by Aly Martinez
A plea I could more than oblige.
Sitting up, I grazed my teeth over the flesh, repeating the process on the other breast. She moaned, dropping her chin to her chest to watch as I laved in circles. Her fingers once again threaded into my hair as she rocked against my cock. Dropping a hand to her ass, I guided her into an agonizing rhythm that had us both whispering reverent curses.
Why in God’s name were there two pairs of jeans between us?
“Fuck,” I groaned.
Reaching down to her button in order to remedy the situation, I heard Judy’s voice from the other side of the door. “Um, Ash, I’m not sure what you’re doing, but please be mindful that I eat my lunch in that room.”
Then I heard Till say, “Would you leave them alone? Get away from the door.”
I dropped my head to her chest, furious that I finally had her and we were being interrupted. And even more frustrated that we were on the cold floor of a homeless shelter.
Just as I started to let out an angry curse, a laugh bubbled from Ash’s throat.
It was real.
And beautiful.
And so much better than I remembered.
It was everything.
But really it was just her.
“I need to get you home and into my bed.” I laughed, folding my arms around her and tugging her down on top of me. Her naked breasts pressed against me as she continued to laugh in my ear.
A wave of nostalgia crashed over me, only soothed by the promise of a future where Ash laughing happened every day. A future I would give her, and in turn, selfishly keep for myself.
Her laugh slowly faded away as she picked up our shirts, dropping mine on my chest.
“Soooo . . . ,” she drawled awkwardly.
“Soooo . . . ,” I mimicked, tugging on my shirt.
“It was really good seeing you again,” she said dismissively.
She really was a funny girl, because if she thought for one second after that little sample of us together that I was letting her go, she was kidding herself. She was coming home with me. Of that I was sure.
“Yeah, you too.” I chuckled, using my one of my crutches to climb back to my feet. “So Till packed your stuff. I’ll give you a few minutes to say goodbye.”
She twisted her mouth, and smarted off. “Umm . . . okay. Goodbye, Flint.”
I ignored her. “Let me know when you’re ready to leave.”
“I’m not leaving. You are leaving.”
“Right. So, yeah . . . not happening. Here’s how this is going to go down. Tonight we’re finishing what you just started.”
“I didn’t start that!”
I gave her a knowing smirk. “You got my name tattooed on your body.”
“No. I got a piece of flint tattooed on my body.” She crossed her arms over her chest in a show of attitude that had me growing hard all over again.
I stalked toward her, fully expecting her to back away, but she held her ground. She just didn’t understand it was my ground she was standing on.
I brushed her hair off her neck, carefully dragging the tips of my fingers over her skin.
“Oh, I’m gonna give you more than just a piece of Flint, Ash. In my bed. Tonight. I’m gonna show every inch of that body how much I’ve missed you. Then, when we wake up in the morning, I’m going to fuck you until I’m done being mad at you. Then I’m taking you on a date, and then we are figuring out the getting back together part.” I winked and her mouth gaped open.
“I should really take off right now,” she whispered, but swayed toward me, dropping her head to my chest.
“You’re leaving with me.”
“You don’t understand,” she whined.
“So you keep saying.” I kissed the top of her head. “Just give me a few days. Let me apologize and explain the things I said to you. If you want nothing to do with me, I’ll bring you back.”
“I don’t know.” She wrapped her arms around my waist.
“Well, I do. I can make this right, Ash. You just have to trust me.”
“I, um. . . .”
“Just try.” I leaned away and looked down into her innocent blue eyes. “And stop stealing my fucking wallet.”
Her arms fell away and she let out an exaggerated huff. “Fine. You have two days.” She backed up, slapping the wallet against my chest. “But I’m still calling you Wheels; I don’t care if you are walking.”
“I can live with that.” I laughed.
She was back.
And suddenly, so was I.
Chapter Twenty
Ash
I COULDN’T DECIDE IF LEAVING with Flint was the best or worst decision I had ever made. On one hand, I couldn’t deny the fact that I wanted him on practically every level. On the other, I didn’t trust him to feel the same way. And I had so little in life that even trust wasn’t something I could afford to giveaway. But back on that first hand, I wanted him so much, I could give him two days then torture myself with the memories for years to come. I’d figure a way to survive.
After voicing my displeasure that he’d replaced the party bus with a charcoal grey SUV, we headed toward his apartment. Or, according to Flint, his bed. I secretly cried for the first thirty minutes for reasons that were lost even to me. I just knew that I had never been more scared of anything in my life—and that was saying a lot. Eventually I fell asleep, only to wake up when we dropped Till off at On The Ropes.
“You guys coming to Q’s fight tomorrow night, right? We’ll all go out to dinner afterwards, Doodle’s treat. She sold a painting yesterday.” Till smiled, leaning in Flint’s window. “It was good to see you, Ash. Take care of this asshole.” He slapped Flint on the back of the head then jumped away before Flint could retaliate.
