Drake and Ashley: The Complete Story

by Noelle Stevens

  Drake clenches his jaw. “When is a good time?”

  I hear Emily’s voice in my head. He probably just wants another chance to get you in bed, Ash. Don’t fall for it. “Uh, tomorrow?”

  “I’ll pick you up at eleven.”

  Emily’s going to kill me. “Okay.”

  He looks to my right and I follow his gaze. Jonathan is walking towards us.

  “See you tomorrow,” he says with a slight smile as he stands.

  As he speaks, I focus on his mouth and I imagine the feel of his luscious mouth on mine. Suddenly eager to meet with him the next day, I lift my gaze to meet his. “All right.”

  A moment later Jonathan sits in the seat that Drake just vacated. “Wasn’t that . . .”

  “My boss,” I interject. “Well, my ex-boss. Yeah.” I feel out of sorts, like Jonathan has caught me doing something wrong.

  “What did he want?”

  “Uh, he just stopped by to say hi.” The lie tastes sour on my tongue and I don’t like that I’m lying to Jonathan, but we’re not close enough for me to tell him the truth. Besides, since Drake and I are done, it’s irrelevant. At least I think we’re done.

  The thought that there may be a chance for us makes me giddy. “Thanks for the drink,” I say, then I take a big swallow.

  He seems uncertain with what may or may not be going on between me and my former boss. “Sure.”

  I force thoughts of Drake out of my mind and enjoy the rest of my date with Jonathan.

  DRAKE

  As I sit behind the wheel of my truck, I run my fingers through my hair and stare at the entrance to the dance club. I picture Ashley in the arms of the man she’s out with, the man who her roommate says she’s getting serious with, and an unfamiliar feeling of possessiveness grows within me.

  I don’t like what this woman is doing to me. I’m not used to being so consumed by a woman, and I don’t like it. I have other things I need to be focusing on—primarily my consulting business. I don’t have time for this. If I’m honest with myself, I’m not used to being the pursuer. Typically, I’m the one who has to fend off the advances of the women I date. I choose who I want to go out with, the woman agrees, and we have a good time. I’ve never had a woman turn me down before. I guess I’ve taken for granted that I’ll get whomever I want.

  Clearly, Ashley Spencer is not a typical woman. When I’d first gotten to know her at my cabin she’d been resistant to me. It was only after I’d seduced her while watching a movie that she’d seemed to succumb to my charms. But the next day she’d been more than happy to leave me behind while she waited for her car to be fixed.

  I’m just glad I decided to check on her at the motel in town. I shudder to think what that creep from the bar might have done if I hadn’t shown up. Then I’d had to practically force her to come back to my cabin with me. When she’d relented, I’d been surprised by how relieved I was, even though I knew her presence would interfere with my job responsibilities.

  Now, as I back out of the parking space, I think about how easy it was to get her to agree to meet with me tomorrow, but I know it’s only because she wanted to get rid of me before Jonathan came back.

  I’m not sure how that makes me feel. Does she care so much about him that she would do anything to be rid of me? The realization cuts me in a way that astonishes me.

  Maybe it was underhanded of me to come looking for her tonight, but after talking to her roommate earlier I’d begun to feel desperate to talk to her myself. It had been a purely lucky guess on my part that she would show up at the dance club again. And it had been torture for me to wait for a moment for her to be alone so I could approach her—particularly because I’d had to watch her dance with Jonathan for quite a while first. She seemed to be having a good time with him, and I’d almost left without talking to her.

  Maybe she really is starting to get serious with him. Maybe I should just try to forget her and move on with my life.

  Even though that would make my life easier, I need to talk to her—face to face—one last time, before I can move on.

  Thirty-Three

  ASHLEY

  The next morning Emily asks me how my date with Jonathan went.

  “We had a good time again,” I say.

  “Yay.” She smiles.

  I decide to tell her about the latest Drake news even though I’m certain she’s going to give me grief. “Yeah, and guess who came to the dance club looking for me.”

  Her eyes widen. “No.”

  I nod.

  “Wait, are you saying he came to the club just to find you, or that he was at the club too?”

  A flutter of pleasure whispers through me. “He came to the club just to find me.”

  Her eyebrows pull together. “Did you talk to him? What did he say?”

  “He said he wanted to talk to me, but I told him it wasn’t a good time.”

  “You blew him off. Good for you.”

  Here we go. “Not exactly.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I agreed to talk to him today.”

  “What did you agree to, exactly?”

  “He’s going to pick me up later this morning and we’re going to talk.”

  “About what?”

  Frustrated with her incessant questions, my response is sharper than I mean it to be. “How the heck should I know? I haven’t had a chance to talk to him since I quit. You’ve talked to him more than I have.”

  “You don’t have to bite my head off,” she mutters.

  My shoulders slump. “I’m sorry, Em. This whole thing is just stressing me out.”

  “I can see that. Which is exactly why you should tell him where he can go.” She frowns. “I mean, is he really worth all this trouble?”

  I think about that for a minute, then I nod. “Yeah, he kind of is. He might be a little rough around the edges when it comes to relationships, but I’ve seen glimpses of him that I really, really like.”

