I roll my eyes. “I listen to you all the time, but you always tall so riddle-y.”
“I’m the one who talks riddle-y?” he questions. “That’s not even a word.”
“It’s totally a word,” I quip with a smirk.
His grin mirrors mine. “You, lovely girl, keep me on my toes.” He pushes the shifter into park, shuts off the engine, and pulls the keys out of the ignition. "So what'd you say? Can we have an awesome get-together tonight at your house? I promise I’ll be on my best behavior. In fact, I won’t even light up there.” He pauses. “I’ll walk over to Maxon’s property to do it.”
“Whatever. You can smoke at my house. Lucky does it all the time.” I pause, considering what he wants. “Who are we going to invite?”
“Well, you, obviously.” He winks at me, and I roll my eyes. His grin widens. “And Maxon, of course, since you two are basically attached at the hip these days. Then there’s Clarissa, Kinslee, and Huntley. And we can’t forget the best person—me.” He dazzles me with a toothy grin, and I can’t help smiling back. “And then I was thinking maybe Ava.”
I struggle not to frown, but damn, it’s difficult.
“It’d be a good chance for you two to get to know each other,” he stresses. “And I’m sure she’d appreciate it, being the new girl and all. And she probably doesn’t have any friends yet.”
I really, really don’t want to invite her, but I don’t want to say no either, especially considering only a little over a month ago, I knew what it felt like to be completely friendless.
“Okay, I guess we can invite her,” I say, trying to sound as upbeat about it as possible, but I may have missed the mark.
"I promise that eventually you two will like each other," Clove assures me, patting my leg. "Ava is nice, and you're you, so…you.” He shrugs.
My brows dip. “What do you mean by, I’m me?”
He trades an amused look with Maxon. “You want to handle this one? Or should I?”
I expect Maxon to be as perplexed as I am, but when I glance at him, he looks as amused as Clove.
“What is it?” I ask, feeling self-conscious.
He smiles at me while lightly tugging on a strand of my hair. “You remember the blue morpho butterfly conversation we had?”
I nod, getting a little giddy inside as I recall the time Maxon compared me to this really rare, beautiful butterfly that artists will travel long distances just for a chance to see one. He said I had the same kind of allure as them.
“Well, that’s what Clove was getting at,” he explains. “That you’re too alluring and beautiful and sweet for Ava not to eventually like you.”
Those butterflies that have been continuously living inside my stomach for the last month go mad crazy. "That’s the second time you’ve called me beautiful this morning.”
His cheeks slightly flush. “That’s because you are.”
“And on that note, I’m gonna get out of the car before you two start making out again,” Clove announces, pushing open the door. But then he pauses, glancing back at me. “So are you cool with the get-together tonight?”
I mostly am except for the whole Ava thing, but since he clearly wants to invite her, I suck it up and be the good friend these guys have taught me how to be.
“Yeah, sure,” I say, hoping upon hoping Clove and Maxon are right and that Ava will eventually like me.
Maybe then, she’ll stop flirting with my boyfriend.
3
Ashlynn
After I agree to have the get-together, we head inside to get our snacks. As soon as we get out of the car, Maxon slips his fingers through mine, only letting go to hold the door open for me. But the moment we walk in, he takes my hand again.
I love how sweet he is, and I’m still not used to it; Knox was the kind of guy who was too self-center to pay that much attention to me.
“I’m thinking of mixing it up this morning,” I say when we reach the slushy machine.
“Really?” Maxon says as he grabs a large cup and hands it to me before grabbing one for himself. “What flavor are you thinking?”
“Maybe cherry. Although, that kind of seems boring.” I tap my finger against my lips as I assess the selection. “Orange seems blah. And while the cola option sounds awesome, the brown color makes me wanna gag.”
Maxon chuckles, his eyes crinkling around the corners. “You know that only leaves blue, right?”
“Yeah… I guess blue it is then.” I stick the cup underneath the nozzle and begin filling it up while throwing Maxon a grin.
