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The internal pep talk does nothing to assuage my concerns. Is he okay or was he playing tough? How much of the blood belonged to him?
“These guys came up to him speaking in whatever language they were speaking. Eastern European or something. Whatever it was, Timofey knew it. I have no clue at all what they were saying, but it sounded tense,” Ashley says. “Next thing I know, Timofey shoves me out of the way and fists start flying.”
“But how did he find you? How did he get inside?” I ask. I need a million more details. “Was he fighting the people holding you hostage?”
“I wasn’t beingheld hostage.” Ashley rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. I told you on the phone I was fine.”
I gape at her. “No, you didn’t. You told me, and I quote, ‘Just leave me here. It’s not like you care what happens to me anyway.’”
Ashley waves me away and leans back against the wall. “I was mad at you. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Well, I thought you meant something by it,because that’s what you said. I made a deal with Timofey so he would go pick you up. I was scared for your safety, Ash. I thought you were in trouble.”
“What deal?” Ashley asks saucily. “Was it dirty?”
My cheeks warm, and I hope to God I’m not blushing. I didn’t barter sex or anything, but it was close enough.
Seducing Timofey, even for pretend, felt way too close to the real thing. I’m not sure how I’m going to pull a routine like that off for hours on end for the wedding, but I better figure it out.
“No, it wasn’t dirty!” I snap. “But I went out of my way to help you. Timofey did, too. He got in a fight! You were reckless and it put him in danger.”
“He wasn’t in danger, believe me. Your man can fight. I mean, if he wasn’t clearly in love with you, I would be asking permission to jump his bones.”
My brain wrinkles while I try to figure out which part of her sentence to respond to first.
Fighting ten men is inherently dangerous. Timofey was absolutely in danger.
He’s not my man. Don’t call him that.
And Ashley doesn’t need my permission to “jump his bones,” even though the thought of it makes me want to drop her ass right back in that crack house.
But those all feel less important to mention than the utterly ridiculous bit she wedged in the midst of all of it.
“Timofey is not in love with me,” I say clearly. “Like, not at all. In any way. At all.”
“Well, he sure spent a lot of time talking about you for a man who isn’t in love.”
I chew on my cheek but say nothing.
Ashley sees right through it. “You’re dying to know what he said,” she laughs. “I can tell!”
“It doesn’t matter what he said. Nothing will change the fact that—”
“He bitched about you the entire way home,” Ashley drawls.
“He complained about me?” It figures. I’m not sure why I expected anything different.
“Nonstop,” she says. “But in a flirty kind of way. Boys are always mean to girls they like.”
“In the schoolyard, maybe.”
Ashley gives me a look. “All love is a schoolyard, Pipes. He even complained that you’re always sacrificing yourself to save me. Isn’t that ridiculous?”
I bite my cheek even harder. Telling Ashley the truth wouldn’t do any good right now. Especially since I can’t tell if her boundless energy is because she’s high or because of adrenaline.
“He said the only reason he came to get me is so you wouldn’t get hurt trying to do it yourself. It was so sweet!” She clutches her hands to her chest. “I wish I had a man who loved me like that.”
“He doesn’t love me!” I snap. Something about hearing the impossible repeated over and over again makes me wish it was true.
