Mom looks downright offended. “Why not? How are your grades?”
“They’re not terrible, but they’re not straight As either,” he answers.
“What are they then?” Mom asks.
“Mostly Bs. I always manage a few As in the easy classes. Freshman year I got a C in math because that shit is hard.” He sends Mom a remorseful look. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Look, Ash, I think you should try to apply to some colleges. With your sports ability and grades, you could probably get accepted to a few state colleges. Maybe you could even get a scholarship,” Mom says.
“I don’t know about that,” he starts, but Mom shakes her head, silencing him.
“Go to the office tomorrow and meet with a counselor. Get your transcripts and bring them home so we can go over them. My gut is telling me you could get in somewhere. You still have time to apply.”
He smiles when Mom said bring them home. I’m sure he liked that.
I sort of like it too. That my parents have so readily accepted him. If you’d told me Asher Davis would be staying with us a few days ago, I would’ve laughed. I also would’ve freaked.
But having him here has drawn us closer together. It’s also helped us be honest with each other. For once.
“I’d love to get out of here, that’s for sure,” he mutters.
My heart aches for him. Now that I’ve seen where he comes from, I understand somewhat why he acts the way he does. Why he’s so self-destructive. He needs someone to believe in him. Like my mom. Like me.
I want to be that person.
If he’ll let me.
We’re all roped into helping Mom clean the kitchen, and somehow I got put on dishwashing duty with Ash. He rinses the dishes and I set them in the dishwasher, and we wash the remaining pots and pans Mom prefers to be cleaned by hand. I don’t understand the point of a dishwasher if it can’t wash all your dishes, but whatever.
“I ended it,” Ash says conversationally as he hands me a plate.
It nearly slips from my fingers when I hear what he said. “With Rylie?”
He nods as he goes to rinse another plate. “I told her we couldn’t hang out anymore, and she took it fairly well. When I say fairly well, I mean she cried and begged me to give her another chance, over and over. I finally had to end the call.”
We’re all alone in the kitchen, which means we can talk about this freely.
I set the plate he hands me into the dishwasher. “That’s awful.” I didn’t want her to be hurt over it, but what did I expect? She cares about him. I get it.
But I think he cares about me more.
“It’s done, and I’m glad. I only hung out with her because no one else interested me, and she was there. Eager and willing.”
My stomach sinks. Eager and willing to do what, exactly?
I don’t want to know.
Yes, I do.
“But she wasn’t you.” His voice is so quiet, I almost didn’t hear him. “None of them were you.”
“How many of them were there?” Oh, I am wanting to feel pain right now, aren’t I? Asking a question like that?
“Not many. None you need to worry about.”
Those poor girls, used by Asher Davis.
Is he going to do the same to me?
“You’re thinking too much,” he teases, and I sigh, unsure of what to say.
Ash leans over and turns off the water, then scoots closer to me, so close I can feel his body heat radiating toward me. “You doubt everything I say.”
“We’ve always had this weird back-and-forth relationship,” I remind him.
“You’re the one who always pushes me away,” he reminds me back.
He’s got me there.
“You going to wear a skimpy bikini for me tonight, Callahan?” He briefly touches my cheek, and I want more, just like that. I’m like a parched traveler in an endless desert.
“You going to skinny dip for me, Davis?” I return. I might own two-piece swimsuits, but I never feel totally comfortable in them.
“I can make that happen.” He’s grinning and nodding, and he looks like a dork. A cute, injured dork. “Definitely.”
“Hey.” I rest my hand on his chest, and he goes completely still. As if the center of the universe is where we’re connected. “Please be—gentle with me. I’m a little slower paced than you, I think.”
“Slower paced? What are you—ohhhh.” He draws the word out and rests his hand over mine, squeezing it. “I’m not going to push you into anything you don’t want to do.”
“Promise?”
“I swear.”
“What are you guys talking about?”
We both turn to find Beck standing in the kitchen, watching us, his Spider-Man dangling from his fingers and about ready to fall to the floor.
I disentangle myself from Ash’s grip and face Beck. “Why aren’t you with Mom?” I ask my little brother. After dinner is when they usually hang out on the couch and watch TV so Beck gets his daily snuggle time. Really it’s snuggle time for Mom, since none of us do that with her anymore, and I know it makes her sad, that she’s down to her last one. So she squeezes on him as much as she can.
“She’s too busy hugging on Daddy.” Beck makes a face, like he’s disgusted. “Like you’re hugging on him.” He waves Spider-Man at Ash.
“We’re not hugging on each other,” I tell Beck, smiling at him. The last thing I want is my brother to say something like that to our parents. “We’re just friends.”
“Uh huh. I need to go find Mom. Mom!” Beck takes off, leaving the kitchen as fast as he came in.
“Your brother is cute,” Ash says when I turn to face him once more.
“He’s a pain. They all are,” I tell him, and he slowly shakes his head, his expression…raw.
“You don’t know how lucky you got it, Callahan. The big family. Parents who love you, who love each other. It doesn’t matter if your dad has money or not, or that he’s some big-time football player. None of that matters—he loves his family, and he loves his wife. Knowing that, you’re so secure in it, you’re downright smug.”
