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Shelby leads the way through a short hallway that passes a laundry room and leads into the master bedroom. “Okay then, let’s talk about Lincoln. He totally likes you.”
“Seriously, Shell? What did I just say?”
She steps into an unfinished space that’s probably her parent’s future bathroom. “I did change the subject! I went from one guy to another. So, spill it—Lincoln is hot, right?”
I shrug and step into the closet. This room is fully covered in drywall and there are a few power tools on the floor. “He’s cute,” I say, just to appease her. “Maybe a little too tall.”
She turns and leans against the back of the closet, crossing her arms over her chest. The sunlight doesn’t reach in here very well, so she just looks like a blurry ghost, but I’m pretty sure she’s glaring at me. “Okay, so don’t hate me or anything,” she says, walking forward and taking the cupcake box from me. “And maybe I’m crazy for thinking this because I am, above all else, my brother’s biggest supporter, but maybe . . .” She retrieves my half-eaten cupcake and takes a bite. “Maybe you should go on one date with Lincoln. Just for fun. You don’t have to fall in love with him—just go out and have fun for the first time in forever.”
“Since February.” I look down. “It’s only been three months. I don’t think I’m ready.”
She frowns. “I get that. I just want you to be happy, my precious best friend.” With that, she runs a hand down my cheek in this sarcastic but hilarious way, and I take my cupcake out of her hand and press it against her face. Only a little bit of icing gets on
her cheek and she swipes it off and licks it. “You should at least try to move on,” she says, her expression turning serious now. “Go on one date and see what happens. If it sucks, then at least you tried.”
I give her a noncommittal shake of my head. “Fine,” I say, dragging out the word. “I’ll go on one date with him.”
“I think it’ll be good for you to get out of the house.” Shelby’s phone goes off and she reaches to her back pocket to silence it. “If anything, maybe it’ll make Ash jealous and then he’ll finally come to his senses and ya’ll will get back together.”
“Now that’s the first good idea you’ve had all day,” I say. I turn around and walk out of the closet, back into the master bedroom whose wall of windows is letting in the setting sun. Footsteps sound across the foundation. A scream catches in my throat as I realize we are not alone in this house—a pair of navy blue eyes stare at me, just as startled as I am.
I am frozen on the concrete. Ash regains his senses before I do. He was always the one with his head on his shoulders while I was falling apart. His hand lifts in a little wave. “Hey.”
Chapter 8
I can’t find it in me to say anything. All of the words I might come up with just don’t feel adequate. Hello? Hi? No, those won’t do. Ash wears a black T-shirt with a dark blue Yamaha logo across the chest. I stare at that instead of meeting his eyes again. I’m not stupid enough to catch his gaze when I’m in a state like this.
Why is he so gorgeous?
And why do I fall apart when I’m in the same room as him?
Probably only a few seconds have passed, but a chill runs through my veins and my throat is dry and time seems to stretch on forever. Shelby barrels past me, knocking into my shoulder in her rush to get to her brother.
“You’re home early!” she says, throwing her arms around him.
“Yeah, thought I’d surprise you. When you weren’t in the house I figured you’d be here.”
“Holy muscles!” she says, still holding on to her brother. “What happened to you?” She takes a step back to survey Ash’s amazing rock-hard supercross body and, like a devoted sister, follows it up with a, “You’re like a weird statue now.”
He chuckles and his eyes lift to meet mine while they hug. I force my lips to twist upwards in a kind gesture that—if all goes according to plan—will look like I’m a normal person giving him a normal smile that isn’t laced with two dozen heartbroken emotions.
“What have you been up to, Hana?” Ash asks as soon as Shelby releases him. He scratches his elbow and pretends to look around the room, a quirk I remember from back when we were soulmates. “The house looks good.”
“Nothing,” I say, followed by, “Yeah it does.”
His naturally dark skin is three shades tanner, which I guess will happen to a guy who mostly lives in California when he’s not home. I don’t need to hug him to know that he’s gained a lot of muscle since I’ve last seen him. I remember him talking about how all there was to do between races was hit up bars and workout. I guess he’s been doing the latter.
I wonder if the blue clay bead I made him in sculpting glass is still hanging on to that one dread behind his left ear. I let myself wonder, but I refuse to look for it. I don’t want to know.
“You want to come to dinner with us?” Shelby says, grabbing Ash’s arm. “We were just about to go out for pizza.”
No we weren’t. In fact, we are completely full on cupcakes. I give her a look, which she ignores as she tugs on his arm. “You’re hungry, right? Let’s go.”
“Yeah, I’m always hungry,” Ash says in that voice of his—the one that melts hearts and rips open old wounds. It’s lethal, but I still want to hear more. “I should go shower really quick though. I smell like airplane.”
I think he smells amazing, but I am not allowed to think that anymore.
“Okay, but hurry,” Shelby says, grabbing him and shoving him toward the unfinished doorframe that leads back out into the living room. My hands long to touch him again. My cheeks even burn as they remember what it felt like to rest my head against his chest. But I am just an ex-girlfriend now. I don’t get to touch. I don’t get to hug or comment on his muscles.
