Withholding Nothing

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Withholding Nothing Page 19

by Victoria Bright


  “How many acres is this?” I asked.

  “About six. It was passed down to me from my father as a wedding gift,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets. “Janice and I knocked down the old family house and built this new one. Thing was falling apart anyway. It would’ve cost us more to update and fix things, so we decided to just start fresh.”

  I took in a deep breath, the scent of grass, horses, and summer filling my nostrils.

  “Well, it’s beautiful out here. Real peaceful.”

  “Sure is. I hope to pass this down to Ashton one day,” he said and looked at me. “So you and my daughter are roommates, huh?”

  I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Hmm.” His sudden silence made me a bit uneasy. “What are your intentions with her?”

  I raised an eyebrow in confusion. Were my developing feelings for her that obvious? “I’m sorry?”

  “Look, my daughter has been through a lot over the last few months. You seem like a good guy, but I only want what’s best for her.”

  “Of course.”

  “I see the way you two look at each other. I’ve been around long enough to know when people have chemistry, and you guys have something that looks explosive.”

  I looked down at the ground, unsure if I should admit he was right or brush it off with a denial.

  “She told me about her ex and what happened. I had my own nasty breakup a few months ago as well. I wouldn’t want to cause more heartache for her.”

  “How do you feel about her?”

  I swallowed hard. How did I feel about her? I had her flowery scent imprinted in my mind. Her warmth gave me peace that I hadn’t felt in a while and her laugh and smile were like my anti-depressants. She made me feel alive again, pushing the dark clouds of Kayla away and replacing them with sunshine. I always looked forward to being next to her again, spending my time at work thinking of her and what she could possibly be doing. No matter how I tried to twist it, I had to admit that I was quickly falling for her, despite trying to keep my heart on ice.

  “She’s a great woman,” I finally said. “I care a great deal about her, but I don’t want to hurt her. I don’t think either of us are really ready for a relationship right now.”

  Phillip nodded. “Good answer. Ashton loves hard. Poor thing wears her heart on her sleeve and gets hurt time and time again. I just want her to be happy.”

  “Completely understandable, sir. I want the same thing for her,” I said with a small smile.

  “Glad we’re on the same page,” he said, clapping my shoulder. We reached a large brown barn. “Now feast your eyes on this.”

  He opened the door and revealed the Beetle, the old teal paint chipped off. The hood was a bit rusted, along with a few rust spots on the roof and on the sides. Despite that, the car was still in decent-looking shape.

  “This is nice,” I mused, circling around the car.

  “Right? Got it at a steal, too, only about $9500,” he exclaimed in excitement.

  “That’s it? That’s like highway robbery for a classic like this,” I mentioned with a chuckle. He laughed and nodded.

  “Exactly. Though the original owner’s wife was selling. Her husband had passed and she was going to move in with her daughter and couldn’t take the car with her. It was quite the deal.”

  “It definitely has good potential, that’s for sure.”

  “I plan on getting a new paint job, like something dark. Black really looks good on this kind of car, right?”

  “Definitely,” I replied, peeking into the windows. “Considering the age of the car, the interior doesn’t look bad.” The cream-colored leather seats looked a bit weathered, but there were no significant tears or missing stuffing that would require a complete gut job.

  Phillip moved over to stand next to me, also peering through the window. “Question for ya. Now I personally think the seats can be saved, you know? Nothing that a needle and some thread wouldn’t fix. Kind of want to keep the antique look so that it looks as it did back then, but Janice thinks I should update it and make it modern. What do you think?”

  I rubbed the facial hair on my chin thoughtfully. “I honestly think you should stick with the original. That’s what makes a restore great, you know? Besides, if people wanted something modern, I think they’d be cheaper just buying a current year Beetle,” I replied. He let out a breath that sounded like a mixture of shock and relief, shaking his head.

  “See? You get it! That’s exactly what I thought! Women just want things to look nice, but it’s so much more than that. Some people like things that remind them of the good ol’ days, you know?”