Instead of grinning back, he leans forward and brushes his lips against mine. "You want to tell me the real reason you don't want to have Ava over tonight?" he asks after he slightly pulls back.
“There really isn’t one.” I kiss him because his lips are right there and it makes me feel better inside.
“Ash.” He leans back and caresses my cheek with his knuckles. “I can tell there’s been something bothering you since we talked to Ava.”
Great. He can read me too well. How is that possible? I mean, we’ve only known each other for a month. But I guess we’ve both been kind of secretly watching each other for years.
“It just kind of felt like she was flirting with you this morning.” I let go of the handle as my cup gets filled to the brim. “And while I totally get why she would, from my past experiences, girls who flirt with other girl’s boyfriends, especially right in front of them, are trying to cause drama.”
Shaking his head, he moves to fill up his cup. “I don’t really think she was flirting with me. She was just being friendly.”
I put a lid on my cup and stick a straw in it. “No, she was totally flirting with you, which like I said, I totally get—you’re freakin’ sweet and smart and hot.”
He rolls his eyes, blushing a bit. “I’m not hot.”
Now I’m the one to roll my eyes. "No, you really are, especially when you take off your shirt and mow the lawn," I say the latter absentmindedly, and only realize it when he gives me a puzzled look.
“When have you seen me mow the lawn without my shirt on?” he asks, putting a lid on his cup.
“Um…” I debate whether or not to lie to him. But I made a promise not to do that to him again, so… “Remember how I said I used to watch you sometimes through your bedroom window while you were working on your science experiments?”
He nods, sticking a straw into his cup. “Yeah.”
“Well, I also may have occasionally watched you while you mowed lawns around the neighborhood. And sometimes, you’d take your shirt off.” I shrug. “That was my favorite part.”
He shakes his head, his cheeks pink. “You seriously have no filter sometimes.”
“Sorry,” I say. “It’s kind of a bad habit.”
“No, it’s not. It’s part of what makes you you, and while you do often embarrass the hell out of me, I like that part of you.” He smiles at me, his cheeks still a bit flushed. “But I really don’t get why you think I’m hot. I’m glad you do, though.”
“Of course I think you’re hot, silly. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have basically stalked you for years,” I tell him. When he just nods, I add. “I know I dated Knox, but honestly I was never attracted to him like I am to you. I think deep down I knew he wasn’t my type.”
“A lot of girls would probably think you’re crazy for saying that.”
“Well, a lot of girls like that preppy, douchey, overly muscular look. But I prefer the cloudy eyes, tall, dark-haired, and lean chest look." I put my hand on his abs, pretending to prove a point when really I just want to touch him. "And I love the way you dress. But my favorite part is who you are.”
A soft breath falters from his lips as I splay my fingers across the outside of his shirt, right across his stomach. “Sometimes I worry I’m going to wake up and realize that this dream machine Clove and I once tried to build really did end up working and the last month has just been me living in a dream.”
And there go tho
se butterflies again.
“And that’s another reason why I like you.” I stand on my tiptoes to lightly place a kiss on his lips.
But the kiss ends up lasting longer than I planned as he parts my lips with his tongue and slips his free hand around to my back, pressing me closer.
We kiss, our tongues tangling, as we stand in front of the slushy machine. My hands start to wander, taking on a mind of their own as they slip underneath the hem of his shirt and brush along his lean abs.
While we've spent a lot of time kissing since we started dating, we've never taken things very far. Go figure, I decide to get a feel of those abs I spent a ton of time ogling while we’re standing in front of the slushy machine.
Not that I care enough to pull my hand back.
Maxon must think the same thing too because he shivers then deepens the kiss.
“Good God, I’m seriously gonna get you two a room for Maxon’s birthday,” Clove gripes, ruining the moment.
Maxon and I pull back, breathing raggedly, our lips a bit swollen.
Maxon narrows his eyes at Clove. “You really do get off on embarrassing me, don’t you?”
