by B. J. Harvey
I grin and put my hand on my chest in a mock swoon even though I know he can’t see me. “Oh my lord, are you taking me away for a dirty weekend, Millen Ross? Where are we going and why? You usually give me more notice,” I say wryly.
“This is more of a protection mission.”
“Who am I protecting you from? ’Cause Lana Mason isn’t exactly someone I thought you, of all people, would need protection from. She’s harmless.”
He scoffs, and there’s an edge to his voice that seems a little off.
He texted me last night complaining that the daughter of a family friend was showing an interest, and even in the drunken state he was in, he assured me he had no interest in going there again. He’d learned from his mistake after taking her virginity just before he left for college. He’d thought things were crystal clear between them and that she understood it had been a one-time thing, but since then she’s tried everything she can to get a repeat performance whenever he’s been home.
“Unless you went back there again…”
“She put me to bed and then offered to get into it with me.”
“What?” I splutter. “I thought you were smart enough not to fall for that trick. You should know that girls like that never subscribe to the love-’em-and-leave-’em mentality.” I shake my head but can’t hide my amusement.
“The first time was a mistake and even drunk, I still knew I didn’t want it to happen again. But I didn’t wanna hurt her feelings, so I feigned performance anxiety.”
I lose it and start laughing. “I think I’m actually proud.”
“You should be. It was the first excuse I could think of. She still texted me this morning asking whether I wanted to catch up again,” he says with a sigh. “Next time I’ll think twice before letting her make my drinks.”
“You didn’t wonder why she was being so helpful?” I snicker.
“It seems obvious now. Anyway, I’m in need of escape, and it just so happens Ash needs help getting settled into her apartment.”
That gets my attention. “Boston? Dude, it’s five p.m. Even if we get in the air by six, which is doubtful, we wouldn’t arrive till three in the morning.”
He chuckles as I try to ignore the lightness in my chest. Is that anticipation I’m feeling? Am I that easily pleased when it comes to just the thought of seeing my own brand of forbidden fruit?
“Isn’t it lucky that Ash is in a hotel tonight, and I have the keys to the new brownstone Dad bought her.”
“You’re fucking kidding me. He bought her a house?”
“In all fairness, it’s an east-coast base for the company that just happens to now be my sister’s new home for the next four years.”
“Did ya ask him if he needed a new base in Texas too?” I asked, earning a laugh.
“Will you forgive me if I say he offered two years ago, and I turned him down because I wanted the full college experience, including the dorms?”
“Yeah, but only ’cause you never would’ve had the pleasure of sharing with me if you’d gotten your own penthouse pussy palace.”
“We would’ve met; I have no doubt of that.” His answer is telling of the type of guy Millen is. Yes, he has money. Yes, he can have anything his heart desires, but that doesn’t mean he wants it. He’s never been flashy, and it’s one of the things I admire most about him.
In fact, despite their upbringing, everything I’ve seen of Ashley tells me she’s the same. That’s not to say anyone would expect her to turn down the chance to have her own townhouse while she was away at college. She won’t have a chef or a maid like she does at home in San Francisco, but I think everyone—including me—will feel better knowing she’s comfortable and safe.
Wait… why am I including myself in that? I’ve met her twice. Yet I can’t stop forgetting about how she felt in my arms; the way the moonlight danced off her hair, the taste of that kiss still taunting me months later.
“Okay, well you now have ten minutes, so get ready, and I’ll see you soon.”
“Wait, I—” Before I can offer up any further protest, he ends the call.
True to his word, a few hours later we’re on a plane bound for Boston. Early the next morning we head to Ashley’s new Beacon Hill condo to meet with movers that Ashley herself has no clue are about to furnish an entirely new home for her. Ash and Mrs. Ross are arriving mid-afternoon and coming straight to us when Ashley will step into her new home for the next four years and beyond.
By one in the afternoon, the last of the boxes have been unpacked, and Millen and I both collapse onto lounge chairs on the condo’s private rooftop with much-deserved Coronas in hand.
“You think she’ll like it?” he asks.
I look around the rooftop, then out across Boston Common and beyond. “What’s not to like? She’s got her own space that she can make her own.” I take a swig of beer and drop my arm back down to rest on my leg, turning to look at him. “And knowing you guys have done this for her—well, your parents have done it—she’ll be home without being at home. I’m guessing for an eighteen-year-old girl moving out for the first time, it’ll make things a little easier.”
I hope it does anyway.
I may have been staying away from Ashley, but I was still keeping tabs on her. The douchebag was officially kicked to the curb the day after prom. No surprises there. According to Millen, Ashley’s focus for the summer was spending time with her friends—apart from Lisa, of course—and living it up before knuckling down for college.
“And what about you? What are you gonna do when we graduate?”
He up-ends his bottle and downs the rest of his drink before turning his head my way, his expression tight. “That’s when real life kicks in, and I become a Ross. Until then, you and I have two more years in Texas.”
A smile tugs at my lips. “Two years until we have to grow up,” I say with a laugh. “I think I can cope with that.”
He holds out his arm, and we clink our bottles together, eyes locked. “Two years to run amuck. Look out, women of Texas Tech.”