  “Definitely. I used to go to car shows and marvel at the antique models that came through. I especially love seeing those on the road. Nothing like driving next to something that’s like a blast from the past.”

  “Exactly!” He looked at me, his eyes shining with excitement. “Man, you’re like the son I wished I’d had! I’d love to have you come over and help me with it sometime.”

  “I’d like that, sir. I’ve wanted to do something like this, but haven’t had the money to.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you what. You help me out with this and we can split the profits when it sells at auction.”

  My eyes widened in surprise, a smile creeping across my face. “Really?”

  “Heck yeah! It’ll be nice to have someone around that actually cares about this kind of stuff.”

  “I’d like that, sir. I look forward to it.”

  “Good then. Let’s check out under the hood.”

  We spent the next twenty minutes going back and forth about what engine he should replace the old one with and other cosmetic details he’d have to decide on.

  “I almost thought it would be cooler to make this a convertible, but not sure if it’s cost effective. What say you?”

  “Hmm…it may raise the value a tiny bit, but I agree. It wouldn’t necessarily even out cost-wise. I’d stick with keeping the roof as it is. Just fix the rust spots on here and get a good paint job; it’ll feel like it the buyer is in the fifties again.”

  He shook his head with a chuckle. “Same wavelength, man. Same wavelength.”

  “Not to interrupt your budding bromance or anything, but Mom needs your help, Dad,” Ashton said from the doorway of the barn.

  Phillip sighed. “Dang it,” he muttered under his breath and turned to me. “You stay put. I’ll be right back.”

  He rushed out the barn and past Ashton, leaving us alone again. She entered the barn and walked over to me, wrapping her arms around herself.

  “I’m sure he’s told you you’re the son he wished he had,” she said with a playful grin.

  I smiled. “Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t.”

  “I’m sure he did. He once told my nine-year-old cousin that just because he was interested in Hot Wheels. Told my cousin that he was a car enthusiast in the making,” she said with a giggle.

  “Nothing wrong with that, especially being surrounded by so much estrogen,” I teased. She playfully rolled her eyes.

  “Whatever,” she said, taking me by the hand. “Come on, I want to show you the loft.”

  I followed behind her to the wooden staircase near the back of the barn, climbing up the stairs.

  “Wow,” I stated when we reached the top. A black futon and black chairs sat on top of a white rug. Bookshelves lined the back wall with teen books, magazines, and POP Art figures. A small TV sat on top of a brown table, posters of male pop stars covering the wooden walls. “So I’m guessing this is the teenage lair.”

  “Just where we liked to hang out away from my parents, more specifically my mom. Seeing her trying to be hip was painful to watch.”

  I chuckled and shook my head. I imagined a younger Ashton relaxing with her friends, talking and giggling over boys, music, and fashion. My eyes scanned the bookshelf, stopping at a group picture. Ashton sat in the middle of three other girls, one who looked unfamiliar.

  “You’re a
natural blonde?” I asked, picking up the picture.

  “Obviously.”

  “Why obviously? It’s not like you have…carpet to compare to the drapes,” I teased, my eyes moving to her crotch. She blushed.

  “Oh hush.”

  “Who’s this?” I asked, pointing to the unfamiliar girl on the right of Ashton. She looked at the picture, disdain crossing over her beautiful features.

  “The girl who would later go on to steal my boyfriend,” she answered, her voice tight.

  I tilted my head and studied the picture. “Yeah, I figured she was the odd girl out.”

  Ashton looked at me, her brows furrowing as she cocked her head to the side and then looked at the picture.

  “Really? How so?”

  “You see how happy you, Ava, and Alex look?” I pointed to their faces.

  “Yeah, and?”

  “She’s the only one who looks as if she doesn’t want to be there. She’s not even smiling. It’s more of a small grin.”

  She continued staring at the picture, eventually letting out a sigh. “I wish I would’ve noticed the signs before,” she murmured. I put the picture back in its place and took her hand into mine.

  “Don't blame yourself for the actions of other assholes. Shit just happens.”

