by Kacey Shea
“No!” Ash wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me back to him. “That’s not it. Not at all. You’re beautiful and strong and doing just fine without that asshole. I was worried you wouldn’t want to help if you knew he’d be there, too.”
“Oh.” I blow out a breath and relax. Ash peppers kisses along my brow and then my nose. I scrunch it again and he smiles. “I don’t want to see him, but if you need me, I’m there. No question.”
Ash’s lips pull wide and his eyes sparkle. He relaxes onto the soft sheets and pulls my body tight against his. We don’t speak and I lay my head back on his chest. His heartbeat thrums in my ear and my breath slows until it’s even and calm.
“Thank you.” I swear I hear him whisper the words but when I lift my cheek his eyes are closed, face peaceful, and breath so even I’m sure he’s sleeping. Not tired myself and in need of a glass of water, I slide off the bed, careful not to wake Ash in the process. I pull on my sweats and T-shirt and turn off the light before padding down the stairs.
Using trial and error, I open the cupboards until I find where he stores his cups. I can’t help but rearrange them a little. It’s seemingly wrong to leave coffee mugs mixed in with plastic and glassware when there’s plenty of space for segregated rows. I pull a glass down and fill it at the sink. Ash’s cell is plugged in at the counter outlet and buzzes with an incoming call while I drink my water.
I don’t mean to look, it’s just that it continues to vibrate atop the counter, even after I place my glass in the dishwasher so I give it a little glance.
Chase Matthews.
The name scrolls by and brings with it a wave of nerves that threatens to crash over everything good about this weekend. Why is he calling Ash? Are they friends? Is Ash playing me? Shit. I hate where my mind is going but it does so all the same. I jog over to my bag and retrieve my own cell, clicking on the text message icon. Holy crap. Twenty-six messages, time stamped last night between the hours of seven and midnight within the group feed I share with Alicia and Jill. I scroll through quickly.
Jill: Callie.
Jill: Come in, Callie.
Alicia: Callie?
Jill: Silent treatment? Really? Mature dude.
Alicia: Maybe she’s injured?
Jill: Nah, she never goes running anymore.
Alicia: Callie!
Jill: I’m worried. You never go off grid without a warning.
Alicia: That’s it. I’m doing a drive by.
Alicia: She’s not there but her car is.
Jill: CALLIE!
Jill: I’m gonna call a search party.
Alicia: Please don’t be murdered.
Jill: aka I’m texting Ash.
Alicia: Good call. I don’t want to watch a Lifetime movie about us.
Jill: Callie Gordon, you sneaky little bitch!!!
Alicia: WHAT? DID YOU FIND HER?
Jill: She’s with Ashley.
Alicia: FUCK
Alicia: No wonder she’s ignoring our texts.
Jill: He says he kidnapped you for your own good. I want FULL details when you get back.
Alicia: Sounds kinky. I likey.
Jill: I want to be kidnapped.
Alicia: At least you have Cam the Man.
Jill: Meh.
Jill: Text us back when you return bitch.
Just great! Ash told Jill about us? This with the betrayal of Chase’s phone call boils the already simmering anger within. Fuck that. With my cell gripped in my left hand I rip his off of the wall charger with my right and stomp up the stairs.
I flip on the light in his bedroom and he doesn’t even stir.
“Ash,” I demand. “What the fuck?”
His eyes snap open and he regards my face, then immediately sits up in the bed with a frown. He’s all naked and it’s distracting but I hold firm to my irritation and toss the phone at his face. Luckily for him he has quick reflexes.
“What’s going on, Callie?”
“Why is Chase calling you?”
“Huh?”
“Chase. My ex. The one you pretend to hate. Why the fuck is he calling?” My voice builds, and my hands shake from where I clench them. I’m so pissed. At him, but also myself for allowing to be played a fool again.
Ash studies his phone, unlocks the screen, scrolls through a few things, and then holds the device to his ear. His brow furrows and his gaze is intense. I open my mouth but he holds up one finger so I snap it shut.
