Love/Hate: The Complete Enemies to Lovers Series
Page 27
She jumps when I knock on the window and then rolls it down. I nod to the engine.
“Car trouble?”
“This fucking piece of shit, I swear…” Her cheeks are bright red, and the frustration is etched on her forehead. I grin.
“Didn’t take you for someone who cussed, Ms. King.”
“Yeah, well, you learn something new every day, don’t you?” The tips of her ears are red, too. She takes a long, deep breath. Finally dragging her eyes back up to me, she sighs. “You got any jumper cables?”
“I’ve got better.” I take out my phone and scroll through my contacts. “I’ll get your car towed and checked by my mechanic.”
“I can’t afford—”
“I’ll take care of it. Come on, I’ll drive you home.” I put my phone to my ear. “James, hi. Liam Maguire here.” Explaining the issue to my mechanic, I watch as Ashley hesitates and finally relents. She slides out of her car and leans against the driver’s side door until I hang up the phone.
“Tow truck will be here in fifteen minutes. They’ll do a full check of your car and should have it back to you by Monday.”
“Liam, I—” she sighs. “Thank you.” Her eyes narrow and she crosses her arms. “You got some white knight complex, or something? Love a damsel in distress?”
“What, I can’t just do a nice thing for my new employee?”
“From what I’ve read about you, you’re not exactly the type.”
“So you’ve been reading about me,” I grin.
“You’ve obviously read up on me. I’m just following your lead.”
“Ah, but you shouldn’t believe everything you read,” I say, leaning in toward her. A waft of her sweet perfume fills my nose and for a moment, I forget myself.
Her tongue slides out to lick her lips and for the second time today, an almost undeniable urge to crush my lips against hers takes over.
“Come to my parents’ anniversary party with me,” I hear myself say. Ashley’s eyes widen.
“What?”
“They want me to bring someone that I haven’t met at a nightclub.”
“Well, technically…”
“Technically we met at an industry event.”
Her eyes flash. She sucks her lip between her teeth in that way that drives me wild, and her hand moves to smooth down her hair. She glances at me, frowning.
“What’s your angle, here?”
“My angle?”
“This morning, I thought you wanted to fuck me.” I did. “Then, you wouldn’t even look at me, and you were asking all kinds of weird questions.” I still wanted to fuck you. “And now, you’re being really nice about my car but you want me to, what, pretend to be your girlfriend?”
“Just my date.”
“Right. Well, it’s still weird.”
“So that’s a yes?”
“Are you sure you’re alright? Like… in the head?”
That makes me laugh. I shake my head, still chuckling. “No, I don’t think I am. I’m very fucked up in the head.”
“Well, I can’t hold that against you,” she sighs, pushing herself off the car and staring down the street. She crosses her arms over her chest. “I am, too.”
I follow her gaze and we stand in silence until the tow truck comes. We watch it take her car away, and then I lead her toward my own car. I resist the urge to put my hand on her lower back and to open the door for her. We drive in silence, interspersed with a few words when she directs me toward her house.
When I stop outside, she pauses before opening the door. She glances at me curiously.
“Why do you want me to go with you to your parents’ thing?”
I grunt and shrug. “I guess I like your company.”
“You have a funny way of showing it.”
“So you’ll come?”
“I’ll think about it. See you on Monday.”
I wait until she’s inside her building before driving away with a big grin on my face.
17
Ashley
My head spins all through the weekend. I resist the temptation to text Liam, and instead distract myself with a night out with Red and her friends. Becky comes along, and she tells me how much she misses me in the office. That makes me feel validated, but nothing else. I’m glad I got fired. Benji seems to get the message that I’m not interested, and I’m grateful for it.
Even though this week has been crazy, in a way it feels like a reward for all the therapy and the work I did to get myself back to normal after Randy died.
The relationship was traumatic, his death was traumatic, and the loss of my own sense of self was traumatic. Now, I have new friends, a new job… and a new date, I guess.
I’m hungover on Sunday, but even that is a better feeling than the depth of depression and numbness that I lived with for years with Randy. I roll over and check my phone to see a text from my sister.
Stella: Coffee today? I want to hear about the new job… and the new boss