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43
River
When Ash marchedup to that woman, I wasn’t sure what he was doing at first. He schmoozed and flirted the way he seems to do as easily as breathing. But then his words turned vicious, and I realized that was his plan all along. The woman looked shocked and appalled, and anger flashes through me, hot and impossible to ignore.
Keeping my grip on Ash, I drag him away, pissed as fuck.
I pull him out of the ballroom to the lobby of the hotel, and then into a little one person bathroom tucked into a short hallway. Of course a venue like this has single bathrooms, and of course it’s just as fancy as the rest of the place, with the toilet sectioned off behind a little wall, and a chair and table in the corner like someone would sit down and have a little break in the middle of a fancy function.
Actually, maybe that’s not a bad idea.
I shut and lock the door behind us and round on Ash, eyes blazing with my anger.
“What the fuck was that?” I demand.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what the fuck I mean, Ash. What you said to that woman. You had no right.”
He folds his arms and looks at me straight on. “Yeah, I did. People shouldn’t talk about you that way. It’s not right.”
“Peoplealwayshave shit to say. Who gives a fuck? She’s just some random bitch I’ll probably never see again. It’s not your job to stop people from talking shit about me. I don’t need you or any of the other guys protecting me. I can look out for myself. I’ve been doing it for most of my fucking life.”
Ash’s jaw clenches, his eyes sparking like fire. “Maybe it’s not about protecting you. Did you think of that? Maybe it’s about recognizing that you’re worth more than that cunt out there saw in you. Maybe that’s important.”
“Why?” I snap. “Why the fuck would I care? Why do you?”
“I just do!” he argues back, taking a step forward. “These people think they’re better than everyone. They look down on anyone who doesn’t fit into their little mold, and at the same time, they won’t hesitate to use them. It’s disgusting, and I didn’t want her to think she could get away with talking about you like that.”
I make a frustrated noise, hands clenched into fists at my side. “So you humiliated her out there. What did that achieve? You think she’s going to think twice before she makes another shitty comment about someone else? You think that’s how this works?”
“No,” he mutters, glancing away.
“Then what was the fucking point, Ash?”
“I already told you the point,” he retorts. “She just needed to know.”
Tension builds between us, escalating as we argue. We’re not full-on shouting, but our voices echo in the bathroom, and anyone close enough to the door could probably hear us if they tried.
I take a step closer to him, the distance between us disappearing as we keep moving toward each other.
“Why do you care?” I ask him again. “If you think I’m worth so much, then why, out of all your friends, are you the only one who didn’t fuck me while I was living with you?”
Ash looks startled by that question, so I keep pressing, wanting answers.
“I know Priest can’t for whatever reason, but I know your reputation. I’ve heard the others talking, and I’ve seen it with my own damn eyes. My first couple of days at the house, you had women coming and going from your room, and I walked in on you getting your dick sucked in the damn living room. You’ll fuck anything. So why not me?”
I’m breathing harder when I finish my little rant, and now this is about more than just him going after that stuck-up bitch. The question has been weighing on me since the first time he rejected me, and I want to hear the answer.
He sighs but doesn’t look away. There’s something firm in his gaze, visible even with the light reflecting off his glasses the way it is. He stands there, all model pretty and dressed to the nines, and I can’t decide if I want to hit him or kiss him.
“I’ve been fucking anything and everything since I was goddamn teenager,” he says, and it comes out bitter and with an edge. “I don’t want to fuck you like you’re one of hundreds. You’re worth more than that. I want…” He trails off, then draws in a breath. “I want more.”
I just about manage to keep myself from jerking back in surprise when he says that. The thing is, I can tell he means it. It’s not just some line he’s feeding me to get me to spread my legs for him. Hell, I’ve been trying to do that already, so there’s no point.
He has to mean it. The conviction of it is in his eyes, and I forget to breathe for just a moment.
It scares the fuck out of me to hear that.