“Hey!” he barks into the line. “Yeah, I saw. I just don’t see how that’s my problem.” He stands from the bed, his eyes still locked with mine as he listens to the other caller. “Well, I’m busy this weekend. I made plans. Get someone else to cover.”
He steps toward me, confident and bold without a stitch of clothes. I try to remember why I’m mad. He pauses and his brows rise sharply. “You can’t do that!” he shouts before his lips pull into a tight smile. “Fine. Give me an hour.” He exhales a loud whoosh of breath and shakes his head before speaking. “None of your damn business. I said an hour. ’Bye.” He ends the call and slams the phone against the sheets.
“That was him?” Ash nods and steps toward me until we’re only inches apart. I want to touch him but I need him to spell it out for me. “Why did he call? And why did you tell my friends we’re hooking up?”
Ash’s brows pull up and he runs his hands over his head. “I didn’t tell your friends we hooked up. I told them not to worry. I was with you and you were safe. That I needed to get out of town and I took you with me. That’s it.”
I exhale the breath I didn’t realize I was holding and nod in understanding. Damn it. I’m so quick to assume the worst. “And Chase called about work?”
“Yeah. Fucking prick said if I don’t come in he’s writing me up.”
“Why does he need you to come in?”
“Butters had to leave early. Stomach bug. But really it’s ’cause I’m lowest on the totem pole.”
“I’m sorry,” I blurt and toss my phone so it lands near his on the bed. My fingers go to Ash’s ears and I pull him down for a kiss. My mouth moves languidly and firm with his before I break away. I keep hold of his earlobes, though. “When I saw his name I assumed the worst.”
“It’s fine, Callie.”
“No. It’s not. You’ve been nothing but everything I’ve needed and I should’ve expected the best.”
His lips pull up at the corners and his hands brush my hips. “I know a way you could make it up to me.” He waggles his brows, his hands slide to my butt, and he pulls me flush to his front so I feel his arousal.
“Again!” My eyes widen and a chuckle escapes my lips. “Don’t you have to get to work?”
“I’ve got time for one more round.” His smile widens and then dims slightly. “I’m sorry we have to cut our sexcation short.”
“It’s fine, Ash. Honestly, it’s been unreal. You’re a fucking god in the bedroom—out of it, too. I’m not sure I’d be able to walk normally after another day of this. It’s probably best for my safety, anyway,” I tease with a whole lot of truth. His chuckle washes over me as his lips come down on mine and we make good use of what time he has left. It’s not weird at all when he drops me back by Kiki’s on his way to the station. I even tease him about his bitch car. It’s natural, easy, and for once I’m completely assured I’ve made the right choice in trusting Ash.
I love that I’m doing this.
Ash is picking me up in five minutes to volunteer with the food drive. I’m really nervous because I don’t know how I’ll feel when I see Chase, but Ash promises to never leave my side. It’s strange knowing I’ll run into my ex and even though I don’t particularly want it to, I know it will happen. At least this time I’m prepared and I have a friend backing me up.
And Ash’s word is gold.
He said things wouldn’t be weird between us and they aren’t. We fucked all last weekend, but this week it’s been back to normal. And by that I mean he continues to show up on his days off to hel
p in the yard, often staying for dinner with Kiki and me, and he hasn’t once asked for more sex.
Which has me relieved.
And at the same time totally confused.
He said it wouldn’t change our friendship. It hasn’t. He’s still Ash. I’m still me. But is it really so easy for him to spend a weekend all up in my jam and then cut himself off? I’m starting to worry that maybe it wasn’t as good for him as it was for me.
Because I can’t stop thinking of kidnapping him and holding him hostage in Kiki’s basement. Minus the kidnap and hostage parts. I just want to get with him again. And that’s confusing as fuck! I’m not supposed to think that about one of my best friends. And yet, that’s what he is. A good, good, good friend who also knows how to completely rock my world.
I even made chocolate chip pancakes yesterday.
It’s as though my recovery has come full circle and put me in the most curious of positions. I need to tell him what I’m thinking. But I was sort of hoping he’d say something first.
