CHAPTER NINE

 

 

SAM

I head upstairs to take a shower while Ash asks Ru what she should do next. Running turned out to be a bad idea. My nuts felt like a pair of megaton wrecking balls swinging at each other. I probably should have expected that pounding pavement wasn’t going to ease the frustration that Ash causes, but neither would anything else.

Twisting on the tap, I strip out of my sweaty running gear and step under the spray. The shower beads pummel my shoulders and neck, and warm my couch-sore muscles. She’s still here. She’s out of my bed and she’s trying to be a human being.

I rock my jaw as I admit to myself that the last half of my run went faster because I needed to get back to see whether she’d left. Finding her in the pantry started my heart beating again.

Running had given me time to think about what happened in my office this morning. There have been so many times when I’ve had to bail Ash out of trouble, but mostly that was when she was a teenager, back before we became anything more than friends. She partied and went on benders and raised hell. She dated jackasses and gave the world the finger in the hopes of getting any attention from her dad. But she was different with me.

We weren’t a train wreck. At least not until she left, throwing my own reasons we shouldn’t have been together back at me. The same excuses she gave me when she took off again after my dad died. But the last two days have been the worst I’ve seen her behave since before she came home from college after the car accident. She’d struggled for months after she called me for help that time. Couldn’t eat, or sleep. She’d cry out Talon’s name in the middle of the night if she did doze off. Scream it like a banshee. It was the only time she’d even acknowledged the guy existed. She refused to recognize that she’d loved him. She barely managed to get out of bed. And when I finally coaxed her out of hiding, it had only been to the couch.

Even now my chest hurts at how destroyed Ash was. Heartbroken. Her body shrinking along with her soul. Witnessing it day after day killed me. I can still recall the first day she managed to get dressed after the funeral. It’d been almost five months, and she’d come out of the bedroom wearing one of my shirts and a pair of skinny jeans that hung baggily from her hips. I’d almost cried for fucking joy when she tucked her bunny slipper clad feet under her on the couch, picked up the TV remote, and started skipping channels.

The water’s cold so I turn it off and snatch up a towel to scrub the wetness off me as I march through to the bedroom. I pull fresh clothes from the closet and toss them on the newly made bed. The one Ash has decided to give back to me because she wants to prove she’s not behaving like a damn teenager all over again.

I’m not completely sure we weren’t just happy when she was with me. For a while it seemed like we were. We’d spend our weekends when I wasn’t working ensconced on the couch or in bed. I used to tell her she should be out having fun, and she’d tell me that she’d already done the things girls her age were doing and that they held no joy for her. She wanted a quieter life, one with me, and maybe we could get a cat. I’d tell her I wasn’t sure we were ready for that, and she’d smile and tell me she knew exactly where she belonged. I only had to realize that. I’d humor her with questions about the future she saw for us and inevitably we’d end up talking about houses and babies and rocking chairs on the back porch of what she called our future love nest. I wanted it so badly too. But she was so young. I felt like I was stealing her future when I wasn’t sure of my own.

I was jaded by my own mortality, and dad’s health. His heart attacks wore me down for a while. Made me think too much about how Ash would fare if she saddled herself with me. There were too many years between us. I was tired and the whole world was waiting for her.

When she turned around and told me I was right, I believed her. Of course she wanted to travel and have fun. Now I’m not so sure her reasons weren’t just my own bullshit thrown back at me.

Even when she came back I never expected her to stay, though I wanted her to. Truth is I couldn’t have handled her staying after dad passed. I was struggling to make it through each day, telling myself holding onto her wasn’t in her best interest.

And her staying now? Is it just because of the sex tape? Or is it more? Does she maybe still think about that future we used to want? Perhaps it’s both. When she mentioned Mandy, she couldn’t hide her jealousy at the idea of me with someone else. Or did I imagine that? And if I didn’t…I have no fucking idea what to do with it.

Pulling on my slacks, I drag a cotton T-shirt over my head as I exit the room to head downstairs. She says I was right, but what if I was wrong?

***

Honestly, I can barely concentrate on the books when she’s everywhere I turn. Why is she still here? Why is she trying so damn hard? Why now? “Hey.”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

She sits down on the couch, lifting her legs out in front of her and examining her toes quietly while she waits for me to finish. I take my time on the count, wanting to make sure I get it to balance this time and giving myself a little longer to decide what I want to say to her. Closing the ledger, I pack everything away in the safe behind me before joining her on the couch.

I can’t help but think of those bunny slippers she used to own as she tucks her feet up under her. She used to wear those damn ratty things all the time. Any time we would relax on the couch and watch movies she’d rest her legs over my lap, those bunny slippers dangling from her toes. Every important conversation we had about how I thought she was too young and inexperienced to know what she wanted, they were there. Every time she argued and told me she’d always known she wanted to be with me, they were there. Every time her face lit up as though she could barely contain her hopefulness when she told me she wanted to wake up with me, to wear my shirts while she traipsed barefoot around my kitchen, and have a family with me, those damn long eared, pink nosed slippers were there. “What happened to Flopsy and Mopsy?”

