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CHAPTER TWENTY
Ashlyn
My hips locked up, my fingers clenched, and I froze. I wasn’t sure why I felt that freezing was my best option in the situation, like some kind of giant chameleon, but Liam must’ve been on a similar wavelength, as he too froze.
Slowly, together, we turned our heads.
Turned out we had an audience.
Three people stood at the mouth of the aisle, their carts filled with groceries, their mouths open and staring. In front, leading the charge, was a man in a bright-green apron, the name of the grocery embroidered across the center. He cleared his throat again, and I dropped my arms, bumping awkwardly into the shelves behind me, which had somehow remained intact as Liam had wrecked my world with that kiss.
Of course now, a single chicken soup fell off its assigned shelf and plopped to the floor, where it rolled a few feet away. Every one of us watched it.
Eyes fluttering, the man wearing the apron slowly lifted his walkie-talkie and pressed the talk button. I flinched, knowing exactly what was coming. Beside me, Liam stiffened, but his face read only confusion.
The loudspeaker above us suddenly called out, a direct line to our new audience member’s voice. “Clean up on aisle three. Clean up on aisle three.”
I snorted, slapping a hand over my mouth to stop the hysterical laughter that threatened there. Every time I got close to this man, disaster ensued, but at least this one would keep Emma and Cici in stitches for days.
Liam swooped down to grab the soup, popping it back on its shelf amongst its siblings before casually gripping the handles of our cart once more. He looked to me, pointedly ignoring the crowd. “Shall we?”
I threaded my hand through his on the handles. “We shall.”
As soon as we hit the main aisle, he launched into a run, leaving me in the metaphorical dust as he booked it to the checkout stand.
***
Liam
She’d cooked for me.
I couldn’t remember the last time anybody made me anything, other than Sam, who occasionally warmed up a cup of instant ramen for me if she was around at mealtime, and I couldn't exactly compare those two things. One was a sodium bath for rice noodles. This was…nice. I’d followed her exact directions, chopping a combination of vegetables we’d picked up from the grocery store together. And in a matter of minutes, she’d seasoned, tossed, cooked, and plated me a simple but delicious meal.
And we’d managed to do the entire dinner without either screaming at each other or tearing each other’s clothes off. I wasn’t sure which was more impressive, really.
She chattered on during our dinner, telling me a story about her best friend Emma, who had moved to LA a few years ago. But I couldn’t stop watching her mouth. And eating her food. And just soaking in the feeling of what it meant to just be with someone.
For once I wasn’t a CEO.
She didn’t give two shits about who my parents were.
What the tabloids had called me.
Or even that I was weeks away from securing a job position that would set me up for life. Barring any further fuck-ups on my part.
She just scolded me for my bad chopping skills and fed me chicken and filled up our glasses with cheap powdered lemonade and acted like it was the most normal thing in the world to be here together on a Sunday night.
And maybe it was.
Because for the first time in a long time, I felt grounded. It was a relief tobewith someone who simply accepted you as you were. As wonderful as my sister was, she was programmed to love me. Ashlyn was choosing to spend her time with me. And that set warmth across my chest in a way that I wasn’t used to dealing with.
I wanted to tell her more, to tell her about everything I’d done and why. But on the same page, I realized now that I had more to lose, much more.
I almost wished she’d found out on her own.
But luck didn’t favor me. It never had. My father would make damn sure of it. I had a whole group of voicemails I’d left on unread from him. He’d ranted and raved about how there was no future for me at Leden unless I putfamilyfirst. In another, he’d threatened to let it slip to the board that Grove Communications was being favored because of our relationship. That one pissed me off the most. His meaning was clear.
I would tell her. After dinner. Maybe after one last kiss. Because there’d be no way she’d ever let me touch her again after she found out what had made me into the hot mess playboy that I was today. No one did. But at least then the power would be taken from him.