My mouth pops open. “I don’t think I’m smug.”
“You’re so smug you don’t even see it, and that’s the best part of it all. You’re so fucking lucky. My dad loved me more than anything else, and then he died. And once he was gone, my mom didn’t give a shit anymore. Not about anything. Definitely not about me.” Ash reaches out and trails his fingers down the length of my arm, making me shiver. “I’m not insulting you, Callahan. I’m reminding you that you have a pretty kick-ass family, and they love you. Don’t ever forget it.”
We’re standing in my dimly light kitchen having one of the most serious conversations ever, and I know I will never forget this moment. This night. This entire day. And I’m not even including what’s going to happen later.
That’ll just be the icing on the cake.
“You and Ash seem to be getting along well.”
I turn to find Mom leaning against the doorframe of my bedroom. I’m sitting at my desk, working on homework, desperate to finish so I can take a quick shower, put on light makeup, throw on my favorite two-piece swimsuit beneath my usual sleep clothes and meet Ash out under the stars at eleven.
I’ll have to suck in my stomach and stick out my chest to distract him from that extra roll I’ve got going on, but he’ll probably be too entranced by my boobs to notice.
Hopefully.
“It’s—better between us,” I tell her.
Soooo much better.
She walks in my bedroom, and I hope she doesn’t stay long. I love her, and I appreciate our close relationship, but right now, I don’t want to chat with her. I already feel like I’ve been sneaking around these last few days since Ash arrived. Guilt is something I don’t quite know how to deal with, and I’m feeling plenty of it at the moment.
“I know you took him to his place this afternoon.” She settles on the edge of my bed and I turn to face
her, trying to come up with ways to deny what she just said. “Don’t bother trying to give me some lame excuse. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
“Mom,” I start, but words fail me.
“I’m not mad. Well, I am a little. That could’ve been so unsafe. What if that asshole was still at Ash’s apartment? Or his mom? She would’ve called the police and then what do you think would’ve happened?”
I remain mute and just let her talk.
“It would’ve been a nightmare, that’s what.” Mom shakes her head. “Next time ask me, okay?”
“Okay.” I’m so relieved I’m not in trouble, I have to ask the next question. “How did you find out?”
“Ash. He told me he went and picked up his stuff earlier. When I asked him how he got there, he panicked and made up some outrageous story about a couple of friends coming to pick him up here and taking him to his apartment. This is the boy who didn’t want anyone to know where he was, by the way. I put two and two together, and figured out it had to be you,” Mom says, that familiar, knowing look crossing her face.
None of us are able to pull anything over on my mom, for the most part. She is all knowing. I’m thinking I can pull one over her tonight, though. My parents are in bed usually by ten. By eleven, they’re sleeping.
By eleven-fifteen, I should be in the hot tub with a mostly naked Ash.
I can’t wait.
“Just…be careful with him,” Mom says. “Troubled souls are hard to fix.”
There are so many things I want to say. But I can’t. To say those things would reveal my true feelings, and I’m not ready to examine them yet. Let alone have someone like my mother examine them.
“Troubled souls also just need someone to love them sometimes. Someone to believe in them when they already feel so defeated.” Mom’s gaze grows distant and a tiny smile curls her lips. “Your father was like that.”
My father has always seemed perfect in every single way. It’s Mom who went through the rough childhood, or so I thought. “He was a troubled soul?”
“Very much so,” Mom says with a nod. “A big ol’ mess, truthfully. But I stuck it out. I told him how I felt, and even though he ran away from me for a while, he eventually came back to me, and I took him back, because I knew he was worth it. I wasn’t complete without him. We’ve been together ever since.”
“Someday you’ll have to tell me the entire story.”
“Someday, when you’re older, I will. I’ll share every excruciating detail with you, including the time your Uncle Owen punched your dad in the mouth and knocked him to the ground.” Mom laughs. “Oh, that was a surprise.”
“Uncle Owen punched Dad?” I’m in shock.
Mom nods, still laughing. “He deserved it.”
There is so much more to my parents than I even know.
Maybe I don’t want to know.
Her words stick with me, though. How she wasn’t complete without him. Is that what it’s like, when you love someone, when you find your forever? That you don’t feel whole unless they’re with you?
It sort of feels like that with Ash. Maybe that’s why I’ve been drawn to him for so long. I can’t say that I’m in love with him, because I still don’t feel like I know him that well, but I can say without a doubt that we definitely have a connection, and it’s not one sided.
He feels it too.
We feel it together.
Twenty-Three
The cool mountain air makes me shiver as I dart across the expanse of green lawn toward the opposite side of the pool, where the in-ground hot tub is. The pool is dark, but the moon is mostly full, casting its silver-white glow upon the backyard. I can hear the water bubbling and swirling in the Jacuzzi, and as I draw closer, I see Ash sitting there.
Waiting for me.
Watching me.
I stop just at the edge of the tub, kicking off my flip-flops, tugging on the hem of my T-shirt. How am I supposed to do this? Just whip off the shirt and toss it on the ground, then step into the hot tub with confidence? I mean, that’s what I want to do, that’s what I envision. But I’m not sure if I can pull that off…
“Callahan, what are you doing?”
