His mood has been up and down during the last part of our journey. I know it’s because we’re getting closer to Seattle and that he’s freaking out. He likes to think he hides all this pain and distress inside, but I see it. I can see the storm swirling behind his dark eyes. And some sick part of me wants to help him take it away.
I shouldn’t. I should let him drown. But I can’t. It’s not who I am. Even if he is a prick.
“Ash, what do you—”
“Get in the back of the car, Ruby,” he hisses, cutting off my question.
My eyes drop to his lips as he talks, and something clenches inside me. It’s been months since he’s kissed me. I’ve almost forgotten what it was like.
Reaching up on my tiptoes, I lock my eyes on his. They’ve darkened since I last looked, his pupils almost swallowing the darkest of brown that’s usually there.
“Don’t test me, right now, little one. It won’t end well for you.”
“Who says I want it to?”
He closes the space between us, and I suck in a breath, thinking that he’s going to kiss me, but right as my eyes start to close, his heat is gone. When I come back to myself, I find the car door open.
“Get the fuck in,” he growls.
This time, I do as I’m told and crawl over my makeshift bed that’s still laid out to the other side, assuming he’s going to join me.
He does and I breathe a sigh of relief because a part of me is expecting him to jump in the front and speed off, forgetting that we had food. That all vanishes the second he closes the door behind him and essentially sucks all the air out of the car.
He places the bag between us and looks at me. “Eat.”
“O-okay.”
I open the bag and start arranging the boxes between us. He grabs what he wants along with a fork and sits back.
We eat in an uncomfortable silence for the longest time. And when a question that’s been eating at me for days finally passes my lips, I regret it instantly.
“Do you really have pictures of me from that night?”
Ashton stops moving with a forkful of noodles halfway to his mouth.
My heart pounds against my ribs at asking such a stupid question. Of course he has. Why wouldn’t he?
A smile twitches up at the corner of his lips before he slowly turns his attention on me.
“What do you think?” he asks before wrapping his lips around his fork and chewing slowly.
I swallow nervously as heat rushes south. How is he even hot eating? It’s all kinds of wrong.
“I think you’re an ass, so anything is possible.”
“There you go then. You didn’t need to even ask.”
“What are you going to do with them?”
He shrugs. “Haven’t decided yet. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, let alone move in. I’m sure I’ll find a use for them at some point.”
“Great, well, I’ll look forward to that then.”
“Don’t be so worried, cheer slut. Give it a few months and I’m sure half the school will have seen what I’ve seen.”
My blood boils at his words.
“Excuse me?”
“What? They’ve already had a good look. Might as well let them see everything, right? Plus, that’s what cheer sluts are there for.”
My teeth grind at his assumption that just because I like cheer, I also like opening my legs for every guy at school.
“Like Krissy?” I seethe.
“Mmm...” he says, making a show of readjusting himself as if the mere mention of her name turns him on. My stomach turns over, making me want to puke the dinner I’ve only just eaten. “Her mouth was almost worth coming to Rosewood for.”
“You’re a pig.” Dropping the container I was eating from to the seat, I push the door open and climb out.
“Where are you going?”
“Getting away from you.”
I slam the door on him before he has a chance to respond.
Thoughts of him spending time with Krissy shouldn’t bother me as they do. Most of the guys at school have spent time with Krissy, and I don’t give a shit about them. So why do I care about him? Why do thoughts of them together make me want to go and rip Krissy’s hair clean from her scalp for touching him?
“ARGH,” I scream into the silent night of wherever the hell we are in an attempt to expel the pent-up energy that’s vibrating around inside me.
I need to run, cheer, get drunk. Anything. Anything to make it—and him—go away.
As I pace beside the car, I’m aware of his eyes on me, but I don’t look back. It would be pointless anyway with the blacked-out window he’s hiding behind.
I’m nowhere near as calm as I want to be when I pull open the driver’s door and fall down into the seat. I readjust it so my little legs can reach the pedals and then start the car.
“What are you—”
“Shut up, Ashton. Just shut up,” I seethe, starting the engine and turning up the radio the second it comes on to drown him out. “Go to sleep or something,” I call before turning it up a few more notches.
He grumbles something but, thankfully, I can’t make it out as I put the car into drive and head for Seattle on finally, the last leg of our journey.
Despite the fact my eyes remain locked on the road ahead, I feel his burn into me for the longest time.
“Can’t you go to sleep or something?” I bark at him after turning the music down a few notches.
“But watching you fume is so much fun,” he quips. “You want any more food?”
“What have you done to it?”
“I laced it with poison.” I don’t need to look back at him to know he’s rolling his eyes. “Nothing, but you barely touched it.”
“The company ruined my appetite. Put it in the bag, I might have more when I finally get away from you.”
“You do know that’s not happening, right?”
“Yeah, about that—”
“Not up for discussion.”
“Our parents have my suitcase, my clothes, my everything.” Or at least I hope they do, seeing as we walked out of the airport leaving everything behind.
“You’ll get your stuff, don’t worry.”
“Great,” I mutter. “Now go to sleep. You’re annoying me.”
He chuckles but after a few seconds, he does at least lie-down and disappear from my sight.
I keep the music low because despite the fact I want to annoy the shit out of him as he does me, I’m not an evil person and I’m aware of just how many hours he’s been driving for.
The sun is beginning to come up and scenery around me changes as I make my way into central Seattle, my eyes flit around the buildings, the city coming to life as I slow my speed and begin to pay more attention to the GPS so I don’t make a wrong turn.
Finally, the screen shows we’re only minutes away from our destination. It’s a welcome sign after all the hours it had shown when we first left.
I’m starting to believe that Ashton’s admission that he lived in the ghetto was nothing more than a joke as I navigate through the city. I pass the hotel that Mom had mentioned in her message and I almost pull over and abandon Ashton in the car with my need for a shower and a comfortable bed, but I glance back at him sleeping and I realize I can’t.