Quinn removes a clip and carefully combs a section of my hair. “We should go out sometime. Go let loose.”
“Sure, that sounds fun,” I readily agree.
She begins trimming away once more with the scissors. “Friday?”
I had planned on working, but I can skip a night. The next few months’ rent is covered, so I can afford to go in only on Saturday. Weekends are when the tips are the best, but it’ll be fine. “Sure,” I tell her.
“I’ll see if I can get the others to come out, too.”
We chat while she works on my hair, and after I leave the salon, I do a little shopping. New outfits for the club are a must.
Later that afternoon, I’m in dire need of clean clothes. It’s time to try out the washer and dryer. The laundry room is located on the main floor, and it’s a long, narrow room with tan walls. There’s a white counter with a sink, and beside the counter are two machines that I am unfamiliar with. I’ve never washed my own laundry before, and I’m confused. I don’t even know where to begin.
I glance at the dark cupboards overhead and reach for them, peeking inside. I find a couple bottles of laundry detergent, and one that says it’s fabric softener. I frown at the bottles.
“Problem?”
Gabe’s voice startles me, and I spin around to find him standing in the doorway. I’d forgotten that he has today off. My face heats. “No, I’m good.” I really don’t want to admit that I’ve never washed clothes before.
Thankfully, he nods and walks away.
I turn back to the machines and step toward the washer. How do I get the door open? Do I just pull it upwards? There should be directions somewhere.
Gabe reappears in the doorway, his expression kind. “Let me help you, or you’re going to shrink all your clothes.”
I nod with resignation. “That might be wise. Thanks.”
After he helps me sort my laundry—which has my face turning bright red—and the machine is properly running, Gabe leaves me to my own devices. The clothes will probably take a while, so I decide to take advantage of the pool that I have yet to try out.
Ten
Channing
It’s hot as hell today, and I welcome the cool air as I close the door behind me. I have an hour to kill before I’m due for my shift at the electronics store. My stomach rumbles loudly, and I detour to the kitchen instead of discarding my things up in my room.
After setting down my backpack, I walk to the refrigerator. I’m in the middle of rummaging around it for something to eat when I hear someone in the laundry room. I know Gabe has the day off, so it’s either him or Ashton. Her car was also parked out front in the driveway.
After grabbing a can of soda, I amble down the hall to peek into the laundry room. Gabe’s grabbing handfuls of feminine clothing and lingerie from the washer and shoving them into the dryer. A lace bra drops to the floor, and Gabe mutters a curse under his breath.
“What are you doing?” I ask with amusement.
My brother has never been a fan of doing his own laundry, and he’d rather shove it off onto someone else if he can get away with it. He also wouldn’t volunteer to do someone else’s unless he was getting something out of the deal.
Gabe looks less than thrilled to see me as he bends down and picks up the bra from the floor. “I think Ashton forgot about her laundry, and I don’t want to be a dick and point it out to her. She was embarrassed earlier when I caught her trying to figure out the washing machine.”
“Where is she?” I ask.
“She’s by the pool. Sleeping, I think.” He tosses the bra in the dryer before bending over the washer to grab another handful.
I watch more lingerie join the others. “Should this stuff be dried?” I know enough about women to know that they’re particularly picky about what goes in the dryer.
Gabe pauses and looks at me with confusion. “Beats me.”
I move around him and peer into the dryer. I pluck out the first bra I see, and it’s red and gold, and lacy as shit. An image of Ashton wearing it flashes in my mind, and I try to shake it off. “It’s line dry only,” I say after studying the tag.
Gabe scowls at me.
“I’ll take care of it,” I offer. If Gabe finishes this for her, she’ll be wishing he hadn’t.
“Be my guest.” He wanders out of the laundry room with every intention of distancing himself from the mess.
The next few minutes are spent separating the items that need to be line dried. As I go through them, I can’t resist eyeing some of the lingerie. Damn, the woman has impeccable taste. If I saw her in any of these, my dick would stand to attention and demand she do something about it. After everything has been sorted, I carry the armful of lingerie upstairs to the second-floor bathroom. After dumping the delicate scraps of fabric on the counter, I pull back the shower curtain. Then, I begin tossing the stuff over the bar.
When I’m finished, I enter my room and dig around the dresser for a fresh shirt for my upcoming shift. That’s when I realize that Ashton’s not going to learn anything if no one points out where she’s going wrong. She probably wouldn’t have looked at the tags and likely would have tossed everything into the dryer.
Instead of making myself a meal like I’d originally intended, I walk past the kitchen and head outside to the patio. Sure enough, Ashton is stretched out on a lounger with her eyes closed.
As I walk closer, my eyes hungrily wander over her. She’s wearing an aqua-colored bikini that shows off her flawless skin, full breasts, and toned stomach. My eyes halt on her hips. I can see the outline of her mound beneath the fabric of her bikini bottoms. As much as I want to get her out of my head, my body would rather bury itself inside her. My eyes slide up to her face where my shadow has blocked the sun.
Her eyes slowly open, and those full lips curve upwards into a seductive smile. “Like what you see?” she asks in a throaty voice.
