Drake and Ashley: The Complete Story

by Noelle Stevens

  DRAKE

  I’m beyond thrilled to know that Ashley is single. But I also understand her reticence. It doesn’t feel right to talk to her about Rachel, and to tell the truth, I’m not one hundred percent sure what I’m going to do about her—break up with her or leave things as they are. She’s a convenient girlfriend—busy most of the time, but available when I need her.

  It’s true that I’m not exclusive to Rachel, although I rarely have time to date anyone else—my work keeps me much too busy. But things are different now. Now Ashley is in my life.

  “Drake?” Ashley says beside me.

  I turn to her, and when I look into those beautiful eyes, my heart melts a little. I cup her chin in my hand and turn her head so that our lips are only inches apart. She catches her breath, and I know she wants me to kiss her as much as I want to.

  ASHLEY

  When Drake’s mouth presses against mine, I fervently return his kiss. This man makes me feel so wanted, so beautiful, so good, and I realize I’m falling in love with him.

  The thought terrifies me. I don’t want to give him the power to break my heart, but that is exactly what I’m doing. Yet I can’t seem to stop myself.

  My arms wind around his neck and I savor the feel of his strong arms around me. I’m loving this. Loving him, and I want it to go on forever.

  Still, there’s Rachel to consider, and that cools my passion. After a moment, I pull away.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  To me, the problem is obvious. Why can’t he see it? I stare at him.

  “Ashley? What is it?”

  Clearly, he needs me to spell it out. I do in one word. “Rachel.”

  With a sigh, he tilts his head back, then he looks at me and frowns.

  DRAKE

  I can see if I want things to go anywhere with Ashley, I’m going to have to convince her that Rachel is a non-issue.

  “Like I said,” I say, “Rachel and I aren’t serious.”

  One of her eyebrows arches. “I’m not so sure she believes that.”

  I know she’s right, but I hate to admit it. Because admitting that is almost like saying Rachel and I are serious. And to my mind we definitely are not.

  “Whether you’re serious with her or not,” she says, “as long as you’re seeing her, I can’t be with you.”

  I don’t like the position she’s putting me in, although I can’t exactly fault her for it. At that moment I make a decision. I tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, then softly say, “The next time I see her, I’ll let her know it’s over.”

  A bright smile lights Ashley’s face. “Really?”

  I nod, although a sliver of doubt wedges itself into my mind. After all, I’ve known Rachel for nearly two years, whereas I’ve only known Ashley for a few days—and there’s still much I don’t know about her.

  Ashley throws her arms around me and I accept her affection without hesitation.

  ASHLEY

  I’m beyond thrilled that Drake has promised to break things off with Rachel, and suddenly I’m ready to give myself to him wholeheartedly. I press my lips to his, and when his hands begin to wander, I don’t stop them. Then, when he suggests we head to his bedroom, I willingly follow him.

  ASHLEY

  Later, we work together in the kitchen to make dinner. Drake sets the table for two while I toss a salad. He sets the grilled pork chops on the table, along with the salad and rolls, then he holds the chair out for me. We begin eating, but a few minutes later we’re interrupted by a knock on the front door.

  “Are you expecting someone?” I ask.

  A look of mild panic fills his eyes. He stands, then picks up my plate and hands it to me. “Would you do me a favor and take this up to your room?”

  A sinking sensation settles in the pit of my stomach. “Why? Who is it?”

  “Please, Ashley.”

  Insistent knocking sounds again.

  He guides me toward the stairs, and I let him. “It’s Rachel, isn’t it?”

  He stops and looks at me. “I don’t know. Maybe. She said she might come back tonight, but I didn’t think she would.”

  “But you’re going to break up with her, right?” The desperation in my voice is loud and clear, and when I look at Drake’s face, doubts about his earlier promise cascade over me.

  “I just . . .” His eyes are hooded, like he’s not being completely truthful. “I need some time to talk to her.”