Her eyes widen as though she doesn’t believe I could remember. “They fell apart.”

“You wore them to death no doubt.” I settle back into the soft leather cushions and clasp my hands together behind my head. Otherwise I’ll touch her. I won’t be able to help myself. It’ll be unintentional. A brush of my knuckles against her bicep, or my fingers encircling hers, or her feet in my lap. But nothing between us is ever harmless, and an innocent, accidental touch could still wreak havoc. “Is Ru still here? Have you eaten?”

“Ru gave me a plate before he left.” She shrugs and I catch her wince. This couch is probably the worst place for anyone to sleep. “He said there might have been a parcel delivered for me?”

“There was. It’s upstairs.”

“Upstairs? Why?” she asks with uncertainty.

I keep asking myself the same thing. What possessed me to put her things back in my room after just one night? Seven years ago, I watched her pull apart my world, using my own reasons to tell me why we shouldn’t have been together. She was too young. There was too much for her to see and experience. She couldn’t settle in one place with one man. With me.

Five years ago, she reminded me of every single reason I’d fed her the first time we were together. But what if I was wrong to believe her when she spat out my own words? What if she only told me what she knew I would accept?

What if all the bullshit reasons were just that? Bullshit.

Maybe I’m wrong to second-guess myself. Perhaps that year and a half we shared was nothing more than a lull in her restlessness, and I’m just a sucker who can’t convince myself to let her go. It’s been five years since the last time I thought she was mine, and I still can’t look at her without seeing that future she wanted so badly.

But if I’m right... If there’s any chance...

“Why are you here, Ash?”

“I told you, I needed somewhere to hide after people saw the tape,” she says, the air cooler when she wriggles to put space between us.

“Look at me.” I grasp her chin and lift her face to mine. “Why don’t you try telling me that’s the only reason you’re here while looking me in the eye.”

She swallows and her gaze ducks to my shoulder.

I brush the pad of my thumb along her jaw. Does she even know what draws her here now? “You haven’t needed me in years, Ash.”

“How do you know?” she asks.

“I’ve checked up on you from time to time,” I admit. “You haven’t gotten into trouble like this since before you were with me. You’ve kept your feet under you. You’ve been fine without me. What happened? Why’d you come back?”

She squints, her forehead puckering like she’s in pain, before she exhales deeply. “I needed your help. Wanted you to make me feel good, fat lot of good that did for me.”

“Come on, Ash. That’s not why you’re here.” I need something more from her than the fact we were always great together when it came to sex.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She stares at me until her eyes become glassy from forcing it. She doesn’t even blink.

“You don’t want to tell me the real reason? That’s fine.” I rise, guiding her up beside me before dropping my fingers from her jaw and taking her hand. “Maybe it will come to you when we’re in bed.”

“Bed? I thought...” She glances behind her at the blanket folded neatly over the back of the couch.

“We both know this couch isn’t remotely comfortable to sleep on.” I lead her across the office and shut out the light. “I can tell it’s getting to you.”

“But bed?” She hurries to keep up with me.

“Just come upstairs.” Across the kitchen I turn off those lights too, and tug her up the stairs behind me. “It’ll be innocent. We’ll top and tail.”

“Like a sixty-nine?” she asks slyly.

“That isn’t what I meant,” I say.

“Then what? Like children? Like Summer and I used to do?”

“Exactly.” I nod sharply.

“I think maybe I’ll go back to the couch.” She glances over her shoulder into the darkness below. “That’s what I should do.”

“It’s not what you want to do though, is it?” I squeeze her hand and hold it to my chest, drawing her attention. “What you want to do is march up to my room and get in my bed.”

“Why would I want that?” she whispers, her voice cracking.

“Because you belong there.” Turning to face her, I pull her against my chest and wrap my palm around the nape of her neck before I recall how easily she leads me into thoughtless actions. Christ, I want to kiss her though. I want to push her up against the wall of the stairwell with my hand feeling every jerky rise of her tits and the booming of her heart while I bite into that juicy lower lip and show her that I still want her just as much as she wants me. “You know that, right? It’s where you’ve always belonged. Isn’t that what you always told me?”

“That was a long time ago.” Her lip trembles.

“Perhaps.” I shrug as I rub my thumb along the soft edge of her palm. It must be so hard for her to realize what I already know. “You can tell me differently if you want to.”

“I can’t,” she whimpers. “But you said it yourself, you don’t want me. I’m a train wreck. I’m not good for you.”

“I never said I didn’t want you.” I press my finger to her mouth and draw it down her chin. Her throat muscles tense against my touch and her nipples tighten into hard points until they pierce her shirt. Her bottom lip drifts open on a low moan as I continue my descent, dipping over her navel to where the waist of her sweats meets skin. “Couldn’t tell you that. I said we couldn’t do things the way we’ve always done them.”

“Please.” She’s gripping my forearms, her fingers digging into my muscle as she fights for balance. “Don’t touch me, unless you’re really going to touch me. Don’t suggest I sleep in your bed if you can’t stand to be close to me.”

