I cover her mouth before she says anything else that’ll burn my ears right off my head. “Please God, don’t make any more references to the possibility that my daughter will be having sex. I don’t think I can take it.”
“Now it’s your turn to be real, Mr. Callahan.” She presses her hands against my chest, her voice lowering to a seductive murmur. “We should go to our room.”
I frown, confused by her suggestion. “Why? Where are the kids?”
“Well, we know Autumn’s outside with Ash. Jake’s probably already asleep. He likes to nap on Saturdays after a game. Ava went to a friend’s house right before you got here, and so did Beck,” she explains.
Now I’m smiling. “Really?”
Fable smiles in return. “Really.”
“Well, let’s go have some alone time then,” I say, chasing after Fable as she heads for our bedroom, reaching out to give her perfect ass a slap. She laughs, glancing over her shoulder to smile at me, and I know I’m the luckiest man in the world.
Can’t shake the worry that hangs over me about the Ash situation, though. We’ll get that figured out eventually.
Together.
Twenty-Eight
Autumn
“What if my parents can see us sitting like this?” My protest is half-hearted at best. I haven’t seen Ash in what feels like forever, but really was only about a day, and I love how he immediately pulled me into his arms.
I’m snuggled up so close to him. We’re sitting out by the pool on one of the oversized lounge chairs, me between his spread legs, my back leaning against his chest. He’s warm, I can feel his heart beating, and his arms are strong and firm as they wrap around me.
I don’t want him to ever let me go.
“Who cares if they can see us? We have to tell them what’s going on between us eventually.” Ash kisses my temple, his mouth lingering, and I shiver from the touch of his damp lips on my skin. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” My heart fills so much, it’s like it’s going to crack open and spill my overwhelming emotions all over the place. It feels so good to have him admit something like that first.
Of course, he’s always been better revealing his feelings than me. I used to think he was lying all the time, trying to trick me to get in my pants or whatever, and that’s why I held back.
Now I know better.
“My mom is a complete bitch. I hate her.” His voice is strangely flat, emotionless, and I pull away from him so I can stare up at his face. His expression is equally lacking emotion.
“What happened? What did she say?”
“She tried to tell me the fight between Don and me was all my fault. Can you believe that?” Ash shakes his head, his jaw going tight. “That’s what she wants to believe, even though she witnessed the entire damn thing and knows the truth, deep down.”
“She was there?” I’m in shock. I don’t know many details about what happened. I’ve heard a lot of rumors, and Ash has given me bits and pieces, as well as my dad, but that’s about it.
“Yeah, she’ll deny it to her last breath, but she totally egged Don on. Told him to, and I quote, ‘beat the shit out of him’. She’ll win Mom of the Year for that one, I’m sure,” Ash says sarcastically.
His words make my heart heavy. “I had no idea.”
“I didn’t want tell you.” He squirms a little, and I can tell he’s uncomfortable with his confession. I wish I could make him feel better. “It sucks, when you realize just how awful your mom is. I’ve known it for a long time. I just didn’t want to face it. I’d blame it on the alcohol, or the pills she’s always popping, but no. She really is an awful person who doesn’t give a shit about me.”
“She said she wanted you to come back and live with her,” I point out, because I don’t want to believe Ash’s mother doesn’t really love him. That has to be one of the worst feelings in the world, when your parents don’t love you. I can’t imagine.
“She can’t stand the fact that I don’t want to be with her anymore, though I’ve been giving her signs for years. I was rarely home, always trying to stay at a friend’s house or whatever.” It’s the whatever that makes me uncomfortable. Staying with a girl, maybe? I can’t hold his past against him, but it’s difficult. I don’t like hearing about the other girls.
“When I told her no, I wasn’t coming home with her, she started cursing me out, though never loud enough for your dad or brother to hear.” Ash sighs, and I hear so much pain in that one sound. “Then she called me a fucking piece of shit, told me I’d never amount to anything, and that I’d be nothing but a drain on whoever I was staying with. She thinks I’m at a friend’s house, like usual.”
“Well, you sort of are.” I smile at him, wishing I could lighten the mood.
“True.” He chuckles, his arms tightening around me. “She’s so stupid. She had no clue that a Super Bowl-winning NFL player was sitting in the restaurant three tables over.”
She might be awful, but I don’t like hearing Ash insult his mother. “I guess she’s not into football.”
“Nope. She never has been. That was a thing between me and my dad.” He pauses, his gaze growing distant. “Everyone at the restaurant left your dad alone, and I thought that was pretty cool. I think he appreciates it when that happens.”
“We’ve lived here long enough that when he goes to a local restaurant, no one’s fazed by him anymore. When we first moved to the area, everyone would approach him no matter where we were. They were always asking for his autograph, wanting to take photos with him. Beck didn’t get it. He wanted to know what was so special about Daddy.” I laugh, running my fingers up and down Ash’s arm, which is draped over me. “Now when people approach my dad, they usually want to talk about the high school football team.”
I hear the rumble of a laugh in Ash’s chest. “That’s funny.”
“I know.”
We grow quiet for a while, and he plays with my hair while I stroke his arm. It’s warm outside, with a breeze that cools us off every couple of minutes, and I think I can sit out here forever if he’d let me.
“Did the argument really start because of a pack of cigarettes?” I ask a few minutes later, my voice soft.
Ash sighs, and it’s a ragged sound. “As stupid as that sounds…yes. That’s exactly how it started.”
Realization dawns and I sit up in a flash, turning so I’m facing him. “I haven’t seen you smoke once since you’ve been here.”
“Gave it up.” He shrugs one shoulder. “When you get the shit beat out of you for a couple of cigarettes, you realize they aren’t worth the risk.”
Huh. Maybe that’s why he’s been so touchy.
A sympathetic sound leaves me and I reach out to cradle his cheeks in my hands. His stubble prickles against my palms, and I study his face, examining his wounds. The swelling in his lips has gone down and they look normal, which is good because we’ve been kissing each other a lot. The cut above his eye doesn’t look as angry as it did, the redness faded. The bruises have faded too, especially his black eye, though it’s still visible, and gives him a dangerous air.