  “Wait. I thought he wasn’t interested in having a relationship.”

  There is that. “Yeah, that’s what he said.”

  “I think you’re making a mistake in even talking to him.”

  “You don’t know him like I do. You’re not the bee in this honey/bee thing.”

  She laughs. “You’re crazy.”

  “Maybe I am, but I just want to hear what he has to say.”

  “Fine. Just don’t come crying to me when he breaks your heart.”

  I think it’s too late for that, as I know I’ve already fallen hard for him. Now it’s just a matter of whether my heart will be really and truly broken, or if there’s a chance that there could be a future for us.

  I take my time getting ready for my date, or appointment, or whatever it is Drake and I have lined up. I try on several outfits—much to Emily’s annoyance, since she’s unhappy that I’m going at all. Finally, I decide on my favorite pair of jeans and a flattering blouse.

  At ten minutes to eleven I’m ready, and I find Emily sitting on the couch texting. She looks up when I walk into the room.

  “You look nice,” she says with a frown.

  “Thanks.”

  “I think we need to discuss where you plan on going with this conversation.”

  My eyebrows rise as I sit beside her. “How can we do that when I have no idea what he’s going to say?”

  She purses her lips. “You can still have talking points ready to go.”

  “Okay. Like what?”

  Sitting up straighter, she smiles. “All right.” She clears her throat like this is a presentation she’s been waiting to give. “One, you aren’t interested in being his little assistant anymore. Two, no more sleeping together unless you’re in a serious relationship. And three, if he wants to date you, he can’t date any other women.”

  I roll my eyes. “Maybe I’d better write these down.”

  “Yes. You probably should. I know you, Ash. You’re going to get all distracted by his extreme hotness and forget everything we’
ve discussed.”

  I laugh, but I know she’s probably right. “What if he just wants to tell me he never wants to see me again?”

  She smiles. “That would be great. Then your problems are over.”

  “You don’t even know him, Emily, so how can you say that?”

  “I don’t have to know him to see the effect he’s had on you. That’s the only thing that matters. He’s made you unhappy, so he has to go.”

  I frown. I’m only unhappy when I think he’s not interested in me. When I’m with him I’m very happy. He makes me feel good. Except for that day in his office when he told me I was not his friend. That stung.

  “Look, Ash. You’ve got to look out for yourself. No one cares more about your happiness than you do, okay? So be wary of him. If he tries to convince you to be with him, when he tries to convince you to be with him, figure out his motives. That’s the only way you can protect yourself.”

  Knowing Emily only wants what is best for me, I smile. “He might just want to talk to me about coming back to work for him, you know.”

  She laughs. “I don’t think he would have tracked you down at the dance club for that reason. Do you?”

  I hope not. I shrug. “I don’t know. I guess not.”

  “No. He wouldn’t. I know men like him. He’s just not happy that you lost interest in him. He’s probably not used to that.”

  “So, you think he’s going to say what, exactly?”

  A knock at the door interrupts our conversation. My heart rate skyrockets as I walk towards the door.

  Thirty-Four

  DRAKE

  I hear footsteps approach the door and I worry that it will be Ashley’s roommate telling me that Ashley changed her mind and doesn’t want to see me. A moment later the door swings open and I see Ashley standing on the threshold.

  “Hi, Drake,” she says with a shy smile.

  I want to drag her against me, but I manage to keep my cool. “Good morning.” I hold out a ridiculously expensive flower arrangement.

  “They’re beautiful,” she says as she takes them from me.

  “I want to apologize for how rude I was to you the other day,” I say.

  She nods, but doesn’t say That’s okay, or I forgive you. Instead, after a moment she says, “Do you want to come in?”

  I glance behind her and see her roommate sitting on the couch. “I was hoping we could go for a drive.”

  “Okay. Come in for a minute while I put these in water.”

  I follow her inside and close the door behind me. “Hello,” I say to her roommate.

  “Hi.”

  The woman looks at me with disdain and I wonder why she seems to dislike me so much. I decide not to worry about her, and instead I focus on Ashley, who’s adding water to the vase of flowers.

  “Okay,” Ashley says. “I’m ready.”

  When she takes a jacket out of a hall closet, I reach for it. “Let me,” I say, and I hold her jacket open while she snakes her arms through the sleeves.

  “See you later, Em,” she says to her roommate.

  “Bye,” Emily says.

  We walk out the door and I lead the way to my truck. Though I want to take her hand, I decide that would be unwise at this point. I haven’t decided if I want to tell her I think it’s best that we never see each other again, or if I want to pull her into my arms and never let her go.

  My hope is that after we spend some time together I’ll be able to get over her and get back to my life—focusing on work, going out with whomever I want, when I want, and basically being the selfish jerk that I’ve always been. I’ve been happy with that life, and I’m not eager to have her disrupt my comfortable existence.

  I open the door to the passenger side of my truck and she reaches for the handle to pull herself inside. “Do you need some help?” I ask, kind of hoping I’ll have an excuse to touch her.

