Ugh, he’s so assertive.
Why do I like it? Down girl, down. We’re supposed to be mad at him.
Sighing and letting some of my anger dissipate, I shuffle over to the side of my full-sized bed to make room for him. We can’t lay shoulder to shoulder like we did when we were little without half falling off the bed now. He’s way too massive for that so I end up laying on my side facing him, while he lays on his back with his arms stretched behind his head.
I put my hand on his stomach and marvel at the feel of his smooth skin, and then shake him slightly to get his attention.
“Earth to Ash. What do you want? I was trying to go to sleep if you haven't noticed. Lights were off. I was about to attempt to become a human burrito in my comforter.”
He continues to lay in silence up to the point that I think I’ll need to repeat myself again or gently extract the words from his mind like I used to do when we were growing up.
Ash and I bonded over our mutual trauma growing up. One night when Beth held me on the recliner, trying to soothe my tears, Ash had timidly come up next to me. He placed his small hand on my own and said, “I’ve been hurt too.”
That moment had helped me feel like I wasn’t alone in my living nightmare, like I had someone who truly understood my pain. We’ve had a deep understanding of each other ever since that night. He’s been able to open up to me more about it over the years, preferring to speak to me instead of the others about the details.
What can I say? I’m nurturing as fuck.
My heart broke for him every time he struggled to communicate with us while growing up. His foster parents had whipped him anytime he spoke when he was not directly asked a question, even though he’d been so little, unaware of how to communicate properly.
His scars have faded to small, white lines with time, but they are still very much there. His flashbacks are near nonexistent now, like my own, but I always try to be empathetic and help him through his moments when he falters.
“Hale told us about your conversation tonight,” he finally says. “About you acting like you don’t have deeper feelings for us. That’s why we were laughing, Lana.”
My mouth drops open with a sharp intake of breath. This can’t be happening. Why would they laugh at that? Am I a joke to them?
In a rare moment of my facade cracking, I feel my eyes burning as tears stream down my face silently. I knew this wouldn’t work and now they’re laughing at me.
Wanting to turn over to hide my sorrow, I push my hand against his stomach as leverage to get away. As I go to turn over, Ash’s own hand grips mine, halting my retreat. He places it over his heart.
Sniffling softly, I still at the movement. Under my palm, I can feel the erratic beating of his heart. It mirrors my own.
What the fuck does he have to be nervous about? Breaking my heart?
“Fuck, I’m terrible with words. You know this. We know you want something more than friendship. We know, because we feel the same. We were laughing because somehow, you really think we can’t see it. We might be dumbasses sometimes, but we aren’t blind, Lana.”
My breathing ceases all together and my eyes widen at his words.
They’re interested in me? All of them?
“I … I don’t know what to say, Ash,” I confess, feeling emotional whiplash.
I truly am at a loss for what to say to him. What do you say when the one thing you’ve been wanting your whole life finally has the chance to become a reality? It seems like a dream, everything I had hoped for. And yet, it seems too good to be true.
The walls I’ve built to hold them back can’t just be dissolved with a snap of my fingers. Plus, I have so many damn questions.
How will we move forward as a group with these changes? Will I have to choose only one? Will I be able to handle the physical aspects that come with a relationship?
My mind is currently on information overload and I need at least three tequila shots and an hour of acting like he didn’t actually just say that, before I can even begin to process what this all means.
He removes his hand from mine and pulls my body closer slowly, giving me a chance to stop him at any point. He drapes my leg across his, as the feel of his hand on my bare skin sends delicious shivers through me.
Thank God I remembered to shave my legs this morning. Or should I be thanking the Goddess?
He tucks me into his side with my head lying on his shoulder and it’s the most intimate position I have ever been in with a man willingly, having not given any other guy the time of day before to get to this point.
With my body flush up against his like this, I can’t help but appreciate the hard lines of his body and the warmth exuding from him as my hands roam his chest absentmindedly. This fine specimen of a man wants me?
“You don’t need to say anything. We don’t need to figure it all out tonight. Go to sleep.” He plants a kiss on the top of my head, making butterflies erupt in my stomach at the rare display of affection.
He’s the least affectionate of all of them, choosing to use sarcasm as his form of affection, much like me. I never take it personally, of all people, I get it. My heart’s beating a million miles a minute, but I know I’m not ready to delve deeper into this, emotionally or physically, so I allow myself to relax into Ash’s warm body.
I could definitely get used to this.
Chapter Three
Ash
There’s a pleasant warmth against my side.
I sigh in contentment and snuggle closer to said warmth, moving my head to get comfy. Something featherlike brushes my nose, making it twitch as a sneeze threatens. I could pinch my nose to suppress it but that will require moving and sneezing is much more satisfying than moving.
Achoo! I sigh at the immediate relief.
“What the fuck!” a loud feminine voice screeches next to me as my source of warmth writhes.
I jump at the noise, my hands flying to cover my ears. Good lord, that was a piercing sound! I didn’t know we were homing a banshee! Wait…
My eyes fly open to take in my surroundings. White furniture, cream comforter, white, fuzzy pillows. A sense of doom overtakes me.
Why the fuck am I in Lana’s bedroom? I should not have a fucking raging hard-on in Lana’s room.
Morning wood is such a fickle bitch.
The memories of last night filter through my sleep-addled brain and a chorus of fuck’s and fuck the guys starts sounding off in my brain. I’m probably the worst of our group at talking about feelings and the fuckers still voted for me to tackle this last night. How fucking embarrassing.
Maybe they were hoping she would take pity on me as I stuttered to get the words out. But instead of fucking halting and faltering, my mouth spouted out the worst case of verbal diarrhea.
At least all of my—no, our—feelings for this beautiful woman are finally out in the open.
I give myself a mental pat on the back for how well I ended up doing last night. Well, besides the part where she cried because of me. I wince at the memory of hurting her, however briefly.
“Ash, did you just sneeze on my fucking face?!”
Oh fuck, Lana’s the banshee.
My dick’s tenting my shorts. How the fuck am I supposed to handle this situation? She’s not supposed to see this yet! We need to ease into the emotional side first … I think. I don’t know how this shit works!