Page 52 of All That Glitters
When he slowed, then stopped, he laid his cheek on my chest.
“Ash?”
“It had been so long… I hadn’t been able to… It fucking hurt it felt so good.” His voice was soft, but when he lifted his head and looked down at me, the distance was back in his eyes, the coldness. I tried not to let it affect me, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t, even if I understood he couldn’t handle being vulnerable all the time, or even most of the time.
I wasn’t surprised that the shield had come down again.
But it was still hard to see, so I did the only thing I could. I turned my head away. Ashton took it as a sign to get off me, to help me up, to cover his body again.
I righted my shirt and closed myself off as best I could. When my eyes met his, he seemed to approve, if the slight nod was any indication.
“What was it you said back at the garage? This isn’t personal?”
Had I said that? Yeah. I had. But it had been in the heat of the moment, an argument with him, but he caught me with my guard down. It had happened more than once starting when Hale and I had arrived at the Glitterati estate earlier.
“And you said that it was.”
“I did. It is. For me. Don’t make it personal for yourself, Helen.”
“How am I supposed to keep that from happening, Ashton? It already is…”
“It’s a means to an end. It’s me using you and you using me. That’s all it is.”
“Me using you?” Was that right? Was I using him, too? “Get out of my room.”
“I wish you meant that. I wish you wanted me to go.”
“I do.”
“No you don’t. You want me to stay, to crawl into that bed with you, and fuck all your desires to life.”
“Crude.”
“You don’t really believe that. You’re too easy to read, Helen of Troye. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”
“Maybe we should agree to a different day.”
“No. Tomorrow. That should give you plenty of time to get yourself put back together and this one time, I’ll save you the trouble of having to explain my presence in your room to Hale.”
“What do you mean by that?”
He only smiled as he slipped his shirt on over his head and out the bedroom door. I stared out the window and watched him exit the front stoop and make his way around the side of the house with the walkway that led down to the beach. He never looked back.
I turned the alarm back on with shaking fingers, flipped the lock on my door, then climbed between the blankets and settled into the bed, my body low-key humming, already missing him, already anticipating him.
Wanting him. Hating him.
Fuck.
12
Ashton
“You know, the car won’t move, no matter how long you stare at it.”
“Fuck you, Brax.”
“No thanks.”