Clove gives an exaggerated nod. "I really do." He gives Maxon's shoulder a pat. "Maybe on a top of getting you a room for your birthday, I'll give you a break from me embarrassing your ass." He gives a thoughtful pause. "Nah, there's no way I'd ever be able to keep my mouth shut for an entire day."
I snort a laugh. “For sure.”
Clove’s eyes narrow at me, but his lips quirk with amusement. “Keep it up, lovely girl, and you won’t get anything from me for your birthday.”
I fidget with the straw in my cup. “That’s fine. My birthday’s not even for like ten months anyway.”
A crease forms between Clove’s brows. “So you’re eighteen?”
I nod. “Yep, I’m officially an adult.”
“Me too.” He sticks out his hand for a fist bump. Smiling, I tap my knuckles against his. “You and I should hit up an eighteen and older club, and you can leave the old ball and chain home since he can't get in yet." He tosses Maxon a smirk.
“No way. I don’t go anywhere without my ball and chain. It’s way too pretty.” I smile at Maxon, and he shakes his head, a small smile touching his lips.
“Well, pretty or not, Max still has about another week before he can go clubbing with the adults,” Clove tells me, slanting back against the shelf behind him.
“Wait… Your birthday’s next week?” I ask Maxon. When he nods, I jut out my lip. “How did I not know this? I’m seriously the worst girlfriend ever.”
“No, you’re not,” Max assures me. “You’re perfect.”
“That’s not true at all,” I insist. “But I am going to find you the most perfect present ever.”
“You don’t need to get me anything,” Maxon says, suddenly seeming sad about something.
“I know I don’t need to, but I want to.” Smiling, I kiss his cheek.
He smiles back but still looks sad. "We should probably get going, or else we're going to be late." He starts toward the front counter without saying anything else.
“What did I say that upset him?” I frown, glancing at Clove.
Clove sighs. “Max isn’t a fan of his birthday. Kinslee and I have been trying for years to get him to confess why, but he’s never told us.” He gives a contemplative pause. “You, though, you might be able to get him to open up about it.”
“I doubt that,” I say with a sigh.
Because if there's one thing I've learned about Maxon, it's that he won't open up until he's ready to.
“Maybe, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.” He pushes away from the shelf and starts toward the front counter, signaling for me to follow him.
“I’ll try, but I really doubt he will.” I snatch a bag of licorice from off the shelf as we pass by the candy selection.
“When you try you should make sure to kiss him a lot.” He flashes me a grin.
“No thanks. Not that I don’t like kissing him,” I say. “But I don’t want to use kissing to manipulate him.”
“Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” Clove remarks. “And it might help if you stick your hand up his shirt again.” The corners of his lips twitch. “And it might not hurt to stick your other hand down his p—”
“Hey,” I cut him off, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t be a pervert.”
“I was going to say down his pumps and tickle his feet, because he really likes that,” he continues, giving me an innocent look. “Jeez, Ash, what the heck did you think I was going to say?”
“What you were really going to say.” I give him a playful dirty look.
He chuckles as we reach Maxon, who’s already set his slushy down on the counter. He takes one look at mine and Clove’s expressions and his brows furrow.
“What’re those looks about?” he asks then pauses. “Or do I not want to know?”
“You don’t want to know,” I tell him as he reaches to take the slushy and licorice from my hands. Before he can grab them, I step back out of his reach. “I can pay for mine today.”
Shaking his head, he snatches the candy and slushy out of my hand.
“Hey,” I gripe, reaching to grab them back.
But he hurries and puts them on the counter then him and Clove stand side by side, blocking my way.
Clove starts chatting with the cashier girl, something he does almost every morning. But that’s just Clove. He chats with almost everyone.
“Why do we have to do this every time?” I complain, putting my hands on my hips. “I need to start paying for my own junk food.”
Maxon places some cash onto the counter then turns toward me. “The only reason you’re getting any of this is because Clove and I stop here every morning.”
