Kiss My Ash Read online

  I tried to think back to that moment, but no matter how hard I tried to remember how it had all gone down, my mind raced at the speed of light and prevented me from recalling any detail of what had taken place over the last several weeks.

  “Regardless, Ash…that would’ve been a fantastic time to say, ‘Actually, Kristy, I’m only sixteen.’ But—”

  “Seventeen,” he corrected me, suddenly sounding a little angry himself.

  “Oh, because that makes such a big difference?”

  “Yes. It does. Why do you think I wanted to wait? Why do you think I’ve been so adamant not to touch you or kiss you?”

  “But telling me you want to fuck me is okay? That’s not immoral or wrong?”

  He dropped his chin again, but this time, instead of lifting his gaze to meet mine, he kept his sights on the floor while his posture deflated like a punctured lung. “I’m not denying that. I was wrong for allowing you to go on believing I was of age, and I did so while carrying on an inappropriate relationship with you.”

  “But why?”

  Finally, he pulled his shoulders back and locked his attention on me. “Because I want you. Plain and simple. I’m sure that’s not what you want to hear, but that’s the truth. I just hoped I could bide my time until my birthday, until it was no longer an issue.”

  I couldn’t believe I was about to ask this, but I couldn’t stop myself if I tried. “When’s your birthday?”

  “August ninth—five weeks from now.”

  “And you thought you could keep us from crossing lines for the next five weeks without me asking more questions or figuring it out?”

  His brow furrowed as he concentrated his stare on me. There was no way his emotion was fabricated or enhanced, yet that didn’t begin to make any of this okay. “To be honest with you, no. I hoped I could, but as of lately, I began to question how much longer I’d be able to hold off. Which is why the other day I suggested we limit ourselves to phone calls and texts.”

  He came closer, and no matter how loudly I screamed at myself to back away and not let him near me, I couldn’t move. I was frozen in place by his stare. By his presence. By the utter heartache in every step he took as he closed the distance between us.

  “I’m actually relieved that you found out. I don’t expect you to believe that, but it’s the truth. I no longer trust myself to do the right thing, and now I don’t have to worry about failing you. We can do this together—hold each other accountable for another month.”

  “Wait.” I held up one hand, which landed in the center of his chest, where it remained because I didn’t have the strength to pull it away. “You think you still have a chance with me? After all this? After all you’ve done, you seriously think I’ll let you in my bed? In my home? In my life?”

  “Yes, Kristy. I do.” There was not an ounce of question or doubt in his tone, his eyes, his expression, or his posture as he answered with his absolute truth. “Despite how you feel right now, your anger will fade, and when that happens, you’ll remember how great we are together. Because the day I turn eighteen…you won’t have any more excuses.”

  The room swayed, and I worried I’d go with it if it tipped too far. Then, something I hadn’t thought of yet smacked me in the face hard enough to cause my head to rear back. “Aren’t you still in school? In high school?”

  Ash nodded, but after licking his lips, he answered verbally. “Yes, I’m going into my senior year. My parents made me wait to start kindergarten because of how young I’d be, and they were told boys statistically do better when they are older at the start of school. So, my mom kept me home another year.”

  “Well…there’s my excuse, Ash. Eighteen or not, you’ll still be a student in high school, going to class with my daughter.” Just the thought of Emma had my throat closing, suffocating me like the reminder of her had been a boa constrictor around my neck. “You need to go.”

  “Not until you agree to give me a chance.”

  I shook my head and moved around him to the front door. Holding it open, I motioned for him to leave. “If Emma comes home and sees you here, or if anyone gets the wrong idea about what’s going on between us, you won’t be the one in the back of a cop car. It won’t be you who gets cuffed and interrogated. It’ll be me.”

  He came a little closer, yet he still didn’t make a move to walk out the door. “Kristy, we’re neighbors. Stop acting like someone will call the cops if we say hi to each other. We haven’t done anything wrong, so you have nothing to worry about. Not to mention, if anyone happens to question why I’m here, we tell them the truth. The more you act like there’s something to hide, the more suspicious we’ll look. We’re not guilty of anything. For fuck’s sake, we haven’t done anything.”

  “I’d rather not take the chance.”

  The heat and whirrs of life outside drifted in, reminding me that nothing had vanished—other than my sanity. My palms grew sweaty and my heart began to thump loudly, sounding far more like a judge’s gavel hitting the bench after a guilty verdict than an organ pumping blood through my veins. It was like my body’s way of foreshadowing what was to come in the near future.

  “Fine.” He finally relented and stood half inside and half out, preventing me from closing the door until he finished saying what he had on his mind. “But I’m not giving up, Kris. I won’t do it. You’ve already got me anchored to you—hook, line, and sinker. I’ll leave now, but in five weeks, good luck getting rid of me.”

  Once he completely stepped outside, I closed the door and leaned against it, releasing every ounce of air in my lungs until my entire body felt weightless and ready to collapse.

  I’d focused too much on making sure Emma didn’t cave to the pressures of high school boys, yet I never stopped to contemplate any other problem that could arise—such as her mother caving to the pressures of high school boys.

