I can’t help but laugh at the disgusted look on Harley’s face.
“They are always at it. It’s insane.”
“Aw, Har Har, you jealous?”
“Damn fucking right, I am. I want someone to look at me like he does Poppy. It’s sickening.”
“I think it’s cute.”
“Yeah, well... ugh.” She stomps her foot like a toddler about to have a tantrum. “I just want a nice guy who’s going to treat me right,” she says, stepping into the red dress.
“Then you probably need to look a little farther than the team. They’re a bunch of dogs.”
“I know. It’s just easy when they’re so willing.”
I don’t need to say the words for Harley to know I agree, we’re both well aware of my actions the past few months.
“Sit, let me do your makeup,” she demands, pulling the chair out that sits at her vanity unit.
“Have at it.” I lower my ass to the seat, readjusting my dress once more.
She works in silence for a few minutes, adding primer, concealer, and then foundation to my skin before she pauses and looks at me.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just... I know I’m giving you shit about Ash, but I get it, you know.” She rests her ass back on the unit and lowers her eyes. “I watched Poppy hate on Zayn for years and look at them now. He affects you, like, really affects you. I’d hate to see you miss an opportunity because you’re too stubborn to see past it.”
“He affects me because I hate him, Har. He’s certainly not my soul mate or any of that shit.”
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
“I am.” I pause before saying something I fear I might really regret. “If you want him, he’s fair game.”
“Ruby,” she sighs, sympathy passing across her face. “He’s hot, but I wouldn’t... I couldn’t.”
“I kissed Zayn. I get it.”
“I was just joking about that last night. It’s totally cool.” She smiles at me and I can’t help but return it. I also can’t help the relief that flows through me that she doesn’t want to go after him.
It’s over an hour later before Harley has finished making up both our faces and done our hair, and as I stare at myself in her full-length mirror, I can’t deny that she’s not done an astounding job. Poppy appeared not long after we heard her giggling with pink cheeks and swollen lips, much to Harley’s delight, and she got ready with us, helping us drink our way through the bottle of vodka Harley had stashed ready for tonight.
“If you’re not ready, I’m going without you,” Zayn calls through the door not long later.
“Keep your pants on, we’re ready,” Harley calls back before Zayn takes that as an invitation and lets himself into her room.
His eyes zero in on Poppy who’s wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a loose, low-cut tank. I swear his eyes nearly pop out of his head.
“We’ve already listened to you two going at it tonight, chill out for a few hours, would ya?” Harley mutters.
“Ignore her, she’s jealous,” I tell Zayn. “We ready then?”
“Rubes, you look hot.” His eyes run the length of me and back up again.
“Um...” Poppy says, stepping into his side and forcing his eyes to her. He leans into her ear and whispers something that makes her sag into his hold and curl his shirt in her fist.
Rolling my eyes at them, I turn to Harley in time to see her fake gag before she storms past the happy couple.
“Come on, or I’m taking your car,” she calls to Zayn who immediately releases Poppy and marches after her.
“How do you put up with living with those two?” I ask Poppy as we follow the bickering siblings out of the house.
“Being here comes with its advantages too.”
“The orgasms, right.”
“That wasn’t actually what I was going to say but yeah, they sure help.”
I’m still laughing at her as we join Zayn and Harley in his car.
“Are you two going to behave tonight?” he asks, looking at the two of us in the rearview mirror. “I really don’t want to have to carry any of you out tonight.”
“We’ll do our best, right Rubes?” she says, elbowing me.
“Yeah,” I mutter, staring out the window at the passing scenery. The vodka might already be having an effect, but it’s nowhere near enough to block out the person I need it to.
I still don’t know if he came home. I can only assume that he’s fine or I’d have heard something.
In only minutes we’re pulling up outside Ethan’s house. It might still be early, but there are already cars everywhere and kids making their way inside, ready to start the night.
Excitement tingles in my belly. I am so ready to join them after the week I’ve had.
7
Ashton
I wake up freezing my fucking ass off. This might be the warmer end of the country but spending the night passed out on a beach in January still isn’t the best idea.
Every part of my body aches as I force myself to sit up, my eyes blinking against the early morning sun that crept above the horizon not so long ago.
I stare out at the calm ocean beyond.
I’m sure this should be a happy place. A place for people to think, to calm down, to get a little perspective. But while the alcohol numbed me for a few hours last night, the reality is now rushing back in faster than I’d like it to.
I reach into my pocket in the hope I’ve got something to take the edge off it. But I find nothing besides my lighter. I have no idea if I smoked my stash last night or if I even brought it with me. I can only hope it’s still sitting in my room waiting for me. But I don’t want to get my hopes up, I learned the hard way a long time ago that hopes are useless. They build you up thinking that something good might happen and then they drop you when you least expect it.
A little like last night. I’d hoped Dad might lay off me for a bit. But no, instead, Mom is barely cold and he’s already forcing me to think about my future as if I’ve already forgotten that I had a life outside of Rosewood only days ago. It’s like he expects me to just forget all about everything in Seattle, the people that were in it—not that there were many.
I drag my knees up to my chest and drop my head onto my forearm, willing it to stop spinning.
I know I need to go back there. I know that I don’t have much of a choice. But I really don’t want to look at his face again.
He was supposed to love her once upon a time, how can he just move on so quickly, care so little that she’s gone?
Why doesn’t he hate me? After all, I’m the one to blame here.
It would be easier if he were shouting at me, but he’s just... not. He’s just going about his life once more like she was never a part of it.
I guess she hasn’t been for a few years, but she was a huge part of mine, why can’t he just let me have this time to do what I need to do? I really don’t give a shit about tomorrow, next week, next month right now. My head is still firmly in last week and I have no idea when I’m going to be able to drag it away.