Holy fuck. That voice goes straight to my dick.
As the sleep clears from her brown eyes, they widen as she abruptly sits up. “Shit,” she gasps, looking mortified. “I didn’t mean…”
Ah, there’s the awkward Ashton that I’m accustomed to. As I gaze down at her, I know that there’s more to her than just the insecure side that peeks out every now and then. Somewhere beneath that uncertainty is a seductress just waiting to be let out. And damned if I don’t want to peel through her layers and find where she’s hiding.
Ashton clears her throat as the silence on my end drags on. “Was there something you wanted?” she asks tentatively.
Yeah, you. “You left your stuff in the washing machine.”
Realization dawns across her face, and she scrambles to her feet, her breasts swaying with the quick movement.
“I took care of it,” I tell her, struggling to yank my eyes from her body.
“What do you mean you took care of it?”
My eyes lift back up to her face, and she’s looking at me expectantly. “The stuff that could be dried is in the dryer. Most of the lingerie you had in there suggests it be line dried, so I hung those in the bathroom,” I explain.
Her lush lips part, and she looks uncomfortable that I’d handled her stuff.
“I was just trying to be helpful.”
“Uh, thanks.”
Another awkward moment of silence descends over us.
“Excuse me,” she murmurs, and she turns and walks across the patio to go inside the house.
My eyes helplessly follow her, and my attention is now focused on her ass. The bikini bottoms are showing off her perfect cheeks, and they sway with each step she takes.
As soon as she’s out of sight, I reach down and adjust myself. I should have never touched her lingerie.
Damn.
Eleven
Ashton
I'm looking forward to going out tonight with Quinn and the others. I believe Sebastian's coming, his friend Remington, Colt and his friend Beck, and Channing. Gabe works. Quinn says that Colt knows a bouncer at a bar
, so Quinn, Harper, and I should be able to get in, too.
My thoughts shift to Channing as I sit on the edge of my bed and slip on my high heels. I recall our conversation by the pool the other day, and my face heats. I have no idea what he thinks of me, and I tell myself that I shouldn't care. But for some reason, I do. There's just something about him that draws my interest. Maybe it's just the attraction? I've never felt anything like this before, not even with Hayden.
I frown as I straighten my back, my thoughts focused on the past. Hayden's a good-looking man, but there just wasn't anything there. Yes, I'd still had sex with him. My forehead creases. Hayden was the one who took my virginity, and to be honest, the sex was just...average. Of course, with my lack of experience, who am I to judge? Still, there's just so much talk about sex in our culture and how great orgasms are. Even I had known that something was missing. I've never experienced anything that made me catch my breath or cry out. All I’d felt was just a faint murmur of pleasure. Certainly nothing to get excited over, and there were plenty of times that I came up with excuses to avoid sleeping with Hayden.
My lips press together tightly. I should have gotten out sooner instead of giving into the pressure. I will always regret going along with what my father wanted, but it's over and done with. I can't go back; I can only move forward.
Knowing I can't go into tonight with my past nipping at my heels, I rise to my feet and try to shake off my melancholy thoughts. Tonight will be fun, and I need a little of that right now. Typically, social gatherings make me nervous, but not tonight. Bars are loud, and the entire evening will be about drinking and dancing. Conversation probably won't play a huge part of the evening, and I'm more than okay with that.
A knock comes from the other side of my closed door, and I walk over and open it. Harper stands there, and she blinks when she sees me. "Whoa," she says with admiration.
I glance down at myself. "Too much?"
I'd chosen one of the new dresses that I'd bought the other day. It's a simple, black halter that hides all my cleavage, and the back has crisscrossing straps. The bottom of the dress forms to my hips and ends a little past mid-thigh. Because we're going to a bar, and Quinn had warned me it wasn't one to get too excited over, I’d chosen high heels that are a shade of purple. They have delicate straps crisscrossing around my ankles. I figure the flash of color will minimize the classiness of the dress.
Harper shakes her head. "Not at all. You look like you're ready to crush some egos tonight."
I take in Harper's outfit, which is more casual than mine. She's wearing a white, sleeveless shirt that forms to her full breasts, and red shorts that look like a skirt. It's casual, but a killer outfit with her curves. "I think you're going to be doing some of that on your own."
"Are we leaving or what?" Quinn yells from downstairs.
Harper's lips curve into an amused smile. "Channing and Sebastian already left, and Colt took off to meet with Beck. She's anxious to get going, too."
We make our way downstairs and find Quinn standing in the foyer at the base of the stairs, impatiently waiting. I blink when I see her. Her style is just so incredibly unique, and I admire her choice tonight. Her blue hair is pulled up into a casual knot, and she's wearing a black, shift dress that has a beautiful fallen angel on the front. The hem reaches about mid-thigh on her, and then the high-heeled boots she's wearing reach almost to her knees. The outfit is simple, but on Quinn, it's stunning.
Quinn arches an eyebrow at me. "Are you going to gawk at me all night?"
"Probably," I confess.
She breaks into a grin. "Then I chose well."
