I sit across the kitchen table, staring at the woman who has demanded my full attention since the moment I laid eyes on her. As promised, Ash showed up for her late-night visit, with gourmet leftovers no less. We feasted on each other and then a decadent two AM snack of filet mignon and mashed truffle potatoes.
This morning, I whipped up some French toast and fresh fruit. I usually do smoothies for breakfast, but when Ash is here, I have a compulsion to cook. I have a compulsion to watch her eat. Watch her plump mouth work the food I made for her.
“Ashley Mercedes Roe,” she answers yet another one of my probing questions. I’ve been peppering her all morning, gaining any and all the information I can about her.
“And you like being called Ash? Or do you prefer Ashley?”
“Ash, most definitely. I cringe when someone calls me Ashley; it reminds me too much of my mother scolding me.” She crinkles her nose adorably. “Ashley,” she crows, shivering from the memory.
“Okay.” I chuckle. “No Ashley.”
“No.” She shakes her head and takes another perfectly constructed bite of her French toast, meticulously forking a piece of cut strawberry, bread, and a dip of syrup.
“What about you? Full name?”
“Eli Dexter Livingston. I was named after my grandfather.” It isn’t a total lie. Livingston isn’t my real last name, but Eli Dexter is. I never met the man whose name I bear, but he was apparently beloved by all. At least, that’s what my father tells me.
“So...” I wave my fork around, with a piece of French toast stabbed through the prongs. “I know you don’t like to be called Ashley, you’re a banquet server when need be, and you’re studying business. What else? What other secrets does Ash Mercedes Roe have?”
Ash pulls her legs up into the seat, sitting Indian style. “I’m a gymnast.”
“Oh really?” This intrigues me. It also explains how she can freaking control her body the way she does.
“Yes. I’m on the school gymnastics team. I’ve been competing since I was six.”
“That’s very impressive.”
“I enjoy it. But since I’m a senior, this will be my last competitive year.” She pushes her food around her plate sadly.
“All good things must come to an end, huh?”
“I guess.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll close one book and open another. That’s how life works. Sometimes it sucks, sometimes it doesn’t.”
“Speaking from experience?”
“Something like that.”
“I’ll remember your advice.” In goes another perfectly perfected bite. I stare at her mouth while she chews, not even trying to hide the fact that I am.
“See something you like?” Ash flirts.
“I see a whole lot of somethings I like.”
Her cheeks redden as she smirks. “Okay so what about you? Any hobbies I should know about?”
“Mmmm?” I pretend to rack my brain. “I like to shoot.”
“Shoot, like guns?”
“Yup. I try to get to the shooting range at least once a week.” It’s not a complete lie, I’ve been shooting since I was a kid. Growing up in rural Virginia, guns were part of everyday life. Now, I carry one for a living.
“That’s dedication.”
“It’s more like a de-stressor.”
“You must be a good shot.”
“I’m okay.” I feign humility.
“Would you teach me?” Ash asks, fiddling nervously with her fork. How cute.
“Anytime. I would love to see you with a .22 in your hand. Can I watch you compete sometime?” It’s my turn to sit in the hot seat.
Ash considers before answering. I’m sure inviting the man who bought her virginity to a public outing is a tad taboo.
“I think... I might like that.” She bites her lip, her eyes wide and sparkly.
“It’s a date then. Two dates, actually.” The notion makes me excited. I’ll take any excuse to spend time with Ash.
“This was delicious.” She pushes her plate away politely. “But I have to get going. I have homework and practice tonight.”
The thought of her leaving has me crashing down from a high.
“When can I see you again?” I stand with her a little too eagerly. Jesus, down boy. You’re acting like a clingy puppy.
“Um.” Ash suppresses a laugh. She definitely noticed my jumpy reaction. Idiot. “Thursday? That’s my next free day.”
“What about the night?”
“Yes, I’m free that night as well.”
“Good. You’re all mine then. All day, and all night,” I stipulate, cozying up next to her and snaking my arm around her waist. I really don’t want her to go.
“I’m all yours.” She rests her palms on my chest and my heart pounds against my rib cage harder than a sledgehammer. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.
“I’ll text you later.” I skim my teeth along her neck, reluctant to let her go.
“That wouldn’t suck.” She laughs, and so do I.
I watch, hiding my dismay, as Ash gathers her things and leaves. It was all too quick and now I’m all too lonely. And no closer to finding out who the ringleader is in the virgin auctions. I have a lot of work to do, and a small window of time to do it. I know my superiors will be breathing down my neck soon. They’ll want answers or want to pull the plug. Either way, this situation is temporary. I’m not a wealthy businessman; I’m a cop who barely has two nickels to rub together, who’s deceiving a woman he was only supposed to gain information from, not fall into bed with. And even though we haven’t technically slept together, I already feel an ownership over her that I have no business laying claim to.
She isn’t mine, no matter what the paperwork says.
And I’ll keep reminding myself of that until I actually believe it.