  She nodded and pulled away, walking over to the futon. After fiddling with it for a few moments, she pushed it back to where it was now a bed and waved me over. I walked over and lay next to her. “There used to be a tree behind the barn, but it knocked a hole in the roof one year during a hurricane. Dad just put a glass in it and said that it was God’s sign that maybe we needed a skylight.” She was quiet for a moment. “We used to lay here and look up at the stars, dreaming of what our future would be like and what would happen to us after high school.”

  I looked over at her. “How did you see your future?” I murmured.

  She sighed softly. “I thought I’d be happy with the love of my life. I imagined us growing old together, having a bunch of kids, and being happily married. He'd be a successful businessman, and I’d be an in-demand interior designer or something. We would’ve had this amazing penthouse apartment in New York or something and just live happily ever after.” She sighed again. “But sometimes things don’t always work out the way you want them to.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “My mom used to tell me that sometimes things fall apart so that better things can come together.”

  She turned her head to look at me, her gaze feeling as if she was looking into my soul. “Do you believe that?”

  “I want to,” I admitted softly. “But now I don’t know anymore.”

  She turned her gaze back to the stars appearing in the sky. “I like to believe there’s someone out there that will prove that belief to be true. Everyone has a soul mate.”

  “Yeah,” I said. A burning urge to tell her how I felt about her ignited in me. Maybe it was the intimacy of our conversation or seeing how angelic she looked laying next to me. I could almost see a younger version of herself staring up at the stars, dreaming a dream that would shatter before her eyes and leave her heartbroken. Despite her failed relationship, she still held on to the hope that love was out there for her. It was hard to continue being pessimistic about love when a woman still believed in it despite her devastating break up.

  “Even though it was devastating at first, I’m kind of glad things happened as they did,” she said.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Sometimes we hold on to toxic things more so for comfort than love. I was comfortable with Steve. He wasn’t the best boyfriend. He made me feel like an inconvenience sometimes and didn’t really make me a priority. But I stayed because he was all I knew and I thought I’d be losing out on something if I left.” Her eyes met mine. “Sure, the first few weeks after we broke up were hard. He’d been my first love and I hadn’t lived my adult life without him. So to suddenly be alone, and be betrayed by my best friend no less, was a tough pill to swallow.”

  “It’s his loss,” I said. “Any man would be crazy to give you up.”

  She gave me a soft smile. “Thanks. Any woman to give you up would be crazy, too.”

  “Oh really?” I teased with a smirk. “Weren’t you the one that said—”

  She silenced me with her lips, her warm hand resting against my cheek as she kissed me. I rolled over onto my side and put my arm around her, pulling her closer to my body. Her lips parted when my tongue brushed against them, her tongue finding mine. A different type of warmth washed over me as I held her in my arms. My mother’s words bounced around in my head. Sometimes things have to fall apart for better things to come together.

  I’d spent the last few months being jaded about love, afraid to make myself vulnerable to another woman because of what happened with Kayla. Perhaps things happened for a reason. If Kayla would’ve said yes, I would’ve never left Virginia and I wouldn’t be next to Ashton right now. It was so strange how quickly I developed feelings for a woman I’d met a few weeks ago. She finally pulled back and looked at me, her thumb stroking my cheek. My heart screamed to tell her how I felt, but my mind brought all my insecurities to the forefront. What if she didn’t feel the same way? What if she wasn’t ready to hear that? What if she rejected me?

  “What’s on your mind?” she asked softly.

  I swallowed hard. “Ashton, I…”

  She jumped up as a bell rang in the distance. “That’s the dinner bell. Come on,” she said and hopped off the futon. I sighed and slowly stood, watching her as she skipped down the stairs, her dress swishing around her knees.

  “Come on, slow poke!” she called out, stopping next to the Beetle and looking up at me. I ground my teeth as I walked down the steps to meet her, my unspoken truth tucked into the back of my mind.

  I think I’m falling in love with you.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ashton

  “So Ashton, how have things been going for you?” my mom asked as we sat down for dinner. I shrugged, picking up the bowl filled with mashed potatoes.

