Page 25 of Off the Rim
"Hey," I reply. "What exactly is happening here? I could hear you thumping around from down the hall."
"Yeah, sorry. I just… overestimated how awkward this thing would be. I should have asked for a door delivery." His lips are turned down, like he's figuring out a puzzle.
"Or you could just ask for help."
Ashton clears his throat. "I’ve got it.”
“Clearly,” I deadpan, gesturing to the elevator as it attempts to close again. “Let me guess, none of your friends want to break a nail? And no one from the maintenance staff was available at your beck and call? On a Sunday, during Labor Day weekend?"
He has the decency to look at least a little embarrassed. Huffing out a breath, because I know helping him is only going to causeme trouble, I bend down and lift the end of the box. Instructing him to lift his side high enough to allow me to skirt inside the elevator, we manage to lean the box on the wall. The doors close behind me, trapping me in with the man of my nightmares, the sound of his breaths, the smell of his cologne or deodorant or whatever it is that's both sweet and spicy and just subtle enough that I want to move closer to identify what it is. That he smells so good, especially when he's red faced and sweating, makes me irrationally angry. By the time the elevator opens again, I'm grateful for the fresh air. Except this whole fucking floor apparently smells like him.
Backing out of the elevator slowly, I help Ashton carry the box through the large open lobby. What floor are we even on? I was too distracted trying not to breathe to pay attention, and that made the ride up seem to go on forever.
"Where are we taking this?"
Ashton gestures with his chin to a door. I've never been on any of the upper floors, so I'm not sure what's up here other than dorms. It looks very different from my floor.
What I'm not expecting is for us to walk into what looks like a small apartment. There's a sitting area with a couch and television, a dismantled bedframe and queen-sized mattress set piled on the floor. Ashton leads us through a cutout door and into an empty room that I'm assuming is a bedroom. There are more dismantled pieces of furniture littering the space. He guides me to set the box down in the center of the mess, then stretches out his back.
"Thanks. I really appreciate it."
"Yeah. No problem," I say quietly. Not wanting to stay and chat, I turn on my heel to get the hell out of here when I notice an open door across from the bedroom. Is that…
"You have your own bathroom?" It's more of an accusation than a question, because what the fuck? Why has he been coming all the way down to my floor to shower if he not only lives several floors above me, but also has his own private shower? Make it make sense!
"Oh. Um—” I think for a moment that he's going to try to come up with some excuse or bullshit reason, but he surprises me by admitting it. "Yeah," he says awkwardly.
Do I even want to know?
"So, what? You come down to the first floor to shower in a stall because…" I wave my hands around, indicating for him to fill in the blanks here, because I'm at a loss. "Wait. Never mind. Don't answer that. I get it."
"What?"
"That you're fucking with me. I don't understand what your deal is. It's bad enough that you're here at all, but you can't just leave me alone and let me pretend…"
"Pretend I don't exist? After all this time, you still hate me so much?"
"Yes! You ruined my fucking life, Ashton."
He crosses his arms, and I'm too pissed to even appreciate the way it makes his biceps bulge. "I think that's a little dramatic. It's been four years. We were kids."
If I could lobotomize him with the daggers I'm shooting from my eyes right now, I would. I'm practically trembling with rage.Goddamn selfish, self-righteous, entitled fucking prick!
The incredulous widening of his eyes tells me those weren't inside thoughts, but so be it. Maybe he needs to hear the hard truth. I don't expect him to change or even care that much, but I'm not letting him off the hook.
"It took me years to get to where I am, Ashton.Years. I lost everything. While you were off gallivanting around California living like a celebrity, I was working my ass off, only to barely be accepted as a member of this team. I finally have something to show for the work I've put in, and you have to show up to take it away from me. Why? Why are you fucking here, Ashton?"
I can hear my voice getting higher the more worked up I get, and it reminds me of my father's funeral, and the way my mother broke down. It's the reminder I need to pull my shit together and get far, far away.
Ashton opens his mouth to say something, but I hold my hand up. "Don't bother. It's not worth it."
The words sting with the rejection and betrayal I felt all those years ago.
"Marc—"
"Stay away from me, Ashton."
My heart hammers in my chest, sweat pouring over my drenched body, legs aching with the effort of each step. Runningon these mountain roads has been fantastic for my legs and cardio, but right now, it feels like every step is heavier than usual.
