Page 56 of Fateful Exposure

Maria's phone began to beep with incoming messages, and so did mine. It was madness. My phone was the last thing I wantedto look at right now. I would literally lose my shit if I saw any more “Selma Volkov is a whore” headlines.

Reaching for my device, Maria silenced both of ours by pressing a side button. Then she returned mine to the table with its screen down, which was most likely a good thing.

But it didn't help that much. I was still burning up inside. She went back to typing and scrolling.

"I'm sorry," Maria said worriedly as she lifted her head up to look at me.

"It's like last time repeating itself all over again," I muttered with a shake of my head. "We've put so much into this forthisto happen, Maria. The time, the sacrifice, working late hours, and everything in place to make sure it didn't blow up in disaster. And now, to have it all unravel as though it wasn't worth anything…"

Maria pushed up from the sofa and crossed over to me to rub her hand down my back. "We knew what we were getting into when we decided to enter into this world. It'll be fine, alright? I'll make some calls, and the blog post will be down before you wake up."

"Doesn't help much when the entire world has seen it, does it?"

"You leave that to me to figure out. Try not to let that bother you."

The doorknob turned, and the door opened, causing us both to look in its direction. My lower stomach fluttered as Ashton came into view, and at that moment, all I wanted was for him to hold me and tell me that it would be okay. I wouldn't believe him, but I wanted to hear it from him regardless.

"Alright, I'm going to go. I haven't showered all day, and I smell like shit." Maria grabbed her small purse and tucked her phone into it, hanging the strap on her shoulder. Her eyes locked on mine, and she smiled. "I'll call you in the morning. In the meantime, try not to sulk too much. Worse things have happened."

I returned her smile, though I knew she could tell it wasn't heartfelt. She didn't comment, and after whispering something to Ashton, she saw herself out.

"What did she say to you?" I asked, noticing the worried lines of his mouth and the crinkling of his eyes.

Where did he go?

Upon nearing me, he gathered me in his arms and lifted me, the blanket falling to the floor. I let out a squeal of surprise, clinging to his neck.

"That you smell like shit too,” he said, “and need a shower."

"I do not," I mumbled, and his lips tilted. Though Maria was probably right. I didn't shower in the morning, and it was already evening. His apartment wasn't that different from mine.In structure, that was. When he walked down a hallway, I knew he was headed for the master bedroom.

Unlike his minimalistic and monochrome decor, my apartment was more colorful. It felt a little more lived-in, which made sense because I'd been living here much longer than him.

He opened the door to his bedroom, heading straight for the bathroom without giving me time to take it in. Setting me down on the toilet seat, he started to run a bath. I sighed, wondering how he knew a bath would make me feel better than a shower right now.

I watched as he turned on the tap, playing with the temperature of the water with his fingers until he felt it was good enough before switching it off. Then he walked over to where I sat on the toilet and knelt before me.

"Take these off." He gestured to my flip-flops. I removed my feet from them, watching, transfixed, as he arranged them to one side of the door. Then he pushed forward off his heels to throw my shirt over my head.

"Trying to get me naked, are you?" The shirt came off, but my joke was the one that went over his head. I bit my lower lip, watching his hardened face. When he instructed me to lift my hips, I did, and he pulled my shorts down my legs, leaving me completely naked.

Unlike the many other times Ashton had seen me naked, his eyes didn't devilishly rake over my body. As a matter of fact, his jawwas clenched so tightly I was surprised he still had teeth. My heart sank into my stomach as dread filled me. Had he finally come to his senses and realized he didn't have to deal with my baggage? That he could be with someone more agreeable and who didn't carry trouble with her wherever she went? I wouldn't be surprised. My father had left when the responsibility had gotten to be too much, and Alex, the bastard, had been the one who had created the problem before taking off.

My point was that they all left eventually, and I didn't expect Ashton to be any different. He had an image to protect, after all.

"Whatever is going on in that pretty head of yours, peaches, I suggest you stop,” he said.

I met his eyes, swallowing a thick ball of saliva. It unsettled me how attuned he was to my emotions. Almost as if he could read me with a single look. I didn't like it.

"I wasn't thinking anything," I argued.

"You're not fooling me; I'm not going anywhere."

I tensed. Could he actually read me? If that was the case, then I was screwed.

twenty-four

Ashton

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