AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yeah. Even though I don’t have an early start, I probably shouldn’t have any more drinks.” She shoots me another flirty glance. “Or any more of those sex looks you’re giving me either.”
I laugh, but it’s a weak one. “Beer goggles.”
“Now that you say it, you’re decent tonight.” She giggles and hiccups. “Shit. Yeah. I don’t need any more. And I have to shut up my chickens, so I should probably jet.”
And just like that, somehow, we’re back to something like normal.
We catch a cab to hers so I can see her through her front door, and it’s not even that late, but she falls asleep on my shoulder. Her hair smells like mangos and sawdust, and I think it must be the best smell in the entire world. I practically hyperventilate breathing it in. Finally, we pull up to the front of Bird’s Eye which sensibly has a light on the porch. I tell the cab to wait while I escort her up the stairs. Jolie holds my arm, but I don’t think she needs it. Still, it just kind of feels right.
She unlocks the door and reaches inside to flick on a light. Her kitchen appears through a window. “Thanks for going out tonight. It was nice.” She seems a bit more sober now.
“Nice? Orfine?” I tease.
She slaps my chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps under my thin t-shirt.
“All right.” I take a step back, but it’s hard to peel away from her. “Cab’s waiting. Maybe see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, definitely. Stop by. I could use an assistant. It’s barrels tomorrow.”
I rub my hands together. “Count me in, then.”
I make my way down the stairs back to the cab.
“Ashton?”
I turn. “Yeah?”
“Just to make it clear. You had your chance.”
I throw my head back and tense my muscles not to go into a full-on grin. “Understood. Night, Joey.”
“Night, Pup.”
Chapter Ten
I wokeup realizing maybe now that I’m thirty-two I can’t shoot two double shots and feel totally normal. Especially after tossing and turning all night, thinking for the first time in my life, Ashton Dane flirted back. I think. I’m pretty sure…
Falling back into old patterns was something I told myself to avoid, but then… doesn’t a person deserve to feel like themselves? Nothing really makes me feel more me than pretending I’m in a will-they, won’t-they situationship with my brother’s best friend. It’s sort of the trope of my childhood, and avoiding adulting right now is very tempting. And last night, just like every time Ashton and I played it out, I’m not even mad about it. It’s like watching your favorite Christmas rom-com, knowing the ending and still feeling satisfied.
Only that six-five hunk of man could turn me down and make his rejection feel like a comfort blanket. I had fun last night. And I woke up wanting to do it all over again.
But am I still pretending? The fact that I didn’t sleep a wink suggests I’m not. Also, in the delirium of the night, I thought about a million and one mischievous things from what it would actually be like to bang him, to what it would be like to turn him down if he acted on that glint in his eye.
I didn’t get the obsession out of my system, and when I arrived at Moon Ridge Ranch the next afternoon, if five minutes went by without peeking behind me to see if Ashton was anywhere around, I was lucky. When Monica Dane comes to help me at three to set up for the children’s barrel racing class, she calls me out.
“You got a problem with your neck, sweetheart?” she asks.
She must know. My childhood crush was no secret, and my identity as his admirer carries into adulthood. Every Scorpions game I’ve been to, when Ashton scored, Monica looked at me and hugged me like I’m proud of my man. But he’s not my man. And the fact he didn’t show up here today proves it.
“Yeah, I have a crick,” I say as I shove a barrel on its side to wheel out into the arena for tonight’s session. She’ll either feel sorry for me or think I’m full of shit.
Because it’s Monica we’re talking about, it’s the latter. “Ashton had to go to physical therapy today. Then he met with his agent and accountant.” She heaves the barrelforward. “He was smart with his money on some level, but I still can’t believe that little hussy got more than half of it.”
I help Monica put another barrel on its side so we can roll them out together. “Hussy? That’s a specific word.”
“I’ve said too much and yet, not enough. Ashton tells me it’s his business, but I hate that the media is portraying a situation that in reality is very much the opposite.”
I get my barrel to its spot and pull it back upright. “Chloe cheated on Ashton?”
