Page 37 of Lovingly Restored

She giggles, ducking away from my hand which is now sticky from the remnants of her snack. “I would never bring someone back to your grandmother’s house. I don’t know why I said that. I’m sorry.”

I scrub my hand over my face. “You don’t have to be sorry about wanting to have fun.”

“I would have used my own apartment.”

Thelocationisn’t the problem. I’m wracking my brain to figure out how to tell her that when she keeps talking.

“How do peopledothat? Just go home with strangers? How can you trust someone you know nothing about to…“ she waves her hands around like she can’t think of the right word. “Treat you right?”

Christ.I rub a hand over my face. She’s going to be the death of me. Treat her right? I’ll show her the definition of being treated right. At a red light, I glance over. Her heels are off, legs tucked beneath her, that dress riding up. The darkness of the cab makes the contrast between the black fabric and her skin more obvious. She nods in the intersection’s direction; the light turned green while I was ogling her.

“So, you wouldn’t have minded if I went home with someone?” Her face fades in and out of visibility with each streetlight I pass.

That’snotwhat I meant.

Screw it.

“I would mind.” I rub my jaw. “Not because I’m judging you, but because I’m jealous.”

There it is. Something about sitting side by side in a dark moving vehicle makes people open up. Level playing field or some shit. Her mouth pops open, and I glance at her lips. The lipstick is worn off, leaving her mouth the natural shade of pink I’m used to seeing. I imagine kissing those pink lips and wonder if any other parts of Ashlyn are the same colour.

She crosses her arms over her chest and huffs. “I guess you were right.”

On any other night I’d make her repeat it, just to bother her. “Right about what?”

“That I’m too…controlling to be able to be casual. That I’m boring.”

”Ineversaid you were boring.”

“Well, I am.”

I can’t stand how dejected she sounds. Ashlyn may be a homebody at heart, but she keeps me on my toes and makes me laugh. She treats my grandmother like gold. A boring girl wouldn’t have me walking around the house sporting a semi half the time. A boring girl wouldn’t talk to plants and keep them in the goddamn shower. She’s worried about being treated right and being able to trust someone? A dangerously half-cocked plan forms in the most primitive part of my brain. She reaches across the console, placing her hand on my thigh, the heat of her palm penetrating the soft fabric.

“I don’t want to be boring, Isaac.”

Oh, Jesus.

She grips my quad, the pressure travelling right to my crotch. My mind came up with the plan, but it’s my dick that makes me say it.

“What if you had the best of both worlds?”

“Both worlds?”

“Beingtreatedright. Good sex with someone you can trust. That you’re safe with.”

The idea of Ashlyn getting it on with some drunk fumbling idiot is too much to bear. A condom can only keep her safe in one sense. I cover her hand with mine. We’re pulling into the driveway, and I’m more aroused than I’ve been in ages, the loose sweats doing nothing to hide it. If we had the time, I’d park us at the beach and show her how non-boring she is, but Chris is waiting. I need a minute to compose myself before we go inside. Minutes have passed since I spit out the half-assed idea, and I’m thinking she’s gonna let it slide. Breakfast tomorrow will be awkward as hell.

“Did you have someone in mind?” Her voice is soft and breathy, and any progress I’d made on losing the raging boner is undone.

“I do.” I shift in my seat, gently moving my thumb across the back of her hand like I’d done the night we met. The ticking sounds of the cooling engine are loud in the dark garage.

“This is my job.” She gestures toward the house.

“Look at me, Ash. No matter what happens between us, it won’t jeopardize your job. I promise. That comes first. Mummo is the most important person in the house.”

She nods. “Good, that’s good.”

“I’m working here, too. I need the workshop. I’m only going to get busier.”

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