I offer to sit in the backseat of Quinn's car, and soon we're off to the bar. Quinn's anxious to get there so that Colt can get us in. Evidently, Colt is known for ditching the gang when he grows bored. After we find a parking space a block from the bar, Quinn leads us down the sidewalk. I'm perfectly aware that our outfits betray just how different we are, and yet we all seem to get along so well. We pass by a few men on their way to a bar or their car, and they show interest in us but we continue walking.
The bar looks small on the outside, and there isn't a line waiting—just a bouncer standing in the doorway looking bored. Quinn takes her cell phone from her purse and calls Colt. A second later, he appears in the doorway, and the bouncer ushers us inside.
I look around with interest as loud music greets us. This is certainly not a big bar. The setup is simple with a bar on one end of the room, and a small dance floor on the other with booths lining the walls. It's just busy enough to be saved from being a letdown. I’m overdressed in this atmosphere, but it's too late now. Harper had mentioned at one point that Quinn wanted to go to LA tonight, but nobody wanted to mess with the drive.
Colt leads us to a large booth, and the guys make room for us. Introductions are made since I hadn’t met Beck at the cookout, and then Colt tells us he's buying a round of shots and will be back. The music is currently too loud for conversation, and my eyes can't help but single out Channing.
He's sitting across from me, and even in the flashing lights, I can see that his eyes are on me. When he notices that I'm looking his way, his eyes lock on mine. An instant awareness has my body going on alert, and I reluctantly turn my attention to the dance floor and calm myself. Instead of focusing on our attraction, I concentrate on the reason I'm here tonight. I'm already itching to get out there and dance. I'm finding that being on my own for the first time in my life is exhilarating. I want to do all the things that I couldn't do back in Philly. There's no one here to make me feel embarrassed or foolish for wanting the things that I want.
Colt comes back to our booth with a tray full of shots, and we all immediately reach for them. I knock mine back, and though the alcohol stings the back of my throat, I relish the sensation. This outing tonight is something I've never experienced before, and I want to savor every minute of it. I'd always envied people that could go out with their friends and just have a good time. I never had a group of friends or a reason to just have fun. There was always a reason for all that I did. It was all pre-planned with a goal in mind.
Quinn's head shoots up when a song begins to play, and she stands up, shoving Sebastian's shoulder. "This is my song. Let me out."
He grins at her and sits back in the booth, making it clear that he's not budging. "And if I don't?"
She shrugs and begins crawling over him. She must knee him in the groin, because he winces with a grunt and quickly grabs her around the waist, depositing her outside of the booth. She straightens and gives him a sweet smile.
"I'm with you," I tell her over the music, rising to my feet. Thankfully, Harper is on the outside, and both of us take off after Quinn.
The dance floor is about half full, so there's plenty of room for us. This is what I came for, and I let the music take me over. I'm barely aware of Quinn and Harper.
"Damn, woman! You've got moves!" Quinn says to me, drawing my attention to her.
She looks good herself. Harper's not bad either, but she’s more reserved with her dancing than we are. "You guys will have to drag me out of here later,” I tell them.
We continue dancing to the song that Quinn loves, and as that song fades into the next, and so on, we stay on the dance floor. When I happen to look up, I notice Sebastian sauntering out onto the floor, a beer in hand. My eyes shift to the booth, and the rest of the guys are staying put.
At first, I think Sebastian’s going to approach Quinn and Harper, but instead, he heads my way. His eyes wander over me, and he gives me a slow, sexy grin that has my stomach muscles tightening in response. "You need a partner, luv."
"Think you can keep up?" I tease.
His eyes flicker down my body once more. "I'm damn well going to try."
The dance floor is where I’m most comfortable, and since I’m feeling playful, I decide to test Sebastian. I move closer to him, wanting to see what he'll do. He uses his free hand to pull me close, but his rhythm is out of sync with mine. He
's not a dancer, but he's certainly trying. I move around him, playfully teasing him with my body while I touch his chest every so often. He might not dance well, but he doesn't need to in order for me to move my body alongside his. He now has the same look in his eye that the men at the club get. He's enjoying every second of my attention.
Remington appears out of nowhere, interrupting us. "You're just slowing her down," he says to Sebastian—who salutes Remington with his beer before wandering off. And just like that, I have a new partner.
I arch an eyebrow as if saying, ‘Show me what you've got.’
Remington's eyes flash with the accepted challenge, and he draws me close to him, moving his body against mine. He can move, but it's mostly just grinding. I follow his lead, and our eyes connect. There's an attraction stirring between us, and I acknowledge it. He's a very attractive man, and the way he moves his body has me thinking of sex. I turn my back to him, and his hands promptly settle on my waist, his breath and whiskers brushing the side of my neck as we move our bodies.
This night has turned out to be quite interesting. It had never occurred to me that any of the guys would come out onto the dance floor. I'd originally planned to dance myself into a self-induced exhaustion before dropping into my bed later with a smile on my face. Dancing is something that somehow soothes my soul. I don't know why, and if I said it out loud, it would sound stupid. However, I'm finding that the more ways I find to please myself, the happier I am.
Remington turns me around so that I’m facing him, and his eyes lock on mine. He's really close now, his chest and hips brushing mine with each move. "You and me later?"
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