“Yeah, so? I still eat the candy and drink the slushy, which means I should pay for it.”
“But you wouldn’t even buy any of it if it weren’t for us.”
“Yeah, I know.” My chest aches a bit as his words strike a nerve.
If it weren’t for them, I’d be riding the bus to school and probably eating lunch in a bathroom stall.
“So let me buy it for you,” Maxon continues on while collecting his change from off the counter.
“I can’t let you pay every morning, It’s not right.” I cross my arms and give him my best I’m being serious look.
“Yes, it is.” He stuffs his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans while smiling at me amusedly. “You’re adorable when you try to act tough.”
My lips part in shock. “Hey, I am tough.”
Clove snickers. “Ha, you’re about as tough as a kitten. And you trying to act tough is about as…” He dithers. “Well, as cute as a kitten.”
I glare at him then crack my knuckles. “I am tough. And if you don’t knock all this cute stuff off, I’m going to prove it to you.
Clove and Maxon trade a look then Clove busts up laughing.
“That was cute.” He walks past me and pats me on the head.
I scowl at him, but he just keeps on smiling as he pushes out the door.
I look back at Maxon, totally pouting. “Do I really look that wimpy?”
Maxon offers me a reassuring smile. “You don’t look wimpy, and it’s not that we think you’re a wimp, it’s just that…” He gives a short, contemplative pause. “You’re funny and your sweet and you joke around a lot and… You’re not really the kind of girl that’s going to go around picking fights.”
I smash my lips together as guilt weighs on my shoulders. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve felt it and I haven’t missed it at all. “I think you’re forgetting how I was for the past six or seven years.”
He skims his thumb along my cheekbone. “Even when you were friends with Queeny, you didn’t pick fights.”
“Maybe not any fist fights,” I mutter. “But I did cause trouble for a lot of people. I was just sneaky about it.”
“Maybe so,” he agrees. “But that’s not wh
o you really were. I could always tell that.”
"Well, then you must have magical eyes because there were a lot of times where I couldn't see it."
“That’s because you were caught up in the drama, but I think deep down, you always felt a bit guilty for what you were doing. There’s no way you could be you without that being true.”
I press my lips together, giving myself a beat, or else I might start crying like a baby. He's right, and it makes me feel all shaky inside that he knows that—knows me. “Thank you for seeing the good in me.”
“It’s not that hard to see,” he tells me. “Especially now.”
Feeling all gooey and warm inside, I kiss him on the cheek again. “Thank you for saying that.”
"I'm just telling the truth." He hands me my slushy and licorice then picks up his own. Then we leave the store with our fingers laced together.
Maxon doesn’t say anything else until we reach Clove’s car where Clove is waiting for us with the engine running and some 80s punk rock cranked up.
“Took you guys long enough,” he remarks as Maxon opens the door.
I move to get inside, but Maxon folds his fingers around my arm.
“About me getting weird over my birthday.” He lets go of my arm and scratches at the back of his neck while staring at the ground. “I’m sorry I just kind of walked off, but I’m just…” He blows out an exhale and glances up at me. “I’m just not a fan of my birthday so if you could, just please don’t get me anything. Clove will probably try to encourage you to, and he means well but…” For the strangest moment, fear flashes in his eyes. But he quickly erases the look. “I’d really appreciate it if you’d treat it like any other day.”
While I really want to celebrate it because I love birthdays, I can tell he means what he says.
“Okay, I will.” I bite on my bottom lip. “Is everything okay, though?”
“Yeah, of course.” He quickly puts on a smile, but his eyes remain haunted. “I’m just not a fan of celebrations or getting presents.”
I get the feeling he’s not being completely honest with me, but I decide to let it go for now, knowing it won’t do any good to press. But I make a mental note to one day get to the bottom of why he looks so sad right now.
The Simplicity in Ordinary: (The Heartbreaker Society, #2) Page 3