I blink Ash into focus to see he’s watching me with confusion. “I don’t know. You make me nervous.”
He flicks water in my direction, wetting my feet. “You make me nervous too. Especially when you stand there and stare off into space. Now come on. Get in here.”
Deciding I have nothing to lose, I tear off my T-shirt just as I envisioned only a moment ago and daintily step into the hot tub, gasping when the steamy water laps around my ankles, then my knees when I take another step. I stand on the bench seat, trying to work up the courage to submerge myself neck-deep in the water when I catch Ash whistling low, his gaze sliding over me.
“Damn, girl, you are hot as fuck.”
I burst out laughing and duck myself fully into the water, more gasps escaping me as the steamy water licks at my skin. “More like the water is hot as fuck.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “I’m trying to give you sexy compliments and you’re making jokes.”
“How can I take you seriously when you say things like sexy compliments?”
He’s grinning. He looks so cute, despite the wounds. Maybe the wounds add a certain appeal, which means I’m weird, but I don’t care. I think Ash is pretty weird too. “You are definitely unexpected.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You keep me on my toes, Callahan.” He somehow finds my hand under the water and pulls me closer, so we’re pressed next to each other, side by side. “I never know what you’re going to say or do.”
“I feel the same exact way about you.” I turn so I can really look at him, our thighs pressed together. He stretches an arm along the rock edge that surrounds the Jacuzzi, and I lean into him, my shoulder pressing gently against his chest. “This water is so hot.”
“Give it a few minutes. You’ll get used to it.” He squirms a little, making the water slosh around us. “I think it feels good.”
“Is it helping ease your pain?”
Smiling, he taps the tip of my nose with his finger. “You’re helping ease my pain, I know that.”
I lean my head back against his arm and stare up at the starry night sky. When I was younger and we lived near San Francisco, I don’t remember ever seeing the stars. The sky was obliterated by city lights.
But out here, in the middle of nowhere, the sky is a black velvet background studded by twinkling lights. The occasional plane. A racing satellite or two. Even with the shining moon, which typically drowns out the stars, I can still see them tonight.
“The sky is so beautiful,” I say on a sigh, letting the water keep me buoyant. My butt rises off the seat and I stretch my legs out in front of me, kicking my feet a little.
“You’re so beautiful,” Ash whispers close to my temple before he drops a kiss there. My heart squeezes at the sweet gesture. “And it’s like you’re trying to tease me right now.”
“I’m not trying to tease you.” I kick my feet again, harder this time, water splashing everywhere.
“With these you are.” He reaches around me to touch my chest, which is above the water. He lightly traces his index finger up the length of my cleavage, leaving me breathless.
“I didn’t mean to,” I say softly.
“Hmmmmmm.” He runs his finger back and forth, back and forth, drawing closer to the right edge of my bikini top. Just the tip of his finger slips beneath the damp fabric, and I bite back the moan that suddenly wants to escape.
No boy has ever made me moan before. Like, ever.
“Maybe you should take this off,” he whispers.
I use my weight to settle my butt back on the bench seat, my feet firmly planted on the bottom of the Jacuzzi. Turning, I face him once more. Our gazes meet, our mouths so close it would only take a fraction of an inch for us to make contact.
“You’re moving so fast,” I tell him, nerves e
ating at my insides.
He frowns. “Too fast?” He touches my cheek, shifting close to drop a kiss on my lips. “I’ll stop if you want me to.”
“I don’t want to stop. Just…” I smile and shake my head. “I’m being silly.”
“You’re never silly.” He kisses me again, though he doesn’t touch me with his hands, and something churns deep within me, making me want more.
He always makes me want more.
“Maybe I should take it off,” I say once he breaks away from my lips. “You don’t think my parents will catch us, do you?”
“Nah, didn’t you say they’re in bed by ten? It’s gotta be past eleven-thirty now,” Ash says reassuringly. “You sure you wanna take that off?”
Leave it to Ash to bring us back to the task at hand. “It’s only fair,” I say with a shrug.
“You’re right. I’m topless.” He waves at his bare chest and I stare at it, transfixed by the water bubbling against his skin. “You should be topless too.”
Swallowing hard, I reach behind my neck and undo the tie with a few gentle tugs, then remove my bikini top completely. His eyes never leave mine as I drop the top onto the hot tub’s edge, and then his hands are right there, cupping the sides of my breasts, his gaze sliding to my mouth.
“So beautiful,” he whispers just before his lips capture mine once more. I kiss him back eagerly, a hum sounding low in my throat when his hands start moving, caressing my skin, his thumbs drifting across my nipples. Our tongues meet and twist, and then I’m climbing on top of him like I always do, my knees resting on the bench seat on either side of his hips, my arms circled around his neck, my bare breasts flush against his chest. The skin-on-skin contact does something to me, and I rub against him without restraint, going on pure instinct.
“Fuck, I love it when you do that,” he mutters against my throat as he kisses me there. His hands are wandering, fingers gliding over my butt, slipping beneath my bikini bottoms. I can feel him between my legs—he’s so hard—and angle myself so I can hit that particular spot again and again.
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