this shot is getting the love it deserves. It might have taken almost an hour to get the angle and the lighting just right, but amazing butt selfies don’t just happen.

I should know, it’s kinda my thing.

“I believe it,” Ben nuzzles up against me in the hot tub, “everyone wants a piece of that ass.” I lean back against him and close my eyes, feeling the world swirl a little as the jets from the tub whirl over my skin and the pricey champagne hits me.

“You guys are just too cute,” Kate intrudes on my moment from across the ten-seater tub.

I flicker my eyes open and the room spirals a tad, but as soon as her sour face comes into focus, I miss the drunken kaleidoscope of colors.

“I know, right? Aren’t they adorbs, bae?” Stacey prods on her husband Tom. Tilting her cut jaw at him and flicking her eyes our way. God, even her chin looks like it has muscles. Stacey and her man are both fitness models, I swear, my left ass cheek probably has more fat than both of their entire bodies put together.

Tom wraps his thick arm over her shoulder and smiles. For a second, I wonder if his arm is crushing her with his ridiculously built bicep. “They’re perfect together,” he answers, “just like us.”

Tom’s hand breaks up through the surface of the bubbly water and cups his wife’s strong jaw, the two of them might be built like human armor, but they still kiss tenderly. I can tell that it won’t be long before they retire to their room in our ski cabin and go fuck each other’s brains out. The image of their bodies slapping together, like two planks of hardwood sweeps through my mind.

“You know, it’s getting late,” Stacey purrs, leaning over Tom like a kitty about to pounce. I can’t see either of her hands, but I can imagine where they are. I wonder if Tom’s dick looks really small when compared to his muscles on an even more muscular frame.

I smirk over at Ben, next to Tom he looks like a pipsqueak, not that I’d ever tell him that. Still, I would rather the more natural look, even if he is a little on the short side and a bit scrawnier than I’d prefer. I shake the thought from my head and get another rush from the booze messing with my vision. Who cares if he’s a little small? He’s filthy rich. Besides, ever since he proposed my Instagram fame has propelled to new heights.

Just don’t wear heels over three inches around him. And don’t get fat. Then he won’t look like such a waif beside you. See? His stature is actually a good thing, it’s more motivation to stick to your diet. I smile at the famous bachelor who proposed to me after only four months together.

Ben smirks back at me, his green eyes locking on mine. The day he put a ring on it, a lot of hearts on the internet were broken. Not only is he a young and hot, but the fact that he earned his millions by outsmarting his opponents in poker games just adds to his appeal.

He’s a risk taker. Hard to read. Sexy as hell. And he’s mine.

Chapter 2 | Ashley

“Thanks for inviting us up here. Can you believe we’ve never been to the Telluride resort before? We’ve always meant to come here for a little vacay, but just never found the time,” Stacey explains. I still can’t see her hands. I push the uncomfortable idea of her playing with her hubby’s little pecker out of my mind.

“Of course! What’s an engagement celebration without my best friends?” Ben answers chipperly.

“And my stepsister,” I chime in.

“Foster sister,” Kate corrects me.

Thanks for sucking the air out of the room, sis.

I roll my eyes at her and ignore her bitterness. She’s just jealous that my star is on the rise and she’s still trying to get her first fifty thousand followers on Instagram.

Like it’s my fault Ben saw me online and decided to ask me out? It’s my fault we hit it off and our fans absolutely loved us together? Seriously, she needs to get over herself.

I always asked Ben what photo on my profile made him decided to contact me. His answer has stayed consistent. The one where I’m in a field of flowers in a Taylor Swift hat and a little sundress is the shot he insists stole his heart. I don’t believe it though. Not when eighty percent of my pics are of my big bubble butt. I know what really drew him in. And, I know how to keep him.

I snuggle back in the tub against my man, rubbing the ass that’s made me famous against him.

“We should probably hit the hay though,” Tom announces loudly, tossing back the last gulp of his Patron. I look over at Stacey and notice her shoulders are slightly trembling, her hands still mysteriously under the water.

Ewww.

“Ok, wait guys. Before you go do your thing, let’s take a group selfie!” I know I’m kinda cock blocking, but it’s only going to take a second. Besides, that’s what they get for jerking each other off in the hot tub when we’re all sitting in it.

“Another one?” Stacey whines.

“It will only take a second,” I turn around and take another swig of my Dom Perignon, scrunching up my nose as the bubbles tickle their way down my throat.