  “Uh-huh.” I feel like garbage, like his garbage. Trash that he’s used up and thrown away because he’s done with me. I scold myself as I climb the stairs. You are a freaking idiot, Ashley. You did this with him before. Why did you think it would be any different this time? Did you actually believe him when he said he’d dump Rachel for you? Why? Why would he do that? I go into my room and set my plate on the bed, then look out the window and see Rachel’s black Escalade parked out front.

  Tears fill my eyes and slide down my face, but even so, I go to my open bedroom door and listen to the voices floating up the stairs. It’s difficult to hear, so I go nearer the top of the stairs where I can hear better, but still stay out of sight.

  “She’s still here?” Rachel says.

  “She’s leaving tomorrow,” Drake says.

  “It’s about time. I can’t believe you hired some little college girl to be your housekeeper. Where did you even find her?”

  So she believes I’m his housekeeper now? My eyes narrow as I focus on the conversation going on downstairs.

  “Online,” Drake says. “I just needed a little help around here. I’m sorry it made you uncomfortable, love. I’m taking her back to town tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Drake,” she says.

  Livid, I curl my hands into fists and I want to rush down the stairs and tell The Witch what Drake and I were doing only an hour earlier. But I know he’d deny it, and she would believe him. The hurt that swells within me nearly overwhelms me.

  I thought we had a connection, Drake. I thought I meant something to you, but I guess since I’m leaving tomorrow, there’s no point in rocking the boat with the woman you’ve been dating for a year. Even though you told me you were going to break up with her.

  Betrayal, hot and thick, pours over me. I’ve heard enough. I trudge back to my room, close the door, and sink onto the bed. The smell from the food on my plate makes me gag, but I swallow down the urge to vomit. I stay in my room until bedtime. There’s no way I’m going to even pretend to be Drake’s housekeeper now, and I hope he makes The Witch clean up the dinner dishes, although I’m certain he’ll do the work himself.

  When I hear footsteps on the stairs, then a door close, I peek into the hall and see that the only closed door is Drake’s. On the pretense of going to the bathroom, I walk down the hall, but glance into the guest room and see that it’s empty. I hear the unmistakable sound of laughter coming from Drake’s room and know that the bed I so recently shared with Drake will now be occupied by another.

  Appalled that he isn’t even trying to hide the fact that he’s such a two-timing lowlife, and before I think it through, I walk to his bedroom door and loudly knock. A moment later he opens the door a few inches.

  “Ashley,” he says, like he’s surprised to see me.

  “Hello, Mr. Drake.”

  “What do you want?”

  I speak loudly. I want to make sure The Witch hears me. “I just wanted to see if you need anything before I go to bed. Fresh sheets, maybe?”

  His eyes signal a warning and he speaks through clenched teeth. “We’re fine, thanks.”

  “Are you? Because when we were in the jacuzzi earlier . . .” I let my sentence trail off, my point made.

  The door is yanked from Drake’s hand and opens wide to reveal The Witch in all her haughty glory. “What is going on here?”

  When our eyes meet, I’m an insect under a microscope—exposed and about to be squashed. “I was just checking with Mr. Drake to see if he needs anything.”

  “
You said you were in the jacuzzi with him earlier,” she says. “Did I hear you right?”

  Fury is clear in Drake’s eyes as he stares at me, but I don’t care. He’s broken my heart, and now I want to strike out and make him hurt too. “Yes,” I say, letting her fill in the blanks.

  “Drake?” she says as she looks at him.

  “I can explain,” he says.

  “I’d like to hear it,” she responds, her hands on her hips.

  So would I. I stand there waiting to hear how he’s going to get out of this.

  “Maybe we can talk in private,” he says to her.

  Her gaze goes to me. “No. I’d like to know if she agrees with your explanation.”

  I smile, suddenly liking Rachel.

  Thirty-Six

  ASHLEY

  Drake sighs. “Look, Rach, I didn’t want to tell you like this, but if this is how you want to do it, then okay.”

