This isn’t the Ashton who leans against my kitchen counter, quiet and thoughtful, talking about cider recipes and the way the orchard looks at dawn. This isn’t the Ashton who sleeps curled up next to me, arm slung around my waist like he’s afraid I might disappear.
This version is all hard lines and sharp corners.
I don’t know which one is real.
Or maybe they both are.
The thought settles heavy in my chest as the first firework screams into the sky and bursts into a bloom of blue light. Everyone cheers as color spills outward, shimmering over the dark water. I take a long pull from my beer and tip my head back, watching the sky fracture into bursts of red and silver. The booms crack through the air, echoing across the rippling lake.
It’s beautiful—and romantic.
An ache pulses beneath my ribs. I want to cross the boat and drop into Ashton’s lap. I want to wrap my arms around his broad shoulders and kiss him beneath the fireworks. I want everyone to see how much I adore this sensitive, beautiful man.
But I can’t.
So I sit where I am, sipping my beer and swallowing the bitterness that comes with it.
Across from me, Luke pulls the brunette he brought into an easy kiss, careless and unbothered. Ethan and Olivia are curled up together too—Ashton mentioned they fool around when she’s home from college in the summers. Nobody bats an eye at them.
Another firework erupts overhead, gold flecks cascading down the black canvas sky. The reflection trembles across the lake, fractured and dazzling. I catch myself staring at Ashton again, at the way the light flashes in his bright eyes.
My fingers dig into my thighs, catching in the torn threads of my jeans. Being this close to him and not being able to touch him is a special kind of torture.
He’s only a few feet away, but the distance might as well be miles.
By the time we dock at the marina, the air has turned sharp enough to bite. Goose bumps pebble my bare arms as the boat bumps gently against the slip. Ashton moves with easy confidence, looping the rope and knotting it off in a few swift motions. Overhead, the sky is a black scatter of stars, a thin haze of firework smoke still drifting across the water.
I step forward to help Olivia and Chloe onto the dock, offering my hand. They take it with grateful smiles and soft thank-yous, their palms cool against mine. All things considered, I think I made good impressions on Ashton’s siblings and friends. I laughed at the right moments. I didn’t drink too much. I kept my mouth shut when I needed to.
Everyone seemed charmed.
Well, almost everyone.
Phoebe probably noticed the way I kept glaring at her.
It’s stupid and petty. I know that. But I couldn’t seem to stop the ugly heat that rose in my chest when she curled into Ashton’s side, when they tilted their heads together to watch the fireworks burst over the lake. Meanwhile, I sat there holding on to my beer like it was my date, spending the whole night pressing it to my lips.
It’s not fair.
The dock sways faintly beneath our steps as we make our way toward the marina parking lot, metal groaning under our weight. The streetlamps are dim and yellow, casting long shadows across the asphalt. One by one, we peel off and say our goodbyes, splitting toward our separate cars.
I keep a healthy distance between us as Ashton and I pace toward his truck. I shove my hands in my pockets, the night suddenly feeling much colder than it did out on the water.
He unlocks the doors with a sharpclick. We climb in without looking at each other, the cab filling with the smell of lake water and gasoline. The doors shut with heavy thuds, sealing us into a small, suffocating quiet.
Ashton grips the steering wheel and stares straight ahead. His jaw is tight enough to crack a tooth.
He twists the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life.
I watch him instead of buckling my seat belt. “What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t answer at first. His fingers flex against the wheel. Then he closes his eyes and exhales, long and weary, like he’s been holding it in for hours.
“You were being an asshole to Phoebe all night.”
Guilt spreads through my bones, slow and sick. “Ash…”
He finally looks at me, and there’s frustration there—but worse, there’s hurt. “It was hard enough trying to keep my cool. Trying to blend my secret new boyfriend into my social life without anyone realizing he’s my boyfriend.” His mouth twists. “I didn’t need you sneering at my best friend every time she touched me.”