I glance at my phone and read the time. He’s almost here. I pull my VCU sweatshirt over my plain fitted tee and shove my feet in my running shoes, opting for comfort even though I want to look good. That’s where these jeans come in. My ass looks mighty good in this pair, fully living up to Ash’s Sweet Cheeks nickname. After taming my wild curls into a knot on top of my head, I take the stairs up to the kitchen.
“I forgot how much these itch like of a son of a—”
“Kiki, what are you doing?” I say as I hit the top step. She rubs the skin just above her wrist and that’s when I notice. “You got a new tattoo! When did you get it?” I squeal and step closer to examine the addition to her collection. I can’t believe it and yet I can all the same. She’s officially way cooler than I’ll ever be.
“Yes, dear. The gals and I had a little too much fun in DC last weekend. I was trying to keep this covered until it was completely healed so I could surprise you.” Her palm disguises most of the artwork but some of the vibrant colors sneak through.
“You’re not gonna show me?” I practically pout.
Kiki smiles, her eyes shimmer, and she moves her hand out of the way.
“Oh, my God,” I whisper and then step closer. It’s a monarch butterfly, wings spread wide while it sucks the nectar from a flower. “It’s beautiful.”
“You brought my garden back.” Kiki brushes my right cheek with her hand and gives it a soft pat. “I couldn’t wait until spring to see the butterflies return.”
“What kind of flower is that?” I ask through the emotion that threatens to seep into my voice.
“Milkweed.” She drops her hand and looks me up and down. “You ready for today?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be. I don’t want to see him, but I’m not gonna hide.”
“Damn straight. Besides, you have Ash.” If only she knew just how much I had of Ash last weekend. My face heats with the memory and I’m worried she’ll see right through me. A knock at the door saves me.
“That’s him! I better go! I’m not sure when I’ll be home.” I grab my purse and head toward the door.
“Holy shit! Ashley what is this? The humanity!” I exclaim after he flips the lights on inside the classroom. I was calm about two seconds ago. When we walked into the firehouse it was a huge relief to discover all the guys were out on a call. That was, until we walked into this room. Good God!
“I know, it’s bad.” Ash cringes at the sight and begins shuffling boxes and bags to clear some sort of space, or a path.
“How long were you collecting donations?” And did no one anticipate how to receive and organize them? My OCD tendencies kick into overdrive.
“Two of the local grocery stores and the Mail and Go had a collection box up all month. The guys have been bringing in the donations and dropping them here. Just wait until the forty frozen turkeys show up in . . .” He checks his watch. “Three hours.”
“What’s the plan here?” I need direction, a goal, a purpose, because right now it’s too much, and overwhelming. I want to sort and categorize this chaos into boxes. Well-constructed, uniform boxes. Ones with color coordinated, easy to read labels.
“The volunteer groups will be by at one to pick up the food boxes and turkeys. So, this . . .” He glances around the room. “All needs to be sorted and packaged accordingly. I’ve got fifty smaller boxes donated by the hardware store that we can use. They need to be put together, though. I have them stacked up in the chief’s office now.”
“Okay.” I pick up a paper bag filled with food only to have it rip at the bottom. Two cans tumble out and nearly take out my big toe. Ash reaches out to stop anything else from falling, his hands a temporary patch until we set the bag and its contents onto the ridiculous mountain of non-perishables.
I appraise the mess once more before meeting Ash’s gaze. “I say we sort first and then divide into food boxes. Any way you can get a table in here?”
“You got it, boss. You tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” He salutes and gingerly steps over a few bags on his way out of the room.
“Oh, and some tunes. We need music,” I call over my shoulder.
“On it!” Ash disappears and I take a deep breath. Okay, food donations, I hope you’ve enjoyed the party but it’s time for Callie to work her magic. I mentally take inventory as I move everything over to one side of the room. When Ash returns we set up a long folding table against the empty wall.
Thankfully, I never leave home without a pad of sticky notes and assorted markers. While Ash runs to get the speaker dock from the kitchen I jot down categories: veggies, side dishes, cereal, baking supplies, and miscellaneous, each on its own note and stick them on the wall above the table.