  A look of uncertainty comes over Rachel’s face, but she stays silent.

  “Ashley isn’t my housekeeper,” Drake says.

  Rachel glances at me, then looks at Drake. “Oh? Then who is she?”

  “She’s a woman whose car slid off the road, and who I almost ran over.”

  My mouth falls open. He’s telling her the truth? I think my assessment of Drake as a two-timing lowlife may have been a bit too hasty.

  “What?” Rachel asks, clearly confused. “When did this happen?”

  “On Friday evening.”

  “Wait. She’s been here for four days?”

  “More or less, yes.”

  “Why did you tell me she’s your housekeeper?”

  Rachel is obviously upset, but I’m too stunned to say anything.

  “It just seemed simpler,” he says.

  “Simpler,” she echoes as she looks just past his shoulder. Then she looks at me. “Did you sleep with him?” Not waiting for an answer, she looks at Drake. “Did you sleep with her?”

  “You and I . . . we’re not exclusive, Rach,” Drake says.

  Inwardly, I smile. True, he didn’t come out and admit that we slept together, but he didn’t deny it either.

  “You weasel,” she says, her voice rising. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me.”

  “Do what? I didn’t ask you to come here. You did it all on your own.”

  I can see this argument doesn’t involve me, so I back away a few steps, then turn and go into my bedroom and quietly close my door. Maybe he is going to break up with her. Maybe he was telling me the truth. The idea thrills me.

  I’m so caught up in my own fantasies that when I hear the Escalade start up, I’m taken by surprise. I look out my window and see Rachel’s taillights fading into the distance.

  Sudden pounding on my door startles me. “Come in,” I say.

  Drake flings my door open, his face red and his eyes hard. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “What?” My earlier fantasy that he’s doing this all for me vanishes.

  He stays in the doorway, but I can see the storm clouds in his eyes from where I stand next to the window. “Really?” he says. “You’re going to play dumb?”

  I gaze at him, but then my earlier hurt returns full-force and I decide to let him know how I feel. “I heard what you said to her. That you found me online and that I’d be gone tomorrow. So sorry it made you uncomfortable, love.” Heavy sarcasm laces my voice. My eyes narrow. “Is that how you really feel about me? Like I’m just…hired help?” After the intimacy we shared, I feel like dirt. Tears fill my eyes and begin rolling down my face.

  Drake stares at the floor, and when he looks up, remorse has replaced the rage on his face. He walks towards me. “I’m sorry, Ashley. That’s not how I feel at all.” He strokes my face, wiping a tear from my cheek. “I just…well, I had second thoughts about breaking things off with her.”

  Stunned, I stare at him a moment. “Why? Why did you have second thoughts?” I thought this was all settled. I thought you wanted me. I feel like a fool for believing him, for getting caught up in the moment.

  Both his hands slide through his hair, then they hang at his side. “I suppose I wanted to keep things . . . I don’t know. Separate.”

  I don’t understand. At all. “Separate? What do you mean?”

  He sits on my bed and pulls me onto his lap. To my surprise, I let him. “These last few days with you have been a lot of fun,” he says. “It’s been like a respite from real life.” He pauses. “Rachel represents real life. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I just want to enjoy this, enjoy you, a little longer. Before I have to get back to reality.”

  I like the way it feels to be in his arms, but I don’t like that I’m so obviously not part of real life for him. That means he sees no future for us. The stark truth hits me hard, and I scold myself for being so naive.

  What? You thought he’d take you home with him to Reno and you’d be his new girlfriend?

  I feel stupid for not realizing the truth sooner. How could I have not thought this through? When I leave the next day, I’ll never see him again because he won’t want to see me again. I’m not real life. I’m just for fun, just for play.

  I stand and walk across the room, putting as much distance between the two of us as I can without actually leaving the room.

  “What’s wrong?” Drake asks.