“You always say that,” Kate chimes in, “then it takes an hour!”

“Oh shush! We’re here to celebrate my engagement, remember?” I grab the selfie stick, with my phone already attached. “So, please indulge me if I want to take pictures to remember it by,” I chide them. I leave out the part that the photos I’ve been taking at the resort have never been more popular.

Stacey and Kate quit being crybabies and everyone scooches together on one side of the tub. “Everyone ready?” I ask.

“No wait a sec, here Tom put your arm under my tits and push it up so I look like I actually have some,” Stacey instructs her husband.

“Are you sure you’re okay with your face being in this one? You don’t want to turn around and moon the phone?” Kate sneers.

Jealous bitch.

She probably wishes it was like the good ol’ days when she was the popular one and I was often confused for a boy with my short, anti-lice haircut and tattered clothes.

“No need to take another belfie,” I use the popular phrase that Kim Kardashian made famous with the selfie of her huge ass, “not when I’ve got the most desired man on the internet on my arm.” I force a smile at her that turns genuine as I watch her lips twist down with envy.

“Alright everyone, in three, two, one,” the flash on my cellphone strobes over us from where it’s perched on my selfie stick. It’s hovering at the perfect angle over our heads and, with the fireplace crackling with soft light behind us, we might not even need a filter with how good we’ll all look. Who am I kidding? You always need a filter.

“Ellen DeGeneres has got nothing on us!” I squeal and flick my finger across the screen. “This looks even better than that Academy Awards pic she took with all the celebs.”

“Ohhh, let me see. Did you get my good side?” Kate plucks the iPhone from my fingers and scrutinizes it. Her big brown eyes squint down as she analyzes the picture to death.

“No you don’t, gimmie that,” I grab it back from her and quickly add my hashtags before she can find any problems. “It’s done. Everyone will love it. Annndddd, posted,” I smile up at her angry face and turn the phone screen back toward her. “See, it’s already getting tons of love,” I twist it back so I can watch the heart symbols collect numbers from my adoring Instagram followers.

I hold my breath anxiously willing the numbers to rise. My chest tightens as I wait for the first thousand likes to roll in. If my picture doesn’t get that many off the bat, I have to delete it. You don’t make a living from being a model on this site with pictures no one cares about.

More than that, I won’t be able to enjoy the rest of my night if my fans don’t care about what I’m doing. Every time the counter by the empty little heart jumps up in numbers, it fills my empty little heart with pride. The social media love soars past my magic thousand in less than twenty seconds and my nerves calm. I casually lay my phone on the on the hot tub ledge and protect it from the water with my big, fuzzy towel as the moment of anxiety rolls off my shoulders.

“Of course everyone will love it,” Ben sits between us, wrapping his arms around our shoulders and pulling us both in tight. “It’s got two of the most beautiful women on the internet in it, so quit worrying and let’s get back to our party,” he smiles. I feel myself relax in his half-hug, especially once Kate’s scowl begins to transform into a sly smile.

“Hey, and what am I? Huh? Chopped liver?” Stacey calls out. We all turn toward her. “You couldn’t say the three most beautiful women? Like, what am I? Some kind of ugly duckling then?” She pouts.

“Of course not, I meant three. My mistake,” Ben soothes her bruised ego with a slick smile. I don’t think there’s a woman on this earth that can resist his charm. The way he can make his green eyes twinkle when his sultry smile spreads over his boyish features, it makes every girl I know flush with excitement.

“Ok, I’ll let it slide this time,” she stands up and tugs on Tom’s hand, eager to get the rest of their night started.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in my book,” Tom stands up next to her and helps her out of the tub, wrapping a towel around her. I try not to notice that’s his ‘little Tom’ is standing at attention, pressed up against his dripping trunks, it’s hard to ignore.

Luckily Romeo on Roids takes his little, and I do mean little, distraction into their bedroom and Stacey follows, slamming the door behind them.

“I should get some more wood for the fire.” Kate announces, snapping my attention back to our party of three in the hot tub.

“I think we’re alright, aren’t we?” I squint, forcing my eyes to focus on the small pile of logs beside the roaring fireplace.

“Nah, I could use the fresh air anyway. Besides, you can never have too much wood, right?” She smirks and stands up, running her fingers underneath her bikini bottoms she frees them from where they were wedged between her ass cheeks before getting out and grabbing a robe.