“Jackass,” Flint mumbled, smoothing down the back of his hair. “We’ll be there,” he replied, rolling up his window. Instead of walking away, Till started laughing and lifted his hands to continue the conversation in sign language. “Jesus Christ.” Flint shook his head, quickly backing out of the parking lot.
“What’d he say?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he rushed out, his eyes nervously flashing to mine. I would have questioned further but as he stared out the windshield, a grin tipped the side of his mouth.
I’d missed him so much.
Unable to restrain myself, I reached across the center console and rested my hand on his thigh. He never acknowledged the subtle gesture but his simple grin spread across his face, transforming it into a full-blown smile. It was probably awkward as hell that I sat staring at him, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. It was so surreal that he was sitting next to me. It was also so amazing that my fears began to melt away. Maybe I didn’t have to trust him. I could just steel myself for the worst and embrace every second of the good I got with him.
Maybe I never had to leave at all.
That was until Flint turned into a quaint subdivision I didn’t recognize. Then I realized I couldn’t even stay for the originally promised two days.
Rows of new houses lined the streets. Flawlessly manicured lawns butted up against the unmarred sidewalks, illuminated by old-timey streetlights, while shiny new minivans and SUVs filled the driveways.
“Um . . . where . . . where are we?” I stuttered, taking it all in.
“Home,” he answered. The garage door lifted as he turned into the driveway of a small two-story brick house complete with blue shutters.
“Whose house is this?” I asked as I looked around the perfectly organized garage.
“Mine.”
“Where. . . . I mean . . . you moved?”
“Yeah, a few months ago. Till gave me the down payment as a graduation gift, but I’m paying him back.” He smiled proudly, but my gut wrenched.
“Graduation?”
“Yeah, I finished school. I’m running the business side of On The Ropes for Till and Slate right now, but I’m trying to become a sports agent. I just recruited a fighter who’s about to go pro. He moved to th
e gym and agreed to let me represent him. There is a lot of money to be made if you get the right clients.”
“Oh God,” I breathed.
“What?”
“Oh God.” Panic began to ricochet in my chest.
“What?” he repeated, reaching out to grab my hand.
“I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” I scrambled out of his car then darted from his garage. Once my feet hit the sidewalk I realized things were even worse than I thought. He had flowerbeds, with bushes that were trimmed to . . . well, perfection. “Shit,” I cursed as I caught sight of the basketball goal in the driveway across the street.
“Ash!” Flint called as he hobbled his way out.
I turned back to look at him and caught sight of the scariest thing I had ever seen in all of my nineteen years.
There was a wreath.
On his door.
And it wasn’t even Christmas.
“I have to get out of here,” I told myself.
“What the hell is going on?” he asked, suddenly stepping in front of me.
“I can’t,” was all I said before taking off at a dead sprint.
“Ash!” he yelled, but I didn’t bother to stop. I couldn’t even if I wanted.
And God, did I want to.
I ran until my legs wouldn’t carry me any farther, which ended up being approximately two blocks. (I noted that track and field was decidedly not my forte.) Out of breath, I sat down on the concrete sidewalk, not daring to touch the plush grass, then hugged my knees to my chest.
“This was such a bad idea.” I tucked my head low, praying I could disappear.
It didn’t take but a minute or two before I saw the headlights of his car as they rounded the corner. I heard the creak of his car door open before he grumbled, “I am sick and fucking tired of chasing you.”
“Can you please take me home now?” I told my knees.
He let out a frustrated sigh. “Jesus Christ, what is going on?”
“I have to leave. Like, now. I need to go home.”
“Fuck, Ash. Is that what you really want?”
“Yes,” I lied. Swallowing hard to mask the emotion, I looked up into what I fully expected to be his angry eyes. Only they weren’t at all, they were soft and sincere. And it just made my decision hurt that much more.
“All right.” He loudly exhaled. “Get in the car.”
“Thank you.” My heart began to slow in relief even as dread filled my stomach.
I slid into the passenger seat and Flint grudgingly climbed behind the wheel.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, dropping my head back against the headrest and closing my eyes as he started to drive off.
“Yeah, me too,” he mumbled, breaking my already shattered heart.
I kept my eyes closed as I felt him do a U-turn, beginning our journey back to Willing Hearts.
Back to my home.
Or so I thought.
“You are fucking insane if you think I’m taking you back to a homeless shelter,” he boomed as I felt the car bump over the curb of his driveway.
My eyes flew open as he once again drove into his garage. Grabbing my wrist, he restrained me while waiting for the door to seal us in.
“You liar!” I screeched.
“No, I didn’t lie at all. I already told you this was your home now,” he said smugly.
I wanted to slap that stupid look off his face. Or kiss it. I wasn’t sure which.
“Flint, you can’t tell someone where to live.”
He lifted his eyebrows and leaned in closer before whispering, “Watch me.”
Yep, I definitely wanted to slap him.
And maybe still kiss him a little.
“I think you’re the insane one.” I snatched my arm away and swung open the car door.
Frantically, I tried to figure out how to open his garage as he lumbered out of the car.
