SADIE

I watch Ashton bolt from the table, the haste of his actions making me flinch, startled.

What was his problem?

“I’m not sure why he’s rushing out of here,” Chelsea whispers in my ear. “But I do love to watch him go.”

I scoff at her comment, rounding on her, my words thankfully hidden by my mother’s reappearance with the cake and coffee carafe in her hand. “Are you nuts? I thought we agreed to never speak about Friday again?”

Kelly stays quiet, but Chelsea rolls her eyes. “I wouldn’t have said everything. It’s all fun and games. Relax, will you?”

It’s my turn to roll my eyes, pulling my napkin from my lap and tossing it onto the table. With a brisk smile at my mother, who’s cutting the bakery-worthy cake into slabs big enough to feed an army, I tilt my head toward the living room. “I’m just going to go out to Kelly’ car to get my phone, Mom. I must have left it out there. Besides, it’s stuffy in here, and I need some air. I’ll be right back.”

No one protests, and my steely glare must be clear enough because neither of my friends attempt to follow me.

The air outside is chilly, cutting through my t-shirt and making goosebumps rise on my skin. Rubbing my bare arms with my hands does little to defend myself from it, but I pad down the driveway in my sock-covered feet anyway, pulling the passenger side back door open to search for my phone.

Kelly’s car is a mess. I don’t know how she finds anything in here. For a girl so organized and neat within her own home, the chaos of her car’s interior makes me think she must have some kind of Jekyll and Hyde thing going on.

It’s muffled, but I think I hear the creak of the front door, followed by a faint click as it closes. Perturbed by the effort it’s taking to find my phone, I call out, “I thought I said I’d be right back.” Chelsea never did quite master the art of subtle hints.

But it’s not Chelsea’s voice that meets my ears. “I need to talk to you, Sadie.”

I gasp, mortified by the fact that only my ass and legs are visible from the opened car door, and I’m very, very ungraceful as I crawl backwards out of the backseat, my phone in hand.

“Happy Birthday to you, too.” It’s meant to be a joke, but no humor stares back at me from Ashton’s cool, dark eyes. He looks back toward the house, and his uneasiness stirs something within me. “What’s wrong?”

I’d have found it amusing that he ducks in behind the opened car door—he can’t possibly believe it could hide his broad, muscular body, right?—if his movement didn’t result in him being so close to me that I can smell his cologne, bold and intoxicating as it invades my senses. I’m forced to look up to meet his gaze, pressing my shoulder blades against the car.

“Look, I don’t have a lot of time before someone notices I came out here, but—”

“Why would that matter?”

“Just listen, will you?” he snaps. “I need to know where your friends took you on Friday night.”

Thank God it’s dark outside, leaving only the outdoor light fixture on the front step to illuminate the fast-growing blush that’s rising in my cheeks. “Like hell you do,” I say evenly, immediately regretting it. A defensive answer like that will only result in more red flags being raised.

I side step, planning to go around him and leave him standing there alone, but his arm juts out, propping himself up against the door. “What club did you go to?”

“What’s gotten into you? I haven’t seen you in years, and now suddenly you want—”

“That’s the funny thing about seeing, Sadie. We don’t really need to. I’ve learned something about seeing. If you can’t see, then the rest of your senses become heightened, making you hear and taste and feel more acutely. Did you know that?”

My blood runs cold, and I’m afraid to move. My breath seems to have caught in my throat, strangling me.

“Seems I’ve got your attention now,” Ashton says grimly. “And I know why. Because you did know that. Because you found out on Friday night.”

Somehow, a gasp falls from my lips, and I reach out to grasp the car door for support. Don’t say it , I plead silently. Don’t say what I think you’re saying.

“Because I told you that...on Friday night.” Ashton’s voice is quiet, and I realize that he’s just as humiliated as I am.

Club Sin was supposed to be one night of fun. Of freedom. One secretive night that no one else ever had to know about. This couldn’t possibly have gone more wrong.

“You...” I choke out. “You’re Nash...”

“Ash, actually,” he explains. “But I didn’t think it was a good time to correct you, all things considered.”

Heat flames my face, and I opened my mouth once, twice, giving up on the third time when no words come out.

“I won’t tell anyone, Sadie.” Ashton’s movements are slow, and his index finger touches my chin so lightly I can’t be sure he’s actually touching me until he’s tilting my face gently up. “And I hope you won’t, either. But—”

“But? But what?” My knees are weak beneath me, the fire in his fingertips carries the ghost of all the other touches I’ve experienced with him only days before.

“But...I’m sorry.” His eyes are on me, looking into mine like he can see into the deepest depths within me. “I’m sorry for the way things happened between us...” His teeth bite down on his bottom lip, and the sight ignites something inside me. “...and I’m sorry for this.”

Before I can process what’s happening, Ashton Butler’s mouth is on mine unapologetically, his tongue dancing, warm and wet and delicious, with my own.

A sound comes from somewhere in my throat, but it’s a halfhearted protest at best, and stifled by his kiss.

He pulls away just as suddenly as he descended on me, his eyes a mix of wild and wary, conviction and uncertainty.

“I don’t know why you were there on Friday night, Sadie, and it’s not my place to ask. But, damn it, we can’t change what happened between us. And I don’t want that to be the end of it.”

I stare at him, wide-eyed. “You don’t—”

“I might be at Sin every Friday night, but you need to believe me when I tell you that I’ve never done that before. That I’ve never felt that before. You’re in my head, and I can’t get you out of it.”

I’m dumbfounded by his confession, my mind a minefield of thoughts and emotions just waiting to explode.

“I—I can’t do this,” I stammer, lifting my hands to his chest to push him away. “It was one stupid night. A stupid decision.” I raise my gaze to meet his. “A stupid mistake.”

Ashton steps to the side, and I’m thankful for that. I know damn well I’d never be able to make him move if he didn’t want to.

“It wasn’t a stupid mistake, Sadie.” He sounds like he’s begging me, but I’m not sure what for. “We all do crazy things. But we aren’t kids anymore. Or teenagers, for that matter. That’s just life—day after day of crazy shit that we do, say, or make ourselves believe so we can get through it as adults. But, sometimes, things happen for a reason, Sadie.”

I stare at him for a long moment, and our eye contact only breaks when I become convinced that I see the curtains move in the front window. When I turn, they’re still again, but my paranoia is now running rampantly.

“Sorry, Ash ,” I say. “But this isn’t one of those things.”

Then, I move away from him, aware of the chill once more as the heat from his body dissipates from my skin, and I walk silently back toward the house, just as my mother is opening the door.

“Sadie Rose Mitchell, you’re in just your socks! You’ll catch a cold!”