With Ashley starting her new life in Boston, out of sight and out of mind sounds like the best—and safest—idea.
Any good thoughts about that plan fly out the window the moment Millen opens the door to his Mom and sister. I have to anchor my feet to the floor in order to scramble together even the slightest sense of composure. My chest tightens, my core twisting with tension and threatening to revolt. I’ve never felt so unprepared, so off my game and filled with trepidation in equal measure, as I do right now. If Millen were watching me, he’d probably wonder when I managed to fit a frontal lobotomy in between shifting the couch and cracking the top off my beer.
“Hey, brat,” he says.
“Hey, Mills…” Ashley replies warily, her voice trailing off the moment her eyes lock with mine over his shoulder.
I feel her stare as if it’s a defibrillator shock to my whole being. It’s definitely not what I want to feel, but I find myself welcoming it all the same. Maybe it’s what I want but don’t need.
What does she do to me? And how do I make it stop before Millen actually clicks then kills me… slowly?
I shake my head and breathe a quiet sigh of relief when she recovers quickly, wrapping her arms around Millen’s back, her eyes tracking me—this time without risk of discovery—as I step forward and greet their mom.
Once the driver has handed off Ashley’s luggage to me in the entranceway, I place it out of the way and make my way to the living room. Sitting on the newly moved couch, I lean back and take my chance to watch the three of them tour through the dining room and kitchen, my attention firmly on Ash.
She’s even more beautiful than I remember, and my memory is near on photo-fucking-graphic when it comes to Ashley Ross. She’s the same yet a little older—hopefully, a lot wiser when it comes to douchebags, including me. She’s still that gorgeous, vulnerable, not-so-shrinking violet. A woman who I’ve avoided for long enough and can hopefully be around without havin
g unbidden thoughts about. The kinds of thoughts her older brother would not appreciate his best friend having.
All I can do is make sure we’re not left alone together. That’s when I’m likely to get myself in trouble.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, relieved that I now have a plan of attack. Stick to Millen like glue—then there’s no chance of a repeat of that life-changing kiss I swear I can still taste on my lips.
“Millen, show me upstairs,” Mrs. Ross calls out, leaving me alone with my thoughts and Ashley.
“Sure,” he says before following his mom upstairs.
Unsurprisingly, Ashley seizes the moment, making her way from the kitchen into the living room and leaning against the doorframe, her attention squarely focused on me. It’s as if she knows I’m fucked whenever I’m around her.
“It’s nice to see you, Drew,” she says, her blue eyes shining brightly.
I grin, unable to stop myself. I should be running up the stairs to help Millen and their mom with something—anything—but instead, I’m sitting down, stretching my arms wide over the back of the couch and giving Ash the up-down treatment, something that does nothing to dissuade my brain and other parts of my anatomy as to how great she looks. I stand and move toward her. I don’t need to say anything as she steps forward into my open arms, her hands wrapping around my back as if holding me hostage. I give up fighting it because she already knows I’m more than willing.
I give myself this one moment. Just this one time. A quick hug, trying to find that feeling I’ve been missing since that night. Ash in my arms, chest to chest, her face buried in my T-shirt. Her vanilla and coconut smell overwhelms me in the best way possible. I search my conscience for guilt but I can’t find any in this moment.
With a sigh, I loosen my arms and move back, resting my hands on her hips and grinning down at her. “You’re looking good, Ash.”
“So are you,” she says with a playful smile. “We missed you over summer.”
I open my mouth to lie, to say anything other than the truth, but under the hammer like this, I find that I can’t—actually, it’s more like I don’t want to.
I bite my lip, my jaw tensing. I look out the window beside me, but Ashley’s voice pulls me back in.
“You don’t have to stay away from me, Drew. That dance meant a lot to me, and I get it if it wasn’t the same for you. You’re Millen’s best friend, and we live in different states, so it was never going to be more than you giving me a good memory to replace a bad one. I’m just happy to see you. I can’t explain why. I don’t really even understand why. I just know you were meant to be someone important to me, and it feels right when you’re around.” She reaches up and cups my cheek. “Don’t stay away because you feel it’s safe. Don’t stay away because you think you should.” Lifting up on her toes, she brushes her lips against mine. “Don’t stay away, because I’d rather have you here without having you, than not have you in my life at all.”
Then I make mistake number two when it comes to Ashley Ross: I wrap my hand around the back of her neck, dip my head, and kiss her how I’ve been wanting to kiss her since prom night. In the living room of her new Boston home, I lose myself to the girl I can never have but desperately wish I could.
Yet it doesn’t stop me from taking home a torn piece of paper with her phone number on it. Or sending a text I know signifies the start of something dangerous—something life-changing.
Then again, didn’t I know that the second I touched her lips?
Drew: Hi.
Ashley: Hi.
Drew: It’s me.
Ashley: Who’s me?
Drew: I don’t know. Who do you want me to be?
Ashley: It’s probably not safe to answer until I know who you want me to say I want you to be.
Drew: Fuck Ash, you’re killing me.
Ashley: In a good way?