  “No,” she says as she hoists herself into the truck. “I’ve got it.”

  I shut the door, then climb behind the wheel.

  “Where are we going to go?” she asks.

  “I thought we’d head south. There’s some pretty scenery that way.”

  “Okay.” She’s quiet as I pull away from the curb.

  We drive in silence for several minutes before she turns to me. “What is this about, Drake? What did you want to talk to me about?”

  Panic swells within me and I’m not sure how to explain how I feel—mostly because I’m not sure how I feel. I can’t get her out of my head, but I want to get her out of my head.

  “First,” I begin, “I wanted to apologize for being such a jerk the other day.” My face heats with shame at the memory.

  “You already apologized for that.”

  I nod, feeling like more of an idiot.

  “Why, though?” she says. “Why did you say that to me? It really hurt my feelings.”

  My gut twists with mortification to know I made her feel that way, and I know I have no excuse for my behavior. I replay our interchange four days earlier and cringe.

  “Is everything okay?” she’d asked softly. “I mean, you seemed distracted in that meeting today.”

  I’d stared at her, then said, “Why the hell do you think you have the right to ask me that?”

  Her eyes had widened in shock.

  “We’re not friends, Ms. Spencer,” I’d said. “I am your employer. Nothing more. Never forget that.”

  Deep shame courses through me as I picture the shock on her face. I’d been so preoccupied with thinking about her that day, that’s why I’d been distracted in that meeting. I’d been thinking about our tryst the afternoon before and her words that had left me reeling, words that had emphasized what a selfish lowlife I really am.

  When she’d come into my office to talk to me, she’d exuded such a caring attitude that it had only made me feel worse. I’d hoped that if I could somehow shake her loose from my mind, then I could go back to living my life the way I was comfortable with. I’d never expected her to quit.

  I decide to deflect her question for the moment with one of my own. “Your roommate said you’re getting serious with Jonathan.” I nearly choke on his name, but I need to know if it’s true. Because if it is, there’s no point in trying to figure out how I may or may not feel. If she’s getting serious with him, then I’ll step aside.

  My pulse rate shoots skyward as I wait for her reply.

  After a moment of silence, she says, “I’m not sure yet.”

  Her ambiguous answer throws me off-kilter. How am I supposed to respond to that? I want her to either say yes or no. Then my path will be clear.

  “Why do you want to know?” she asks.

  “That’s a fair question.” And one that I don’t want to answer just yet. I need more information first. “Do you want to be in a serious relationship?”

  She stares at me and bites the inside of her lip. “That depends,” she finally says.

  I glance at her, then look back at the road. “On what?”

  “On who I’m dating.”

  “I thought you were dating Jonathan.”

  “We’ve been out a few times, yes.”

  What’s she trying to say? She seems as reticent as I am to say what she’s really thinking, so I decide it’s up to me to get the ball rolling. After all, this meeting was my idea. “I’m having a hard time forgetting about the times we spent together,” I say, surprising myself with the admission, but glad to get it out there.

  Thirty-Five

  ASHLEY

  His statement is so unexpected that my heart reels. “What are you saying?” Does he feel towards me the same way I feel towards him? The idea fills me with wild optimism. Maybe we can be together.

  “Do you ever think about the time we spent at the cabin?” he says as he glances at me.

  Do I? Like, all the time. But do I want to admit that to him? I remember Emily’s talking points and try to play it cool. “Sometimes,” I say, which is a big fat lie. I think about that time co
nstantly.

  He nods.

  We’re quiet for several moments. “I’m not going to come back to Drake Consulting,” I say, wanting to set him straight on talking point number one.

  “No,” he immediately says. “No, that was a mistake.”

  Though I’m the one who brought it up, his absolute certainty that it was a mistake annoys me. “Then why did you hire me?”

  He looks at me for a moment, then looks back at the road. “It was a mistake.”

  “Yeah, you said that. It was your mistake.”

  He frowns in my direction. “I would never have hired you if you hadn’t applied for the job.”

  He has me there, so I let the matter drop. My gaze goes to the window and I take in the beautiful scenery. “It’s really pretty here,” I say, trying to change the subject.

  “Yeah. It’s a nice drive.”

  I think about talking points two and three: No sleeping together unless we’re in a serious relationship, and if he wants to date me it has to be exclusive. It seems premature to bring those up, so I keep them to myself, proud that I remembered them at all. I turn to him. “Do you take this drive very often?”

  He smiles at me. “Not as often as I’d like.”

  I smile back. “Kind of like our ride up to the ridge at your cabin, huh?”

  He laughs. “Yeah. Exactly like that.”

  I have fond memories of that ride, and I think about the connection I felt with him. Lost in our own thoughts, we’re quiet until I ask, “Why do you work so much?”

  Staring forward, he purses his lips as he seems to consider my question, then he looks at me and smiles. “I like what I do.” He turns back to the road.

  “Don’t you want to have a life outside of work?”

  “I have a life.” His tone of voice suggests that he feels defensive about that.

  “You do, huh? What do you do in this ‘life outside of work’?”