Page 33 of The Flavor of Us

Chapter fourteen

TATI

The air outside is crisp, biting at my cheeks as Ashton and I walk side by side down the sidewalk. My heart’s still doing this stupid tap-dance routine in my chest, my hands shoved deep into the pockets of my hoodie to keep from fidgeting.

Ashton, on the other hand, is the epitome of casual. Hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket, his long legs eating up the pavement effortlessly as he strolls beside me like we’ve been doing this for years. His rich citrusy scent wraps around me in a way that’s almost suffocating but also soothing? I don’t know. It’s too much and not enough, all at once.

“Alright, little doe,” he drawls, tilting his head slightly as he glances over at me with those stupidly pretty brown eyes. “Where are we headed?”

I freeze mid-step, turning my wide eyes to him like a deer caught in headlights. “Uh… nowhere?”

One of his brows arches, amusement flickering across his face. “Nowhere?”

I sigh, kicking a stray pebble down the street before looking away. “It’s not like I had a plan, okay? I just… it was too much. Back there. In the house. Your scent, Ryder’s scent, Carleen’s scent—it was just…” I groan, throwing my head back and letting out an exaggerated noise of frustration. “Too much.”

When I look back at Ashton, he’s grinning. Like, full-ongrinning, dimples showing, and everything. “Too much, huh?” he murmurs, taking a slow step closer to me.

I freeze again, my breath hitching in my throat as his large hand reaches out and gently takes mine. My heart stutters as his thumb brushes lightly over my knuckles before he lifts my hand toward his face. His lips press against the back of my hand, his eyes never leaving mine.

It’s like the entire street disappears.

It’s justhim. Just Ashton.

And then it hits me.

Like a freight train.

Those eyes—those ridiculously pretty brown eyes, framed by thick lashes, with just a glint of mischief and heat behind them—Iknowthose eyes. My breath catches as realization slams into me. “You!”

The word bursts out of me and I yank my hand back, stumbling a step away from him. Ashton tilts his head, his smirk growing wider as his hands drop back into his pockets. “Me,” he confirms, his voice low and playful.

I point at him, my finger trembling slightly as my face turns a shade of red I didn’t even know was possible. “You—you were at Euphoria! You—you’ve been there before!”

His grin turns downrightwickedas he takes a lazy step toward me. “I wondered how long it’d take you to figure it out, little doe.”

Little doe.

That word. Thatname.

I’ve heard it before—softly whispered in the dark, barely audible over the pulse of the music, from a figure tucked away in the shadows of the club. A man whose eyes always followed me as I danced, whose presence felt heavy andwarmeven from across the room. There were a few times I served his table but seeing Ashton here—my secret admirer and now myAlphahere, everything just becomes a bit too much—more than it already was.

“You’re—oh my Goddess—you’rehim!”

Ashton chuckles, the sound deep and smooth, like velvet being dragged across gravel. “Guilty as charged, sweetheart.”

My face is onfire. I can barely breathe, let alone process what’s happening right now. “You—you knew it was me?” I sputter.

He shrugs, his smirk softening slightly into something more gentle, worry etching into his brows. “Not at first. But then I caught your scent back at the house, and… yeah. It clicked.”

I groan, covering my face with my hands. “This is too much. Too much. Nope. Can’t do this.”

I spin on my heel, ready to bolt, but Ashton’s hand closes gently around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. “Tati,” he says softly. “Hey. Breathe. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

I freeze, my back still to him, my chest rising and falling way too fast. He steps closer, all of those gorgeously hard ridges pressed up against me. “Look, we don’t have to go anywhere. You don’t have to run errands and I don’t have to follow you around like some lovesick puppy. But I think maybe you just need a break from all the chaos. Yeah?”

I turn my head slightly, just enough to catch his expression. His face is soft now, his smirk gone, replaced with something concerned. Ashton tilts his head toward a little café across the street—a tiny corner spot with fairy lights strung up on theawning and mismatched chairs scattered around the outdoor patio.

“Come on,” he says, his voice coaxing. “Let me buy you a coffee—or tea, or whatever you like. Just… let’s sit down for a minute. No pressure, no expectations.”

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