Drew: You know this is all kinds of stupid, right?
Ashley: But not when you were kissing me yesterday? ’Cause that didn’t feel stupid at all.
Drew: Millen’s my best friend.
Ashley: He’s also my brother. Believe me, I get it. Besides, this is just two friends talking, right?
Somehow, her saying that gives me the reassurance I need. Or the excuse I need, anyway. It gives me an out. Two friends talking. Texting. It’s not crossing the line… again…
Ashley: This isn’t just some baby sister bucket list item you’re ticking off?
Drew: There’s a bucket list?
Ashley: You tell me…
Drew: Okay, let’s work our way through it.
Ashley: It could take some time.
Drew: I’m sitting at home, watching baseball. What else is there to do?
Ashley: No hot date? No bars to hit up?
I grin at her unspoken message. She may be young, but she’s definitely not stupid.
Drew: No hot date. No desire to hit up a bar in my hometown. Besides, I have you to talk to.
Ashley: Have there been any hot dates lately?
Drew: Not since I left for Boston.
Again, I don’t feel the need to lie. She was right there with me in that kiss yesterday. There was no mistaking the want and need in that moment.
Drew: Truth bomb time—I don’t have any room in my head or my conscience to think about anyone but you, Ash. There was someone I was seeing casually, but it ended last week since I’m heading back to college.
Ashley: Do you promise to always tell me the truth, even if you think it’ll hurt me?
Drew: I don’t ever want to hurt you, Ash. And I’d never do it willingly. But yes, I will always be honest, even if I know you won’t like what I’m being honest about.
Ashley: Same. I don’t want to hurt you either.
Drew: Do I even need to say the one thing that will hurt me?
Ashley: Millen won’t find out. Honestly, I don’t know what ‘this’ is, so how would I even explain it to anyone?
Drew: Glad I’m not the only one without a clue. I just know you make me feel different.
She doesn’t reply for a while, and I wonder whether I’ve said too much. Or not enough. I’m so lost when it comes to her. I don’t know whether I’m upside down or right-side up, and it’s enough to mess with my head.
Ashley: Let’s get off the heavy talk for now. I don’t want to worry about anything we don’t have to worry about right now.
Drew: Okay.
Ashley: Do you have things you want to know about me?
I hesitate for a moment, my fingers hovering over the keys. She’s not a naïve—or innocent—teenager. The woman I saw yesterday was strong and knew what she wanted: me.
Drew: I want to know everything, even if I know it already.
Ashley: Well I’m not sure that’s something we can cover in a few text messages…
Drew: I’m willing to try if you are.
Ashley: I’m willing to try anything as long as I’m with you.
That’s words that could be taken an entirely different way by a guy like me. Hell, half of me is already imagining all the things I want to do with Ashley, and none of them are platonic.
I think the reason I feel the way I do with Ashley is because there’s never been any pretense. She knew of me before she first laid eyes on me; she never once hid from me that she was interested, and not once has she acted how I’ve expected her to act.
At breakfast this morning, she pretended like nothing had happened the day before. She was just Ash, teasing Millen, making jokes about me, and talking animatedly with all of us about her new house and all the things she wanted to do to it to “make it her own.” She nearly gave her mother a heart attack when she boasted how she couldn’t wait to have her first college kegger on the rooftop.
She’s a conundrum of my own making. A complication not only in my head, but in life. That doesn’t mean I find myself able to stop replying to her.
She’s going to mean trouble for me. She knows it. I definitely know it. But it’s just t
exting, right?
One week later
Drew: How was your first day?
Ashley: Scary, exciting, overwhelming—all of the things.
Drew: Ha ha. Yes, my first day freshman year was exactly like that. You’ll settle in soon enough.
Ashley: I bet now you’re a pro at this college gig.
Drew: Two years down, two to go.
Ashley: You’ll be an old man by the time I graduate ;)
Drew: And she starts with the old jokes already. Back in my day…
Ashley: Stop! I can just imagine you saying that in an old man voice.
Drew: I used to walk to school for five miles with bare feet in the snow…
Ashley: Has Sacramento even had snow? Like ever?
Drew: Smartass.
Ashley: You know it. So any plans for tonight?
Drew: Mills and I are gonna grab a bite to eat soon, then probably just stay in.
Ashley: The calm before the storm of the weekend?
Drew: Something like that. Talk to you soon?
Ashley: I look forward to it.
One month later
Ashley: I’m a little drunk.
Drew: Party?
Ashley: My friend Jess met a hot guy in class who invited her to a party at his condo. I’m her wingman/bodyguard.
Drew: Yet you’re a little drunk?
Ashley: Just a bit buzzed. I’m safe, I swear, ha ha.
Drew: Do you know what goes through the mind of a college guy when he sees a hot ‘buzzed’ freshman at a party?
Ashley: You think I’m hot? Ha ha.
Drew: I think you’re more than hot.
Ashley: Are you alone?
I don’t miss the connotation.
Drew: Yes. I seem to have my mind on a hot buzzed freshman in Boston.
Ashley: That’s good, because I’m distracted by my own sexy college guy.