“Whatever you say,” I laugh. I find it’s best to ignore Kate. Letting her make a big deal out of anything gives her exactly the attention she’s desperate for.

I should know. I’m desperate for that same attention.

Chapter 3 | Ashley

I lean over the rim of the tub and laugh as one of the jets almost takes my top off. Giggling, I move over and grab the bottle of Dom. “Want a top up?” I ask Ben in the sultriest voice I can manage.

“Hmmm?” He looks over at me slowly, dragging his eyes off Kate’s grand exit into the snow. She’s heading out to the woodshed just behind our cabin. If I had to guess, it’s probably not so much for ‘fresh air’ as it is to smoke. No matter how many times I tell her it’s a disgusting habit that’s going to give her wrinkles, she won’t quit.

“Oh, uh no,” he answers. “I’m going to give Kate a hand out there. I don’t want her to knock wood down on herself or freeze.” He quickly makes his way from the tub and dries off before throwing on his robe and walking out.

What a gentleman. I sigh, letting the contentment of this moment wash over me like one of the jets in this tub. I fill the champagne to the top of my crystal glass, watching the bubbles slink up the side and burst on the surface. Taking a huge mouthful, I slowly swallow, letting my mind wander.

It wasn’t that long ago that all of this would’ve been beyond my wildest dreams. It’s amazing how far I’ve come. Not to mention what I’ve overcome. My thoughts are shrouded with childhood memories I’d rather have erased from my brain forever.

No.

I won’t let my moment in the sun be clouded over by the dark storms of my past. I’m going to enjoy every second of this. I have a hot man, I’m popular, I have powerful friends, money. This is the life. Who cares where it all began?

I pick up my cell and check on my account one more time. Both my butt selfie and my group picture are burning up with online love. I can’t help but smile at the screen. It’s like I can feel the adoration those little emoji hearts represent pouring out to me. It fills my soul to know there are so many people out there who care about me. Who love me.

After another sip of my champagne, I’m surprised that I’m already down to the last gulp in the glass. Wow. That went fast. Where the hell is Kate? What’s taking her and Ben so long?

Standing up on wobbly legs, I fall back down on my famously big ass, making a big splash in the hot water. Laughter bursts from my lips at my lack of grace. Good thing no one caught that in a photo.

This time, I manage to get my feet under me a little more sturdily and step out of the tub carefully, so I don’t slip and crack my head on the floor. I pluck the thick, plush towel from the side of the hot tub and carefully pat myself dry before wrapping it around me. Grabbing my phone from the ledge, I walk over to the door of the chalet. I stare out the window, but don’t see any sign of my stepsister, sorry, my foster sister, or my fiancé. God, I hope they haven’t passed out or something. I’d hate to have to get Tom and Stacey to help me drag them in here.

Placing my dry feet in my fur-lined boots, I yank open the door and brave the cold to take a quick peek around the property for them.

Brrr. A shiver runs down my spine and I tighten the towel around me as I walk faster past the wood shed. I stop in my tracks. What is that?

I swear I can hear a chipmunk chattering, but when I look around I don’t see anything. I know it’s not my imagination though, it’s actually getting louder as I step quietly toward the wood supply. My gut sinks as I start to make sense of what that noise could be in my drunken mind. I walk through the snow, behind the woodshed and stop dead in my tracks.

Ben is standing behind Kate, her bikini bottoms around her ankles and his trunks pulled down to his thighs. He’s fucking her like a wild animal, fast, forcefully, from behind. Her chipmunk chatter fills the air, “that’s right, just like that. Fuck me, Ben. Deeper.” She doesn’t notice me. Neither of them do. Standing in the snow, watching my fiancé fuck my foster sister, like a fucking idiot.

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me!” I scream, tears welling up in my eyes. I turn on my heel and do my best to run in a straight line back up to the cabin.

“Ahhh, shit. Ashley! Wait!” I hear Ben call after me.

“No, just finish. We can get her later,” I hear Kate say.

That bitch.

That pig.

Fuck them.

I make my way to the door and stumble inside. I look around the cabin frantically. I can’t stay here. I can’t be under the same roof as my cheating fiancé and the girl I’ve thought of as a sister for eight years. I can’t sleep here, like a fool, supposedly celebrating an engagement that’s a fucking lie.