Ash nods approvingly after plugging in some music and hauls a heavy box over to the foot of the table. His ball cap covered head bobs to the beat of Pitbull and we work together, unpacking and sorting, in an almost choreographed manner. Before I’m through with a box or bag he’s already there, setting another full one in its place.
There’s a shit ton of food so it doesn’t take long before the table is overflowing. Ash continues unpacking and I grab a now empty box, repacking it with canned veggies. As soon as I have it full, Ash moves the box away. My control freak tendencies flare with the fear he’ll fuck up my perfect system and I almost reach out to stop him. But something about the way he moves, carrying the heavy box and setting it off to the side causes me to pause and watch.
Okay. I’m perving. Totally checking him out. He chews the inside of his cheek and his brows scrunch together as he digs around in the box. His lips move just in the slightest and that’s when I realize he’s counting. He stops, folds the top closed and pulls a sharpie from his back pocket to mark the top and sides with a clearly legible “27 – VEG.” I’m totally impressed.
“I like the way you think, Ashley.” I smile and go back to sorting food.
Ash moves to my side, bringing more unsorted boxes over. “But the real question is . . .” He clears his throat and dances his way back. “Does that make you horny, baby?” He adopts the worst British accent imaginable.
I laugh, but honestly it kind of does. “Maybe,” I tease and Ash’s eyes sparkle. The skin at the corners of his eyes crinkle with his smile.
“Other girls want jewelry and expensive gifts. You just want color coordinated sticky notes and boxed non-perishables.”
“You think you know me so well.” I roll my eyes.
“Hell yeah, I do!” He smiles and puffs out his chest. “I bet if I got one of those electronic label makers you’d agree to another sexcation.”
Sexcation? My lady parts jump up and down, hands in the air, begging to get on board with this plan. I swallow and try for lighthearted. “Anyone ever tell you no one likes a tease, Ash? If you’re not gonna put out . . .” The words die on my lips as my gaze locks with his. His eyes are liquid amber, less green than they’ve ever appeared, and his lips pull wide into that smile that’s full
of trouble and promise.
He steps toward me and I slide out of the way, almost dropping the box of mac and cheese I have clutched in my hands. He chuckles, deep and low, and the sound slams straight to my gut, twists my insides, and fills my entire body with heat. We’ve pretended nothing happened last week, just as agreed, and it’s worked, sort of, until this moment. Because right now I want nothing more than for Ash to haul me in his arms and kiss away all my confusing thoughts. That alone has me unable to breathe.
He traps my back against the table, his body inches from mine, and my fingers itch to grab his shirt. I don’t, though. I keep a firm grip on the food in my hands and continue to hold his burning gaze. He reaches behind me and my eyes flutter shut, expecting his lips to brush mine.
His chuckle snaps my lids open and he steps back, presenting a can of condensed milk between us. “Having a tough time concentrating? Doesn’t this go over there?” He nods his head to his side of the table and I bristle because, yes, he has me so distracted I can’t organize, which isn’t good. But even more, I’m pissed that he’s finding my difficulty so damn entertaining. I snag the can and push by his solid frame to slam the milk where it should have gone. Ash laughs louder and I glare but he’s already back on task.
We should talk. I almost say the words aloud. We need to discuss last weekend, about whatever this is or was, that’s going on between us. I almost call his name, almost, but if it’s only me who’s having an issue going from sex partners to friends then I don’t want him to know. I don’t want to be the lame one, the one who can’t handle the well-formed and agreed upon parameters to our relationship. Ash is doing what he promised and seems perfectly fine with the arrangement.
No. I need to say something. I’ll be mixing cereal boxes with canned veggies all day if I don’t. I open my mouth—
Movement catches my gaze from the door as it swings wide open. It’s Chase. He stands inside the frame and if I’m not mistaken he flexes his arms as they cross his broad chest and nods to Ash. “You need any help? We’ve got time until our next call.” He glances over at me and his face softens. “Hey, Callie.”