His hands framed her face. “You weren’t out with someone else.” It wasn’t a question.
“No. You’re the only man I’ve been remotely interested in for more than a year. I’ve had a crush on you forever.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know if I can claim the same…but I know I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Worrying about you. Needling you so you’d go off on me.”
Ashlyn rolled her eyes even as Slate wiped the lingering wetness from her cheeks with his thumbs. “So you acted like a grade-school kid picking on the girl he likes because he didn’t know how else to get her attention.”
“Pretty much,” Slate agreed. Then he slowly leaned toward her.
His kiss was light, almost hesitant. As if it was the first they’d ever shared. And in many ways, it was. The first of their new, serious, very committed relationship.
When he pulled back, Slate rested his forehead against hers.
“How in the world are we gonna tell everyone, after all these months of insisting that we’re nothing but casual, that all of a sudden we love each other and we’re in a serious relationship?” she mumbled.
In response, Slate moved a hand to her hip to hold her steady, then leaned enough to reach into his back pocket with the other. He brought out his phone, using both hands to type something.
“Slate? What are you doing?”
“Give me a second.”
“Seriously, Slate, what—”
“There. It’s done. Everyone knows, so no more worrying about it.”
“What’s done? What did you do?”
He turned his phone around, and Ashlyn stared at the group text he’d just sent.
Slate: Ash and I are in love. We’re gonna get married someday in the hopefully not-too-distant future. The first person who says “I knew it” or “I told you so” isn’t gonna be invited to the wedding.
“Oh my God! I can’t believe you just sent that. Who did you send it to?” Ashlyn asked, torn between being mortified and laughing hysterical.
“Everyone.”
“You did not!”
“Yup.”
Just then, his phone started vibrating in his hand as people responded to the message. Not only that, but Ashlyn could hear her own phone, still in her purse by the door, dinging with notifications.
“You’re impossible.”
“And you love me anyway.”
She smiled. “I do.”
His facial expression turned serious. “I’ll do my best to never hurt you like that again, babe. But if I do, don’t just take it. You give as good as you get. Always. I can’t deal with the thought of you sleeping on your couch, crying your eyes out over something I did or said, ever again.”
Figures he didn’t miss that was exactly what she’d been doing for the last two days. “I will.”
“I mean it. I’ll always get my head out of my ass, but you calling me on my shit will help that happen sooner.”
“Okay.”
“Now that we’re good—we are good, right?”
“We’re good, Slate.”
He nodded. “Okay. Now that we’re good, I’m thinking I need to lie down for a while.”
Ashlyn frowned in alarm. “Why? Does your head hurt? Should I call a doctor? Maybe Mustang should come over. Since he’s been looking after you, he’ll know if you need to go to the hospital, right?”
“Shhhh. I’m all right. I’m just tired. And my head still hurts a bit. But nothing like before.”
“Are you sure? You’re not just telling me that so I don’t freak out?”
“I’m sure.”
Ashlyn breathed out a sigh of relief. “When was the last time you ate?”
“Before I came over here. Aleck made me eat eggs and a shake.”
“How about you go lie down and I make you something for dinner. Maybe some lasagna? I’ll put lots of meat in it for more protein. And the carbs will probably do you good.”
“How about I lie here while you cook?” he countered.
“Okay. That’s better. I can keep an eye on you,” Ashlyn agreed. Then said sheepishly, “And there’s already a blanket and pillow out here anyway.”
Slate frowned. “Hate that I hurt you, babe.”
“It’s okay. Done and over with. We’re moving on. I mean, apparently we’re getting married at some point, even though I don’t remember you asking, or me saying yes.”
Slate grinned and leaned forward and kissed her deeply. “I know when I’ve found something good, and you, babe, are the best fucking thing to ever happen to me. We’re getting married. Maybe not tomorrow, or next month, but it’s gonna happen.”
“You that sure we’ll work out? That we won’t get tired of each other?”
“I’m that sure,” he said without a shred of doubt in his voice. “I didn’t live through that RPG attack to continue being a dumbass.”
Ashlyn couldn’t help but smile, even though she still hated to even think about what he’d been through. Then something else hit her. “Do you think he’s okay?”
Proving they were on the same wavelength, Slate didn’t have to ask who she was talking about. “I don’t know. My gut says no, but my heart hopes that since I survived, maybe he did too. Maybe his parents came and dug him out after we left. The guys didn’t find him while they were searching for me.”
“It’s all so sad,” Ashlyn said.
“It is. Kids are innocent. I hate that someone twisted his little mind into harboring such hate so early in his life.”
Ashlyn leaned forward and rested her body weight against Slate. His arms went around her and they sat like that for a few minutes.
“Food,” she said, eventually sitting back with a sigh. When she looked into Slate’s face, she could see the way he furrowed his brow as if his head was hurting. She climbed off him, leaned down, kissed him briefly, picked up the blanket that was still on the floor and pointed at the pillow. “Lie down.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And to think you could’ve had this excellent bedside service for the last couple of days,” she joked as she spread the blanket over him when he settled on his back.
“Yeah.”
Except he didn’t sound as if he found her words funny.
“I was joking,” she said.
“I wasn’t. I made you cry. And almost lost you. It won’t happen again.”
“I know.” And she did. “Nap, Slate. When you wake up, we’ll eat, then get you settled into bed. Wait, do you need to work tomorrow?”
“No. I’ve got the week off.”
“Okay, cool. I’ll call Lex and see if she can get someone to cover for my delivery route for a few days.”
“I’ll be okay hanging out while you do your thing,” he protested.
“Nope. I’m putting my foot down. I almost lost you,” she said, whispering that last part. “Give me a few days.”
“Done,” he said without hesitation. “I’d love to have you look after me while I’m recuperating.”