  Yeah, because every parent should have that on their list of what-ifs.

  Chapter Six

  Asher

  I’d spent most of the last two and a half years alone in my garage, and it had never bothered me.

  Until now.

  It’d been exactly two weeks since Fourth of July—since Kristy discovered my age, turned her back on me, and shut me out. Fourteen days spent alone. Well, technically thirteen if I took into account the day Emma had come over to hang out after she learned we were neighbors. But other than that, it was just me and my furniture.

  On the bright side, I’d been able to get Kristy’s kitchen island finished. Now that I didn’t have to prolong it until my birthday, there was no need to hold onto it. All it did was remind me of her, of the deal we’d made and the promises I still planned to fulfill.

  My latest plan to make her talk was to deliver the table, knowing she wouldn’t be able to get it inside herself, which meant she’d need my help. That would at least get me in the door. What happened after that was up to me—it was a good thing I had a lot of determination where Kristy was concerned.

  Even though the sun had started to set, by the time I finished wheeling the dolly through the grass between our driveways, I had perspiration lining my brow and the back of my neck. I parked the cabinet in front of the garage and jogged to her front door. After knocking, I retreated down the steps and waited…there was no way I’d be able to stand that close to her and maintain a respectable distance.

  She opened the door and froze. The only part of her that continued to move were her eyes as she slowly raked them up and down my body. It was enough to assure me that her avoidance had nothing to do with my physical appearance. Just my age.

  Although, once she shook off her initial reaction, her expression soured. It was a visual depiction of her thoughts, that she wished she hadn’t answered the door—which might’ve had something to do with the fact that I had the bottom of my shirt pulled up to wipe my forehead, exposing my abs.

  I nudged my head to the left, gesturing to the piece of furniture I had waiting for her that she couldn’t see. “I
have the island for your kitchen. I think it’ll be best to bring it around the back. I don’t really want to attempt getting it up these steps, and it won’t fit through the laundry room.”

  She held her mouth agape and scanned the street, as though she were looking for someone, not looking out for anyone. When her eyes found mine again, I couldn’t turn away from the dull jade, heavy with confusion. I’d never seen them that color before, and I never wanted to again. The sight alone left me angry—though I only had myself to be upset with.

  This was my fault.

  And I still had three more weeks before I could do anything about it.

  “Ash…I can’t accept that island from you.”

  It took a moment to comprehend what she’d said, and once I did, it took everything in me to stay where I was, not go to her, and not lose my temper. “Why not? I told you I’d make it, and I did. It’s done, just waiting for you to let me in so I can set it up.”

  “No, it’s not right. I can’t afford it, and there’s no way in hell I’m taking it for free. Sell it. Put it on one of those online marketplaces. Or let that guy put it in his shop. At least get something for it.”

  “Not happening. It’s yours. I made it for you. Not to sell it to someone else.” I took a step closer, fighting the desire to touch her the way I used to.

  Her lids closed, and she took a deep breath. It should’ve been enough to prepare me for what she would say next, but it didn’t come close. “I don’t have the money, Ash. And I don’t feel right taking it from you. I’m sorry, but I just can’t accept it.”

  With my eyes locked on hers, I slowly made my way up the steps until I stood in front of her, less than a foot separating us. I probably should’ve been more careful of where we were or who could’ve seen us, but in that moment, I didn’t care…and it didn’t seem like she did, either. I held the side of her face, surprised when she didn’t push me away, and swiped my thumb along her soft, milky cheek. “I don’t want your money, Kristy.”

  She opened and closed her mouth a few times without making a single sound, her gaze never falling from mine. But before she could pull herself together enough to form words, tires squealed on the driveway, breaking us apart in an instant.

  I stood aside enough to see Emma’s car. When she climbed out of the driver’s side, she was too busy studying the furniture in front of the garage to even notice me on the porch, let alone that I was there with her mom. Had I known that, I wouldn’t have been so quick to jump away.

  Kristy slid around me, filling the air with her floral fragrance that I couldn’t get enough of. And as if I hadn’t just rattled her by standing in her personal space, she smiled and greeted her daughter. “Hey, Emma. I thought you would’ve been here by now.”

  I casually moved down the steps with my hands in my pockets. It was about the only way I could guarantee I wouldn’t try to touch Kristy again. “Hey, Em. Making Wednesday visits now?”

  She stilled for a moment, more than likely surprised to see me, but she quickly shook it off. “Yeah, it’s Dad and Jenny’s anniversary, and my sister is at her grandparents’ house. So my Mom was kind enough to invite me over for dinner. She didn’t want me to be alone.”

  “Thomas busy or something?” I figured if I kept up the small talk, she wouldn’t question my presence too much. “And Tori?”

  “Thomas is working, and Tor met some new guy.” Emma cocked her head to the side and narrowed her gaze. “You here for dinner, too?”

  “No, he was—”

  “Nah,” I said, cutting off Kristy’s response. “I made that for your kitchen and just finished it. Your mom was just about to open the back door so I can wheel it in and get it all set up for you guys.”

  Kristy wasn’t too happy with being put on the spot—or the wink I tossed her way.

