Page 4 of Haven

Something crosses her face.

A look that sets me on edge.

“Ashlyn ... Is your coach a bad guy?”

She doesn’t look at me when she answers, “He’s a tough coach.” After a second, she pulls away from me and stands. “We’ve really got to get going.”

“Ashlyn...” I stand and block her in. “I grew up in foster care. And not in those families you see on TV. My sister and I haven’t been that lucky. I know how to deal with bad guys. Is your coach a bad guy?” I ask her again.

I reach out and take her hand when she doesn’t answer me. “Ashlyn.” Alarm bells are going off so fucking loud they should wake the whole campus.

“You don’t understand, Brandon.”

Yeah. That’s what they say. That’s what theyalwayssay.

“Then make me understand. Because I’ve watched people get hurt before. Are you safe?”

“I can’t. Not yet.” She looks at me with watery eyes, then wraps her arms around my waist and leans her head against my chest. “Maybe someday.”

I know she’s lying when she says it.

There’s no someday for us.

Ten minutes later, Nina and Eric come downstairs and walk out the front door, but I tug Ashlyn back and wrap my hand around her neck, anchoring it in her thick hair. “Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Give me your phone. I want to put my number in there. If you need help. If you need anything, I want you to call me. I don’t care what time it is. I don’t care where you are. I want you to call. You got me?”

Her big eyes double in size as she pulls her phone out. “What’s your number, big guy?”

I give her my number and watch as she puts it in her phone, then pull mine out of my pocket when she texts me.

Ashlyn tucks her phone back into her tight jeans, then leans back against the wall behind her when I take another step closer.

It’s as if everything happens in slow motion.

I lean down as she presses up on her toes.

Our breath mixing together.

I leave one hand in her hair and cup her face with the other, my thumb brushing over her cheek as she sucks in a breath.

My mouth ghosts over hers, and I groan when she fists her hands in my shirt.

Her sweet taste explodes on my lips, and electricity arcs and soars between us. “There’s no maybe about it, Ashlyn. Go win the fucking gold, and when you come home, let me take you out to celebrate.”

“Was that a question?” She pulls at my shirt, and I lean against her, letting her feel how much I want her right now.

“Not really. Do you need it to be a question?”

She presses her lips against mine and whispers, “No.” Then she pulls back. “I’ve got to go.”

I drop my forehead to hers. “I know. Text me when you get home.”

“Okay.” She pushes me away and smiles.

“What are you smiling at, beautiful?”

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