I race across the floor, banging my hip into the dining room table. “Fuck!” I yell angrily. I grab my black fur coat and fuzzy winter hat and quickly button it up to my neck. “Fuck this! Fuck them!” The tears rain down my face in a downpour. I knew I wasn’t good enough for him.

For any of them.

My vision is blurry as I run back out into the snow, quickly making my way to the treeline on the side of the property. I don’t have a plan. Not that a plan would help. I planned my life in excruciating detail to get to this pinnacle. To this moment. And all it’s led to is my humiliation.

“Ashley! Wait!” I hear Ben call out behind me, but I don’t stop. I barrel forward down a trail, and let myself get swallowed by the darkness.

I run until my lungs burn and my legs feel like Jell-O. I run until I can’t hear anything or see any signs of light besides the stars. Even then, I run further. Time blurs and my limbs cry out for mercy. Begging me to stop. Still, I run further. Faster. Trying to escape my shame. Trying to put distance between me and the betrayal I just witnessed.

I look around, somehow, I’ve managed to get off the trail I thought I was following. When did that happen? A shiver washes over me, taking over control of my muscles. I push through the underbrush, slogging forward in the crunchy snow. I don’t care. I don’t care what happens to me. I don’t even want to live if my entire life, if everything I’ve spent years building, is all a lie.

The image of Ben fucking Kate with his pencil dick attacks my mind and fresh tears fill my eyes. Fuck them.

“Arrgghh!” My boot catches on something under the snow and I fall face down into the cold, soft blanket of white. I roll over and try to sit back up, but don’t have the strength. My thoughts cloud over and the sky spins above me, blurring into a cascade of shooting stars from the tears in my eyes. I can feel myself letting go, my body sinks into the snow and my eyelids close.

I’m so tired. I just need a nap. Maybe this is already a dream and I just need to wake up. The thought is fleeting. As is my will to move. I close my eyes and feel myself fall off the edge as the world goes black.

Chapter 4 | Sawyer

The wind blasts me with punishing, arctic air. It’s so cold that I stop in my tracks as the exposed skin on my cheeks burns. I wipe my gloved hand through my beard and little icicles, miniature versions of the ones back home clinging to my cabin roof, sheer off.

There’s a storm coming. No doubt about it. After three winters in the woods, it’s not hard to tell what weather is rolling in. I’ve learned how to pay attention to the changing clouds. I can tell when a sunny summer day is going to transform into a hot storm. I know when the frosty air is bringing snow squalls. Too bad I never learned to get my ass into town quicker when I need supplies.

I should’ve made this trip at least a week ago. Every morning I woke up telling myself that I’d head out, and every night I laid my head on my pillow with the dread of facing the world still eating at my gut. It took being down to the bare minimum, just like it always does, before I slung this toboggan rope over my shoulders, strapped these snowshoes to my feet and started the three-day journey out of the wilderness.

Wilderness.

I snort at the word and pull my glove off with my teeth. Why do they call it that, huh? Unzipping my parka, I reach inside until my fingers graze the cool metal hiding in my chest pocket. I suppose it’s because that’s where the wild life lives, I’m no scholar, but that’s my best guess. The silver metal flask is warm against my numb hand and I quickly unscrew the lid and take a long swig of my moonshine.

“Pffft,” I wipe the burning liquor from my lips and squirrel away my flask, “there isn’t an animal alive that’s more wild than the people out there.” I squint my eyes and can see the lights of the city off in the distance disrupting the stunning stars. “Fucking savages.”

Tugging my glove back on, I adjust my hat and scarf, preparing for the last leg of my hike into town. Supplies don’t just show up when you live out in the woods. It’s not like I can just sign onto my non-existent computer and get them delivered by Amazon. Not that I’d ever want to.

Instead, I make four trips a year into Mountain Village to pick up what I can’t grow or hunt myself. It’s not ideal, if I had it my way, I’d never go back. However, not going back because you’re happy and living off the land is not the same as not going back because your dead from being too stupid to get supplies.

I might be stubborn, but I’m not stupid.

Reluctantly, I knock the layer of ice from the top of my beavertail snowshoes and grab my rope.

This would be a lot easier with a Skidoo. It’s a hell of a haul to trudge through the forest for three days lugging a sled behind me. But Skidoo’s need gas, maintenance, time, money. Not like this. All I need is two feet and a heartbeat to get where I’m going. That suits me just fine.

Enough standing around. Time is a wasting.