  Emma moved closer to the cabinet and studied it. “Wow, that’s fancy. I didn’t know you had him make a new one. This is going to look amazing.” She turned to Kristy, then smiled at me. “I have to go inside anyway, so I’ll get the door. That way, Mom can give you a hand if you need it.”

  Kristy took a breath and opened her mouth to protest, yet Emma didn’t give her a chance to say anything before she was gone. That was when she pinned me with her glare, her top lip curled with intense irritation.

  “Yeah, babe…I might need a hand.” There was no way she missed that insinuation, evident by the rolling eyes and exaggerated huff directed at me. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick.”

  “That’s enough, Ash. And stop calling me babe. It’s not appropriate.”

  Keeping my opinion to myself, I tugged on the cart to get the wheels to move, and then switched to the back end to push it through the grass. The entire time I hauled it around the side yard, Kristy stayed behind me, not saying a word though making her presence known by her heavy stomps and frustrated sighs.

  Emma already had the French doors wide open by the time we rounded the corner to the back of the house, making it easy to continue the forward motion. The only part that took a little extra effort was getting the thick wheels over the threshold without jostling the table.

  “Mom, you made enough spaghetti to feed an army. Who all were you expecting to be here? I mean, you did know that Dad and Jenny were going out to eat, right? As in…not coming here?”

  “Yes, Emma. I’m fully aware of how much food we have. It was a box of noodles, a jar of sauce, and a pound of meat. That just means I’ll have leftovers to last until next week.” Apparently, Kristy had lost her patience with everyone tonight.

  “Have you had dinner yet, Ash?” At Emma’s question, I smiled while Kristy groaned.

  “No, I haven’t. I’ve spent all day getting this ready, which means I skipped lunch, so I’m starving.”

  Kristy ignored me while she rolled the old butcher’s cart out of the way. The entire time we maneuvered around the kitchen, she avoided eye contact and only spoke when she needed to say something. There was a good chance I’d pushed too far, but I couldn’t turn back now—not that I wanted to. I’d spent two weeks trying to get her attention, and now that I had a chance to be in her space, right in front of her, I refused to give that up.

  “Good, then you can help eat some of this.” Emma certainly seemed proud of herself. “You’re a big guy, so I’m assuming you can really pack it in.”

  Kristy arched one brow and pointed a warning stare at her oblivious daughter. “I was planning on saving the extras so I wouldn’t have to cook for the rest of the week.”

  Emma waved her off and grabbed three plates out of the cabinet. “Who are you fooling, Mom? You hate leftovers. How many times have I had to dump containers of food because you put it in the fridge and then never touched it again?”

  Normally, this would be the time when I’d say something like, “It’s not a big deal; I can just find something at my house,” but instead, I took the plate Emma offered and thanked her. When I peered over my shoulder at Kristy, expecting to see irritation or anger riddling her expression, I was surprised to find a sheen of tears lining her despondent eyes as she attempted to unload the pots and pans beneath the old cart.

  I set my plate on the counter and went to her, hating how bad things had gotten between us. Lightly holding her arm to make her stop what she was doing, I whispered, “Don’t worry about that right now. We can move all this over after dinner.”

  Even though she refused to meet my gaze, she did as I asked and stopped removing the pans from the bottom. After discreetly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she followed me to the cooktop where we all filled our plates.

  I had given myself more than I normally would’ve eaten, but I figured that would give me more time at the table with Kristy. It was a great idea in theory. In reality, it was equivalent to torture.

  If it weren’t for Emma, we all would’ve eaten in silence. And to be honest, half the time, I wished we had. She entertained us with her summer adventures, and having Thomas in common helped. However, anytime she bro
ught up school—or anything remotely close to the subject—Kristy visibly shuttered and withdrew entirely. It was more than I could handle, and it gutted me that I couldn’t do anything about it other than redirect the conversation. And there were only so many times I could effectively do that.

  After dinner, Emma excused herself to the bathroom. I had to act fast and utilize this borrowed time to my advantage.

  I took my plate to the sink and slid next to Kristy, hovering just behind her shoulder. “Kristy…please talk to me.” It was as low as I could talk without it being a whisper, which did nothing but amplify the agony in my tone.

  She turned her head to speak without risking Emma overhearing. “This is not the time nor place for that, Ash. And I don’t think you should be calling me by my first name.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

  She shrugged, yet she didn’t stop washing the already spotless plate in her hand to look at me. “I don’t know…it’s just wrong.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says the law.” Then she leaned closer and whispered, “You’re a minor.”

  I settled my hand on her lower back, feeling her body tense as I dipped my face closer to hers. “I think it’s safe to say that referring to you by your first name isn’t illegal. Impolite, maybe. But it’s certainly not against the law.” Lowering my voice to nothing more than a growly murmur, I added, “Unless I’m buried nine and a half inches inside you while using it…though at that point, I doubt the issue would be what name I call you.”

  She stopped moving altogether, and from the looks of it, had stopped breathing, too. Without something to go on, I had no idea if her reaction was good or bad, if I’d pushed too hard or just enough. And since I didn’t know that, I had no clue where to go from here. The only thing I could do was step away a few feet and hit the reset button.