Page 4 of Ash
Stevie points her knife at him. “Back it up, Johnson, your smooth talking will not get you the first piece.”
It’s now that Ash notices me. I see a momentary look of panic on his face, as if I’m a zombie or an ex-wife. But as fast as the panic appears, it leaves and is replaced with his signature confident and flirty smirk. “Well, hello. And you might be?”
Oh no, I’m going to have to kill him. I look around the room. All the women here know that Ash Johnson and I had a one-night stand years ago. I told Ren last Thanksgiving when he pulled this exact move then. And I’m sure since the women know, the guys do too.
Embarrassment rises up my chest and neck to my face. He really is going to playthiscard? Okay, fine. If I’m going down, I’m taking his ass with me.
“Oh, we’ve met, Dash,” I state, crossing my arms over my chest. “We had that really nice date a couple years ago with the taco trucks, then we went back to my place to have sex. I think you got… oh, I don’t know. Was it one pump in before you blew your load? Then you apologized a hundred times, left money on my dresser, and ran out. I am surprised you don’t remember me.”
The room is deathly silent. Ash’s face is ghost white and his jaw slack. I raise a brow in challenge.Your move, fucker.
He closes his mouth and I see his jaw work as his obsidian eyes burn into me before looking away. “So what flavor is that cake?” Did he? He just blew me off!
I look over at Janie, who has an equally shocked expression. I shake my head and stand up, no longer in the celebratory mood.
Chapter2
Ash
“You look like shit.” My little–in every sense of the word–sister, Indy, says from her spot on the couch once I enter our apartment.
“Are you eating cheese puffs with your toes?” I ask in disgust. Indy shrugs her slim shoulders.
“Dude, the puff dust was caking my fingers and getting all over my hooks and yarn, plus it’s like a new type of mobility exercise I invented, plus it’s not like my feet aren’t cleaner than my hands, I washed them first.” I watch in shock and horror as she reaches her toes into the bowl, pulls out a puff and puts it into her fucking mouth.
“You are foul. This right here,” I say, motioning to her sprawled out with cheese dust covered toes. “This is why you will never get a man.”
“Negative, bro, that is because my giant brother won’t let anything with a penis within twelve feet of me.”
“Well, what do you need a dick for–no! I forbid you to answer that! My blood pressure is high enough.” I sigh as I remove my shoes. Tonight has been a disaster. First, my hookup catfished the fuck out of me. And while I’m not one with a real type, when a woman in her sixties shows up and you were expecting someone else, and then you find out she’s been using her daughter’s photos, you kind of lose interest. Then I go back to Hel’s to grab my stuff I had left there before the date, and I find everyone having a party that I had known nothing about. And if that wasn’t awkward enough to walk in on, fucking Sunday Sutton was there and outed my biggest embarrassment of all time to the entire fucking shop.
“Did someone reject you? Or did you hit on a married woman?” I roll my eyes at my sister, though they are valid questions. I’ve been striking out recently and it’s not like me. But lately I haven’t been looking for the same fast one-night stand shit. Lately, I’ve been reading profiles, looking at interests, and it scares the ever-loving fuck out of me. I mean, like a lot. Like, enough to think about never having sex again. Reading profiles, that’s not something I should be doing. I can’t look for anything but a good time. I can’t open myself up like that, not again.
“Sunday was at Hel’s,” I mumble while watching Indy wipe the cheese dust off her feet with a wet wipe.God, she’s a fucking weirdo.“They were having some party or something, I don’t know. I kind of walked in on it.”
“Sunday Sutton? Oh no, Ash… you did that thing again, didn’t you?” The disappointment in her voice raises my annoyance.
“I panicked!” I yell in defense as I storm towards my bedroom, in desperate need of a shower.
“She’s going to think you’re an idiot if you keep reintroducing yourself!” Her voice calls after me.
“Too late, she already does! And she made sure everyone at Hel’s thinks it too!” I call back before shutting my door and heading to my bathroom to shower.
Once I am safely inside the bathroom and the door is locked, I let out a long breath before gripping the edge of the cool sink. She must think I’m the dumbest son of a bitch in the state, and I can’t blame her.
Dash…Fucking damn it.
Walking over to the shower, I turn the water on before removing my clothes. I look at myself in the mirror and roll my eyes, disgusted with myself. How could I not be? I have, once again, fucked up in front of Sunday Sutton and come out looking like an asshole. I hate that every fucking time I see her, I turn into a moron. And this time, she made sure it wouldneverhappen again. Not that I blame her, but still, did she have to go for the jugular?
I can’t help it. After what happened that night, how am I supposed to look at her? I stare down at my cock in annoyance, feeling the familiar anger and shame wash over me. I got into her apartment and got one fucking pump in before…
Dash.
Shaking my head to rid myself of the embarrassment, I finish washing off before getting out of the shower. That night was one oftheworst nights of my life. It has been years and I’m still mortified, so much so I swore to never try dating again. Sunday was unfortunately my rebound from my ex-girlfriend who still, to this day, gives me more anxiety than I can handle. The physical and emotional abuse were rough. The beatings I took, but the way she talked down to me, like I was useless, unable to pleasure her, a charity case– “All boat and no motion.” It was so bad that I couldn’t even get it up for her because Iknewit wouldn’t be enough for her. That’s when she started cheating and shortly after that, we broke up. Once on my own, I was determined to feel like a man again. And in walked Miss Sunday Sutton with her lean body, honey-colored eyes, and the cutest fucking accent. Our date was probably the best date I had ever been on. I had never felt so excited or connected to someone. Then we kissed and I don’t know what happened, things moved so fast and before I knew it, I was trying to talk myself out of a panic attack and talking my fucking cock into getting hard and the moment I got that condom on, I lowered myself between her legs and I just… I came. And if that wasn’t bad enough; she started laughing while patting my shoulder and telling me it was okay. Nope. Never again.
Over the years, I’ve perfected my art of pleasing a woman, or my anxiety surrounding said art. I know how to get a woman naked and get what I need before telling her bye. I have rules now. No relationships, no rebounds, no names, no Sunday. But the damn ‘no Sunday’ thing keeps getting fucked up! She is everywhere now! She’s best friends with my best friends’ girls, so I keep seeing her at group events and now…nowshe is hanging out at the shop? My fucking dojo. Just coming in there, saying that shit about me.
Though, I did start it.I wince at the thought while drying myself off before wrapping a towel around my waist. I walk into my bedroom and see my phone lighting up on the bed. Peering over to see who it is, I let out a loud groan when I see it’s the Hel’s Girls.
