“So why have you held on to it this long? You’ve had most of the team wrapped around your little finger for months, you could have given it up to any of them, yet you haven’t. You’re waiting for someone, Ruby, and I think deep down it’s him.”
“Do you know what I think?”
“Hit me with it.”
“I think that’s Zayn’s given you one too many orgasms and you’ve lost your freaking mind.”
“Do you know, if that’s true then I don’t even care.”
I laugh with her. “I’m so happy for you, Pops,” I admit after a few minutes.
“Miracles do happen, right?”
“To some people, for sure. Right now, I just need to focus on cheer, on nationals and surviving Ash.”
“You do what you need to do, but promise me something.”
“Sure.”
“Make sure you really make him work for it.”
“Pops, I’ve already said I’m not—”
“Want to go to Aces? We can see if we can spy on the happy couple,” she interrupts.
“Yes,” I hiss excitedly. “Let me shower and we’ll go. But then I really have to go home,” I say sadly.
“You’ve got this, Rubes. You’re stronger than you think.”
We spend the rest of the morning hanging out at Aces. I was half expecting the team to show up at some point but they never did, and aside from a few others from school at another table, we were left alone to catch up or should I say mostly talk about Zayn. With Harley gone, Poppy was able to talk a little more openly about her new relationship.
The pair of them are so sweet it’s sickening, but I’m incredibly happy for both of them. Hearing her talk about the future as if she actually has a shot at one is everything.
But as the time ticks on, my anxiety about having to go home grows more and more and by the time I drop Poppy off at the Hunter’s, the ball of dread filling my stomach is the only thing I can think about.
When I pull up outside my house, I find Mom’s car in the driveway but Stephen’s is gone, telling me they’re not back yet, and beside it is Ashton’s bike.
“Fuck,” I breathe. Any hope I had that he might not be here is shattered.
Mustering up as much courage as I can, I pull my bags from the trunk and hold my head high as I open the front door and walk inside. This is my home. I refuse to allow his presence to ruin that for me.
I only make it four steps at the most when he emerges from the kitchen, a can of soda in hand and just a pair of low-hanging sweats on his insanely ripped body.
I roll my eyes at myself.
Why couldn’t he have at least been ugly?
He startles when he sees me, obviously he didn’t hear my arrival. It takes me a few seconds, but I soon realize he’s wearing a pair of AirPods.
His eyes drop from mine in favor of my body and one side of his lips curl up in a smirk as he stares at me as if I’m as naked as I was before him last night.
Tension crackles between us as I will my body to move but I’m frozen under his stare.
My heart pounds and my chest heaves. I hate that he can probably read every one of my reactions to him. I need to be better at covering this shit up.
As he closes the space between us, he sucks all the air out of the small space. By the time he’s right in front of me, his fresh, manly scent filling my nose, I’ve totally stopped breathing.
His eyes hold mine for a beat before they drop to my lips. His tongue sneaks out and licks across his full bottom one, but just as I think he’s going to do something, he spins on his heels and starts running up the stairs without saying a fucking word.
The second he’s out of sight, I suck in a huge steadying breath and drop my bags to the floor.
Walking through to the kitchen, I grab enough drinks and snacks so that I don’t have to leave my room for the rest of the afternoon before heading up to my bedroom.
As I pass his door, the first boom of his music fills the house. Decided against the AirPods now then? Of course you have.
I slam my door with as much force as I can muster. It rattles the house but with the volume of his music, I doubt he even realized I did it.
Fucking asshole.
The music continues all afternoon and no matter how loud I make mine, the offensive beat of his shitty rap always overrules mine.
I try to get my homework done but every few minutes my mind wanders. I think back over the night before, over our brief but intense exchange downstairs earlier, but mostly I wonder what he’s doing just on the other side of the wall.
He knows no one here—aside from Krissy—he has no schoolwork or anything to do. What is he doing?
My need to know almost has me off my bed and walking to his door to find out more than once, but I know it would be stupid of me to put myself inside the lion’s den again.
I just need to keep my head down, stay out of his way, and hope he finds something else to distract himself with. Once again, the image I’ve conjured up of Krissy on her knees before him pops into my head and I shake it away. Nothing good can come from picturing them together. I don’t even know why I’m thinking about it. It’s not like I really care.
The sun is just about set when my bedroom door flies open. Ripping my eyes from the paper I was working on—finally able to find some focus—I expect to find him standing there having come up with some new way to torture me but instead when my eyes land on the doorway, I find my mom standing there with her arms crossed over her chest and her face red like she’s about to explode.
“Mom?”
“You’ve got some explaining to do, young lady,” she snaps, her eyes narrowing in my direction.
I turn my music down and I swear, Ashton’s also gets quieter at the same time.
“I’m sorry, I’m not sure—”
“Have a good night last night, did you?”
“Um... yeah, I guess. Why?” I ask, wracking my brain for what the hell I’ve done to piss her off to the point I can see a vein pulsating at her temple. I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen that before.
“Like you don’t know,” she says with an unamused laugh.
“Uh... I really don’t.”
“Care to come and explain this then.” She disappears from my sight before I have a chance to ask her what the hell is going on.
Scrambling off my bed, I follow her down the hall, my brows pinching when I find her standing in her own bedroom doorway at the other end of the house with her hands on her hips.
“Mom, what the... oh,” I breathe, taking in the sight before me.
“You had sex in our bed,” Mom squeals like a woman possessed.
“What? No, no, I didn’t.”
“Well, that’s not what this looks like.”
My eyes take in the scene before me, and I can’t deny that it really does look like I had sex in here. The bedsheets are a mess and half on the floor, there are condom wrappers and—ew—even a condom on the floor. In the middle of the bed is my underwear from last night.
“No, no, no. I didn’t even sleep here last night. I left first thing yesterday morning and—”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses. I expected more from you, Ruby. I thought you had some respect for us.” Disappointment drips from her words and despite the fact I know I didn’t do this, tears burn my eyes. I hate disappointing her, even when I haven’t.