He shakes his head and chuckles. “Who do you think? Ashton.”
I shrug like I’m unfazed, but my insides are doing little cartwheels.
Stupid insides.
I’m grateful when he pulls up outside the shelter. I don’t like where this conversation is going. “For the record, I don’t like him.”
“Yes, you do.”
I so do.
“It’s irrelevant, anyway, I’ll never see him again.” Running into him twice in one day was a fluke, right?
He watches me as I remove my seat belt and open the door. “Thanks for the ride,” I say, briefly glancing at him over my shoulder.
“Do you need me to pick you up later?”
“All good. I’m sure Carla will be awake by then. She’ll come and get me.” I exit the car, bending my body slightly to make eye contact. “I appreciate the offer, though.”
Grinning, he opens a small flap in the center console, pulling something out. “Here’s my card just in case you get stuck. My number’s down a the bottom.”
“Thank you.” I slide it into the side pocket of my bag, but I already know I won’t be calling him.
“Oh, and Red?” I reach for the handle to pull down the door as he leans across the seat. “Never say never,” he says with a wink.
What in the hell does that even mean?
Chapter Five
ASHTON
“Get dressed,” Grayson orders, strolling into my bedroom uninvited. His eyes zero in on my waist where the sheet has tented, and he shakes his head. My cock goes instantly soft.
Thank Christ.
I should’ve called him over a few hours ago. I was worried I’d be walking around with the boner all day.
I’ve been able to feel her, smell her, and taste her—all damn night. All this from a kiss, albeit an incredible one. The way her hot pussy ground against my leg as I ravished her sweet mouth, I almost came in my pants like a twelve-year-old. All I wanted to do was bring her home so I could taste her, then bury myself deep inside her.
Just thinking about it fills me with rage. She’s the first rejection I’ve ever had, and if I’m honest with myself, it stings like a motherfucker.
After the shit I went through with Anastasia, I swore off women. That lasted about eight months—I’m only human, after all. I was tired of feeling dead inside—that, combined with Grayson’s constant nagging like a whiny bitch—reminded me I needed to start living again. Not that I’ve been doing that the past six years, I’d call it more existing for lack of a better word.
I’m a changed man.
At least I’m leaving the house.
I wasn’t always opposed to relationships, but the things I endured during our time together, and again after Anastasia and I split, damaged me. But despite that, I still craved the companionship. I ached for it. My hookups may be fleeting and purely carnal, but they’re on my terms. It’s imperative I maintain control.
Hence, my rules.
Rules I’ve never broken.
Until last night.
Until Emma.
Three within a matter of minutes.
Not only did I tell her my full name, I kissed her on the mouth, and had every intention of bringing her back here. Well, I would’ve if she hadn’t turned me down.
“Ever heard of knocking on the front door?” I grumble.
He shrugs. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be up yet, so I brought my key with me.”
“Did you even entertain the idea of knocking before using said key? What if I had company?”
“You never bring chicks back here.”
I almost did last night.
“Whatever,” I say, rolling onto my side and giving him my back.
“You’re still in a fabulous mood, I see. Dude, this chick’s got you all kinds of fucked-up.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my mood, and I don’t even know what chick you’re referring to.”
I’m such a liar.
“As if you don’t… the one with the great tits.” My brow furrows as I glare at him over my shoulder. When he cups his hands against his chest and bounces them in front of him to emphasize his point, it takes all my strength not to react. But, he’s right. He knows me better than anyone. She’s under my skin, and I hate it.
“You’re delusional if you think that. And stop talking about her tits.”
My response has him smirking.
Asshole.
“Get up and shower, we’re going out to lunch.”
“I don’t feel like it.”
“Too bad, I’m not taking no for an answer.” Grayson crosses the room and grabs hold of the sheet covering me, tugging it off. I’m naked, but it doesn’t bother him in the slightest. “Get up, Barclay.”
He’s a great friend, but there are times when I could punch him. This is how he treated me after Anastasia, when my life plummeted into the deep, dark abyss. I hated him for it at the time, but I understand why he did it. It took a while, but he pretty much single-handedly got me back on my feet. His friendship never wavered, even when things were tough. For that, I’ll be eternally grateful.
Begrudgingly, I climb out of bed. “Happy now, dickhead?” I grumble.
The truth is, I’ve been lying here for hours just staring at the ceiling analyzing every second of my run-in with Emma yesterday morning, followed by the kiss last night. The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. I even dreamed about Anastasia, which is something I haven’t done for the longest time.
Has she come into my life to taunt me?
Is she my karma?
I should’ve kept walking last night when she was being groped on the dance floor, but the reality is I couldn’t have done that. I most definitely shouldn’t have kissed her, though, even if it was the best damn kiss I’ve ever had. Or maybe, I’m building this up in my head—it’s been over six years since I’ve kissed anyone on the mouth. Yeah, I’m sure that’s all this is.
Who am I kidding?
“I’m going to make a coffee while you shower.”
“Help yourself.”
“I intended to,” he says, chuckling.
My eyebrows pinch together when he pulls up alongside the animal shelter. “I thought we were going for lunch?”
“We are. Just making a small detour.”
“At the shelter? Why?”
He shrugs as he removes his seatbelt. “I’ve been thinking about getting a dog.”
“Really? Since when?” This is news to me.
“A while now.”
“You can barely look after yourself, Edwards, do you think it’s wise to take on a huge responsibility like that? You’re thirty years old, and your momma still washes your damn clothes.”
“I said I was thinking about it, I haven’t made up my mind yet. And besides, my mom likes looking after me, so leave her out of this.” She’s good like that. If I asked my mother to wash my clothes, she’d hand them to one of her maids.
He opens the driver’s side door, stepping out of the vehicle. “Are you coming?”
“Fine,” I say, tugging off my belt. “Someone has to be there to stop you from doing something stupid.”