My brow quirks, but I head to the table, letting her take the lead, but I’m not sure she knows where to go from here. The truth is, neither do I. As I pull out the chair, the legs scrape against the laminate floor, sounding like rumble strips on the highway in the otherwise silent room.
I wait, suffocating in Ash’s presence. I want to kiss her. I want to ask if we’re okay. If she’s upset I kissed her. If she spoke with Mia. If she’s talked to Logan. I want to ask her a lot of things, but I stay quiet, forcing myself to let her take the lead even if it kills me.
“Can I, uh, get you anything to drink?” she offers.
“I’m good, thanks.”
“Okay.” She rocks back on her heels. “Are you hungry or anything?”
“Just ate.”
“Got it.”
“You gonna take a seat, Ash?” I challenge, turning in my chair to face her fully. “You’re making me nervous.”
She looks like a scared little mouse. One who will scurry off in the opposite direction if I’m not careful. I’ve never seen her this nervous. It’s adorable as shit. And surprisingly, it gives me hope.
“Oh. Sorry. Of course.” She sits across from me and folds her arms.
“You sure everything’s good?”
“Yup. Everything’s…great.”
“You talk to Logan?” I prod.
She shakes her head, her anxiety dimming into sadness. “No. I haven’t seen him since before I showed up on your doorstep the other day.”
“Neither have I,” I return. “I think he knows I wanna beat the shit out of him.”
Her gaze flicks to mine as she registers my comment. The makeup around her eyes is darker today. More pronounced. Her lips are a shade darker, too, like she’s wearing lipstick or lipgloss or…something. I scan her up and down. Actually, she looks more put together than I’ve seen in a long time, but effortlessly so. Like she wants to look like she woke up that way, but it’s an illusion. One I could die in if she’d let me.
Fucking beautiful.
If only I knew what was going through her pretty little head.
“Why do you want to beat the shit out of Logan?” she asks when she catches me staring.
Jealousy floods my system as his name rolls off her tongue, and I shift in my chair, resting my elbows on the dark oak table. “Because he hurt you.”
She nods, not bothering to deny it.
“But I kind of want to buy him dinner too,” I add.
She tilts her head to one side, surprised. “Why?”
“Because he was too much of a dumbass to see what he was leaving behind.”
Her tinted lips lift into a smile. “I think that’s up for debate. But thank you.”
Not up for debate, I want to argue, but instead, I ask, “Did you talk to Mia too?”
She nods.
“And?”
“And she’s on my list for not telling me about Shorty’s advances,” Ash replies. “But she did corroborate your story.”
My heart pounds a little harder. “Yeah?”