“Do you really think that’s the problem here?” I slide my hand to her belly and press her back against the wall. The concave of her torso pulls in and pushes out with each quick breath. The air catches in my throat, a shockwave blasting me with how much I want to take back the past and give my girl her family that she always said she wanted. There’s no hope of giving up on her now. Like lightning it strikes deep within me. All this time I’ve wasted on trying to date the right women, and be the right guy, and I was only ever going to love this girl. I was only ever going to want what she wanted when I told her she was too young to have it, but it’s too much, too soon. “We need to figure out who we are as a couple. Can we do that? Can you do that?”

“I tried so hard to stay away from you,” she admits.

“I know you did.” Her hair is silk in my fingers as I press my lips to her forehead and breathe in her scent. A lifetime of moments is carried in a smell that’s so familiar it tightens my chest. My heart is on a string that she draws tight and spins. “But you couldn’t.”

“I couldn’t.” Her voice waivers, and then she raises her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I saw you with Mandy. Like really saw you. I could tell how much you liked her.”

“You were jealous?”

“She was taking everything from me. You. Our future. All the things that ever mattered to me.”

I’m shocked by her confession and more certain than ever that I was so wrong when I told her she was too young to tie herself to me. We had everything we needed, and I pushed her into leaving me. I won’t make the same mistake again.

“I hate that I was jealous. Am jealous. She’s my friend. You’re my friend. I didn’t want to hate her for being with you. Especially if it lasted. If you got married, and had babies, or any of those things we used to talk about doing. That’s why I threw myself at Luca. I just wanted to get over you—and the idea of you and her.”

“And instead you got a scandal,” I finish for her.

“Yes.” She exhales, sagging against the wall.

“And a reason to put yourself in my arms one more time.”

“Yes.”

I glide my hand up the cotton of her shirt to cup her breast. Everything about her is locked in my memory. From the flatness of her belly to the weight of each breast in my palm and the way her nipples sit like pale, rose colored buttons on those creamy mounds. They become points under my attention, stabbing at the material as I grip the waist of her sweats and push them down off her hips.

“Please,” she says, gripping my biceps. “I’m trying to do things right, but I don’t think I could handle it if you don’t plan on really touching me.”

I lean in close, so near that our breath mingles, and the warmth of her skin is like electricity on mine. Her lips are my homing beacon, pulling me in like magnets. The tip of her pink tongue slips between them, beckoning, and I take a deep breath before grazing the corner of her mouth. I can’t not touch her. As much as I need her to talk to me, she needs to feel that I mean it when I say I still want her.

I drop to my knees in front of her, my hands gripping her ass and drawing her forward until she’s arched away from the wall. I drag her shirt up, exposing her midriff, and press my lips to that spot below her navel. She shakes like a leaf, her rapid breathing filled with anticipation, though she doesn’t dare look at me.

With one hand, I grasp the waist of her sweats and yank them down over her hips to her knees. The instant I do I’m rock hard and salivating for her. She’s been panty less beneath them this whole time, her pussy bare, pink lips swollen and glistening. The perfume of her arousal fills my senses as I dip my fingers into the wet heat between her legs.

Her shoulders bang against the wall. “Oh God.”

I spike two fingers into her tight hole, thumb her clit. “If I told you this was never to be touched again by anyone but me, what would you say?”

She brings her gaze to mine, huge, lust filled eyes that shine with unsaid emotions. “Please.”

“Please, huh?” I rock forward, bringing my mouth in line with where her clit is hidden from me. I part her soft flesh, hesitate.

“Yes,” she whispers, nodding like her life depends on it. “No one else. Just you. Now. Please.”

“You’ll let me have you? However I want?”

“Yes.” She hisses out a breath that becomes more of a whine. “It’s yours. Take it.”

I press the tip of my tongue to that little nub, barely moving at first. Letting her feel the heat of my mouth on her skin while she cries out in relief. Her wetness pools in my mouth along with my own saliva, her taste as perfect as it was the first time I knelt between her legs. I wiggle my fingers inside her, push deeper to stroke her most sensitive spots while I work my tongue over her clit. Her hips slam against my face, and I force her still, so I can eat her the way I want to. Drawing my fingers from between her legs, I tongue fuck her, lick and suck and bite at her until she’s keening. She’s musical, spurring me on, making me greedy, driving me to bring her to the edge and to push her over it. And when her eyes scrunch tight and her mouth opens to scream from the pleasure, I push her that little bit harder until she shoves at my shoulders to get me to stop.

“No one can do me like you do,” she says, her chest heaving.

She curls her fingers in my hair and doesn’t let go as I get to my feet. Half naked, she presses herself bodily against me, and I put my arms around her and hold her tight. Somehow we got lost along the way, and I don’t know how we’ll find our way back to when we were happy together, but I’ll be damned if I don’t want to try to find the future we lost and make it real this time.

I let her go and swat her ass gently. “Go get in my bed.”