“You can try to run and I may not be able to chase you physically, but we need to be clear on one thing, Ash. I will not let you go again.” I froze. “You belong with me. And I will do whatever I have to do in order to keep you. I fucked up the first time. I won’t do it again. You can walk out that door, but know that I will find you. I will chase you for the rest of my life if that is what it takes to be with you.”
I’d waited my entire life to hear someone say those words to me.
Anyone to say those words to me.
My mom. My dad. Hell, I would have even been okay if Quarry had said them when he was fourteen.
But Flint saying them was almost too much.
Slowly I turned to face him. I had no idea how to respond, but if he was going to be honest so would I.
“I can’t stay in this perfect house in this perfect neighborhood where I’m the dirtiest thing in it.” I shrugged and offered him a tight smile that served no purpose because I knew it was transparent.
“Jesus.” He immediately made his way over to me. Supporting himself on one hand, he dropped a crutch to the ground and folded an arm around my waist, pulling me against his chest. “Don’t say shit like that.”
“I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you to live here. I thought we were gonna go back to your old apartment, where dirt lined the streets and people like me lived upstairs.”
“Stop.” He kissed the top of my head. “What did I do to you?” he asked rhetorically.
I answered anyway. “Nothing. You didn’t do anything to me, Flint.”
“And that’s exactly the problem.” I didn’t understand his response but I didn’t have time to harp on it. “I want to show you something. Can you promise not to run?”
I couldn’t promise that at all. Running was what I did. Still, I answered, “Yeah. Okay.” I reached up, wiping away the single tear that had somehow managed to escape. Attempting to hide my eyes, I bent over to pick up his crutch. As I straightened, offering it to him, he took my mouth instead.
Tipping my head back, he whispered a dozen apologies against my lips, sealing each one with a gentle kiss. His mouth never opened the way I wanted, nor did his tongue find mine. To be honest, I wasn’t really positive what he was apologizing for, but I accepted them all the same.
How could I not?
They were his.
After a final chaste kiss, he led me out to the stone patio of his small backyard. Looking down at the precisely manicured grass and elegant wooden privacy fence, I felt no better.
He must have followed my eyes, because he whispered, “The grass was like this when I bought the place. I put the fence up though. The neighbors are nosy as hell.”
“Right.” I swallowed hard.
He nodded toward the small fenced-off area on the side of his house. “This way.”
“Oh my God,” I gasped, covering my mouth. “It’s beautiful.”
He barked out a laugh. “I’m not sure about that.”
He was right—it was more than beautiful.
Thick weeks covered the ground of the small eight-by-eight area. You could tell they weren’t wild or unkempt because they had been trimmed to an even length that didn’t even meet my ankles, but I couldn’t have cared less that they were perfect weeds.
They were still weeds.
I hurriedly slid off my shoes and headed into them. The dirt clung to my feet as I paced a pattern. While I looked for the right spot to lie down, Flint decided to tell me a story.
“For the first month after you left I spent a lot of time in that patch at the old apartment. Then as months passed, I got really pissed and just wanted to forget you ever existed. So I ripped them out of the ground.” I stopped pacing as I watched him use his crutches to lower himself to the ground. “Of course they grew back.” He laughed, patting the dirt next to him, asking me to join him—an offer I couldn’t refuse. He continued as I settled at his side. “So then I sprayed them with weed killer.” He tossed an arm around my shoulders and reclined back, dragging me with him and then manhandling me into that position on his chest that I remembered he loved so
much. “Seriously, weeds are resilient. No matter what the hell I did, I couldn’t get rid of them. Eventually, I gave up and went back to spending my nights there. So when I moved a few months ago, I took the only thing I had left of you with me. Some of them died in the move, but for the most part they’ve done pretty well.” He ran his hands through the green bristle.
“Wait. These are the weeds from your apartment?”
“Some of them. I had to add a bunch.” He looked down, catching my gaze. “You should have seen the faces at the lawn and garden center when I walked in asking to buy weeds.” A hearty chuckle rumbled in his chest, warming me.
For several minutes no words were spoken but Flint repeatedly kissed the top of my head and stroked his fingertips up and down my arm. I was in heaven as the world momentarily disappeared.
He finally broke the silence. “I was in love with you too.”
Past tense.
I rolled away, remembering all too quickly why I hated that position on his chest.
Chapter Twenty-One
Flint
I DIDN’T TRY TO STOP her as she settled on her back a few inches away. I fucking hated the distance she’d always put between us, but I really just needed her to hear me out.
Turning to my side, I propped myself up on an elbow. “I’m going to give you that space while I say what I have to say, but do not get comfortable. This conversation ends with you back at my side. You got it?”
“Mm-hm,” she hummed unconvincingly.
“Okay, so listen, I was in love with you back then too.”
“Right, got that,” she noted, folding her hands over her stomach. “You know, I really don’t feel like having this conversation anymore. I get it. You didn’t mean the stuff you said. It’s in the past. Let’s talk about something else.”
“It’s not in the past if you feel for one fucking second that you aren’t good enough to live in my house.”
“Oh, I was just being funny.” She waved me off, but never once looked at me.