Page 27 of All That Glitters
He pressed a hand to the wall beside my head. He didn’t say anything, he simply stared down at me. I tried to hold his stare, I really did, but I couldn’t. If I did, he’d eventually realize what he was doing to me, the hold he had on me that had nothing to do with physical touch.
“Ashton…” I breathed.
“I like my name on your lips. I’ve always liked it. In fact, I like everything about your lips.”
His words caught me sideways and absently, or self-consciously, or stupidly, I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and the smile that crossed his mouth could only be defined as feral.
My heart beat wildly and I let go of my lip, but then, even more stupidly, my tongue darted out to lick where I’d bitten down a little too hard.
“Naughty girl, Helen. I wasn’t sure you had it in you.”
“Had what in me?”
I immediately regretted the word choice.
“Now isn’t that a question… Hm. I look forward to finding out the answer.”
I was afraid to breathe, to move, to speak. There was something so hypnotic about being with Ashton like this, outside in the dark, a house full of our friends and family inside. I was also confused. I had no idea what was going on and was completely out of my element with him this way.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly.
That was an interesting inquiry and one that seemed out of place.
“I… Yes.”
He pushed off the wall and put distance between us, not only physically, but when I chanced a look, lights from the house showed me what I had wanted to know. His eyes were cold, distant and I shivered.
“Good. As you said, we should get back to the party.”
7
Ashton
Walking away from Helen Troye in that moment was physically, unexpectedly painful. It had little to do with the unexpected discomfort in my pants, and while I’d have preferred that to be the only effect she had on me, it wasn’t.
Written all over her face was want, hunger. And a little fear. That little bit of fear and uncertainty didn’t change the fact that I planned to violate our friendship by teasing her, playing with her, seducing her, leaving her.
I hated myself for it, for the whole idea, but I hated other things more and Hale’s anger and hurt would be worth it.
I couldn’t stop second guessing myself, though.
Could I do it? Could I really do that to her? She was the only woman I could count as a friend. She was also the only woman I’d ever compared other women to and none of them ever measured up.
What I was thinking was nuts, and cruel, but she was the only other thing in this world that Hale cared about as much as racing and until I could get back into a car and back on the track, until I could get everyone, including my father to believe all was well, Helen was the only way I could hurt Hale.
The time I spent with her on the terrace brought the incessant buzzing in my brain down to a low hum. It was one of the reasons I stayed with her as long as I did. I hadn’t planned to take her outside at all, but seeing her with Brax, laughing, talking quietly, having a drink so casually… Then she swayed on her feet and everything around me disappeared. I was at her side before Brax could touch her, before anyone could alert Hale.
I hadn’t planned to tell her that I’d moved out to the shell cottage, or about my grandfather’s little trysts, but the more I talked to her, the longer I was with her, the more I wanted to lead her out through the garden and into the wild grass, away from the party, the whispers, the covert stares.
I wanted to stay with the one person, the first person I’d found in all these months who eased the chaos inside me.
I knew what my mother was hoping for by having this dinner, but I wasn’t interested in putting on the Glitterati charm, pretending the whole time that I didn’t want to take a hundred swings at Hale and a hundred more at Brax.
And I knew that wasn’t fair. Brax hadn’t done anything wrong. The car needed a driver when I couldn’t do it, and Brax was next in line. He did his job. But he shouldn’t have had to do it. He shouldn’t have had to stand in for me and because he did, I wanted to slug him.
None of it made any sense. Not to me and I knew no one else would understand it, either. My anger was all over the place and it was an unsettling way to exist.
Still… I didn’t care.