Snap! Thump!

What the hell? I drop my sled rope and turn around, peering through the darkness. That wasn’t a raccoon or skunk. It was too loud. Too heavy. My eyes are adjusted perfectly to the darkness, but I don’t see anything. Not that I would if a bobcat was stalking me. I crouch down and tilt my head, listening intently.

Crunch, crunch, thump, snap!

That’s no bobcat. Shit. I hop up and dart over to my toboggan and grab my rifle. In the distance, I can see a black bear trampling erratically on its hind legs. It’s crashing all over the place, flinging itself forward. Damn it! Why is it walking like that? Does it have rabies? Just what I need.

I raise my gun and stare down the barrel, locking the bear into my sight.

“Arrrghh!”

It’s gone. I didn’t drop it. I look around suspiciously, is there another hunter out here? I didn’t hear a shot.

With my gun still ready to shoot, I trek through the woods to where I watched the bear disappear. I listen for it’s cries, for it’s heavy breathing, for anything. Not a sound.

Another polar vortex rips through the evergreens and painfully attacks the little skin I have exposed. I turn my back into the gust, protecting my face from the threat of frostbite. Once it dies down, I lift my gun and slowly trudge over to the bear. It’s easy to see the outline now in the snow. I’m not sure what happened to it, but it’s not moving. It looks awfully small to be out on its own. From how lean it is, I’d expect it to have died of malnourishment. Just like I will if I don’t suck it up and get my ass into town for supplies.

I start to turn back, satisfied that I’m not going to be shredded alive by a bear, when something catches my eye.

Between the black furry body and paw, I see a creamy patch exposed. What is that? It takes longer than it should to realize that I’m not staring at a slumped over, malnourished bear, but a human. A woman. And her bare leg is carelessly laying exposed on the snow.

Fuck.

I don’t want anything to do with whatever this situation is. Yet, I can’t stop myself from closing the distance between us. The closer I get, the less sense it makes. Under her big, black hat I can see her features starting to come into focus.

She’s young.

I crunch through the crisp icy layer as I lumber closer.

She’s pretty.

I look around, straining my ears to listen for another person. Surely she’s not out here alone? There’s no noise. None except my own heartbeat rushing blood into my ears.

Finally, I’m standing over her. It’s easy to see she’s passed out. From the smell of her, I’d say she’s drunk. Probably a lightweight judging by how tiny she is.

Damn it! This isn’t my problem. This woman and whatever her issues are, aren’t mine to take on. But, I don’t budge. I don’t even blink. There’s no way I can just leave her here. It’s a death sentence. I might not want anything to do with her, but that doesn’t mean she deserves to freeze to death. Despite what people say, it’s not a great way to go.

I hunch over her and rip my glove off my hand, holding my fingers under her nose. Warm air puffs over my hand. She’s breathing. That makes her my problem. Replacing my glove, I slide my hands under her arms and lift her into a sitting position. Her fur coat flops open, exposing more flesh than I expected to see. What kind of idiot runs off into the woods dressed like a bear and wearing nothing else but a bra and underwear?

As I button her coat back up, I notice the jagged flecks of ice that have formed over her breasts. Wait, was her bra wet? Because now it’s frozen. Is she…is she wearing a bikini? A wet bikini?

Idiot feels like a totally inadequate word for this level of stupid.

I roll my eyes. There’s nothing I can do but try to keep the frost from damaging her milky skin. I easily lift her up and carry her over my shoulders like a dead deer and bring her back to my sled.

I’ve got to get her warmed up. Fast. I can make a shelter here or I can take her back ten minutes where I saw an old hunting cabin with a chimney and get her next to a fire.

Fire wins.

I gently lie her down on the toboggan and take off my parka, placing it over her. Why on earth is this woman out here? Why is she dressed like this? What is she running from? I stare at her face and try not to notice her beautiful features.

I’ll never find out anything if I don’t get her warm. I pry my eyes from her high cheekbones and full lips and yank the rope to my sled. I guess supplies will need to wait. Sighing, I plod back to my trail. Back to the empty cabin I passed. Back into the woods. There’s no question that if I don’t get this lady warmed up very soon she’s going to die of exposure.

That’s a guilt I could never shake from my conscience. Her death is something I could never outrun. Unlike the deaths I struggle to leave behind in the city. The ones I disappeared off the grid over, this one would be my fault.