  “They’ve been fine, I guess.”

  “And how’s work? You do that call center thing, right?”

  O’Shea snorted beside me, taking the mashed potatoes from me when I finished. I gave him a subtle kick under the table, eliciting a grunt and a glare from him.

  “Yeah, things with work are fine. Pretty busy.”

  “You said that O’Shea here is fixing your car?” my dad asked as he put a chunk of pot roast on his plate.

  “Yeah, I am,” O’Shea answered. “Should be ready this week.”

  “That’s good to hear.” my dad replied. “So tell me, O’Shea, what brings you to a small town like this one?”

  O’Shea took a sip of his sweet tea. “Just wanted a fresh start somewhere new. Had a bad breakup and kind of wanted to leave that behind to clear my head.”

  “Oh, you poor dear,” my mother said, placing a hand on her heart. “You and Ashton are like two peas in a pod when it comes to relationships.”

  “Oh my God, Mom,” I muttered.

  “So you’re here alone? No family here?” my mother continued.

  “Yep. My family is back in Virginia. My mom is supposed to be visiting soon, so that’ll be nice.”

  “I’m sure you miss her,” she said with a sympathetic smile.

  My dad looked over at Savannah and frowned, watching as she tried to sneak a text message at the table. “Savannah, put that phone away. You know we don’t have gadgets at the table,” he stated firmly. She rolled her eyes and put the phone face down on the table.

  “Well, it’s not like anyone’s paying me any mind,” she mumbled.

  “Join the conversation, dear. You don’t have to wait until someone says something to you,” my dad said. Savannah narrowed her eyes at O’Shea as she cocked her head.

  “Is it true that once you go black, you end up in a wheelchair?” she asked, her face clear of emotion. O’Shea snickered as I sputtered my sweet tea, going into
a coughing fit.

  “Savannah!” my mother exclaimed. “You know that’s completely inappropriate!”

  “What? I was just asking!” she huffed.

  “What happened? What's with the wheelchair business?” my dad asked.

  “It’s from the movie White Chicks, remember, Dad?” Savannah mentioned.

  “Oh yeah, that’s right. Then do you have health insurance, Ashton? Sounds like serious business.”

  “Oh my God, Dad! It's not even true!” I exclaimed while O’Shea nearly choked on his own spit from laughing so hard.

  “It happened to Mrs. Paula from down the road, didn’t it, Janice? She came to the country club with that guy she called a black stallion and the next time we saw her, she was in a wheel chair with a cast.”

  “She was in a car accident, Phillip,” my mother stated, rubbing her temple. “Why on earth would one end up in a wheelchair after having relations with a black man?”

  “Because they have big penises,” Savannah quipped. My mother shot her a dirty look.

  “And how would you know about that?”

  “Man, this pot roast sure is amazing,” O’Shea said with a snicker, stuffing his mouth with food. Savannah shrugged.

  “I don't know. It’s just a rumor that goes around,” she said.

  O’Shea laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know anything about that, so I couldn’t tell you,” he said.

  My mother nodded. “Well. Your sister isn't in a wheelchair, so apparently it must not be true—”

  “Maybe she hasn't slept with him yet,” Savannah said and looked at me.

  “Oh God, kill me now,” I muttered to myself.

  My mother clapped her hands. “Okay, enough about wheelchairs and penises. Let’s focus on dinner, okay?”

  “Whatever,” Savannah muttered. I kept my eyes on my plate, silently wishing the dining room floor would open up and swallow me whole.

  As my family continued to talk to O’Shea, my mind went back to what happened in the loft. He’d started to tell me something, but what? Even though I’d heard the dinner bell, I could’ve waited a few minutes before I actually came down. But the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice made me nervous. I didn’t want him to remind me that he wasn’t ready or that he wasn’t looking for anything. I wanted to hold onto Alex’s words and hope that time would change his mind, but how would I know? I couldn’t admit it to him, at least not yet. I hadn’t even known the man for two months yet. What kind of clingy fool would I come off as to approach him and tell him that I was falling for him?

 

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