  Is he really that dense? “I think you should go,” I say, embarrassed to tell him that I’d actually thought there could be a future for us.

  He stands and comes towards me, but I put my hands up to stop him, not willing to let myself fall for his charms again. Now I know the score, I know what he really thinks. I’m for fun and games, but Rachel is real life. Therefore, I’m not real life. “I’m tired, Drake. I just want to go to sleep.”

  He frowns, but doesn’t argue. “Okay. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  DRAKE

  I leave Ashley’s room, knowing I’ve messed everything up. Now Rachel won’t have anything to do with me. And Ashley… Well, I blew it there too.

  Isn’t that what you want? No commitments? Nothing tying you down?

  I go into my bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror and try to analyze what’s going on in my head. But that’s the problem. I don’t know what I want.

  You want to have your cake and eat it too. But that’s not how it’s going to work this time.

  Furious that I screwed up so badly, I slam my fists on the granite countertop, then stalk out of my bedroom and down the stairs, shutting myself in my office and losing myself in work.

  Thirty-Seven

  ASHLEY

  At breakfast the next morning I eat the bacon and eggs Drake places on the table, but when he doesn’t try to draw me into a conversation, I eat in silence. When we’re done, I offer to clean up.

  “Thanks,” he says. “I have work to do. Let me know when you’re ready for me to take you to get your car.”

  I nod, resigned to the fact that my reality is now upon me. I will get my car, drive to Reno, stay with Emily while I look for a job, then hopefully get on my feet so I can take care of myself. I can chalk up this experience with Drake as just a massive mistake from which I can learn what not to do in the future.

  When the kitchen is clean, I call the garage to see how my car repair is coming along, trying to forget the fact that I have no idea how I’m going to pay for it.

  “It will be ready for you to pick up in an hour,” the man tells me.

  “Great. I’ll see you then.” I hang up and decide I’ll try to work out a payment plan with the garage to pay for the repairs.

  Now that I know how I’m going to handle that problem, I go upstairs, shower, then pack my things. I drag my suitcases down the stairs and set them near the front door, then go to Drake’s office. “I’m ready to get my car now,” I say from the doorway.

  He looks at me impassively. “Okay. Give me a second to finish what I’m doing and I’ll take you to town.”

  Sadness sweeps over me as I nod. This h
ouse has been a refuge for me for the last few days—at least up until last night. Both the good and the bad of that is due to Drake. Yes, he broke my heart, but that doesn’t lessen how much I’ve grown to care for him. The way he behaved with me and Rachel was stupid and selfish, but as I think about the good times we had, I can’t deny that I wish it had turned out differently and that he had followed through on breaking up with her and choosing me.

  I’m going to miss you, you sweet, idiotic jerk.

  Watching him for a moment, I try to memorize the curve of his jaw, the dimple on his cheek, the feel of his lips on mine. The memories overwhelm me and I turn away and go into the living room and sit on the couch. Even that brings back memories. How can I have so many memories after such a short period of time? I shake my head as desolation settles over me like a heavy blanket.

  I have to move forward now. I have to forget about Colton Drake. I have to forget about the connection I felt with him, the love that began blooming inside of me. I have to forget, but I know it won’t be easy.

  “Ready?” he says as he walks into the living room.

  I’m nowhere near ready to say good-bye, but I know I don’t have a choice. “Yeah.” I walk toward my luggage.

  “I’ll get that,” he says. “You go ahead and get in the truck.”

  Having no energy to argue, I nod and walk out to his truck.

  A moment later he follows me, carrying my suitcases. He places them in the back, then gets behind the wheel.

  Why does this feel so familiar? Oh yeah, because three days earlier we went through this same exercise, only I ended up coming back and falling for him even harder. This time I know I won’t be coming back, so I try to empty my mind of all the memories of the last few days.

  Before long we pull up to the garage.

  “Do you want me to come in with you?” he asks.