Caught in the Flames (38 page)

“Ashley!”

His chest heaves with short breaths and his gaze snaps to mine. I step close, timid and steady. Not because I’m scared he’ll hurt me—something inside knows this man would never do so. But he’s obviously really upset and I’d hate to see him lose his job over this outburst. Over me. More like over my defense. I reach out to touch his arm and he stills.

He exhales and his muscles loosen just slightly. “I won’t wait in the space between you and him. And I won’t stand by and watch him tear you apart all over again. You can’t go back to him. Tell me you won’t.” His words dig at the cracks in my armor.

“I don’t know,” I admit.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I don’t know, okay? What we had . . . I loved him, Ash.” He cringes at my words and steps out of my reach.

“Loved. As in past tense.” It’s a statement but the way the words tumble from his lips reveals the question within. I tilt my head and study his face. Our eyes lock and I feel an honesty, a connection between us that I’ve never considered before.

“It’s not so easy to erase those feelings simply because I want to. You don’t understand.” There aren’t words to explain.

His Adam’s apple works a few times and he swallows before he finally answers. “I understand better than you think.” He stares a long moment. His eyes, it’s as if they’re begging for something but I don’t know what. “Me or him, Callie.”

I shake my head. “Don’t make me choose. Why do I have to pick?” Ash is my best friend. But Chase? Chase is the man I dreamed I’d marry.

“If you go back to him, I can’t . . . No, I won’t watch and pretend I’m okay with it.” He laughs humorlessly and his eyes convey disappointment. “You don’t get it.”

I shake my head because I really don’t. I know Ash doesn’t want to see me hurt again, that he’s protective, but I’m an adult, my own woman. He can’t tell me who I can and can’t date. “What don’t I get? Explain it to me.”

A top forty song fills the room. The muted conversation down the hall is an inaudible backdrop to the glare Ash throws my way. He steps forward and I hold my stance, not willing to back down from him, no matter how intimidating he is in this moment.

“Okay, Callie.” His voice is low, soft, melted chocolate sauce. “I can’t be your friend if you go back to Chase because I will lose my job.”

“How will you lose your job?” Now I’m really confused. He steps forward again and leaves only a few inches between us. I lift my chin to meet his stare. His hands skim up my arms and stop at my shoulders. His fingers dig into my skin, rub over my tense muscles. I have to bite my lip to hold back the moan. God, that feels amazing.

“Because just thinking about you being with that d-bag has me wanting to punch that fucking smirk off his cocky pretty boy face. And he’s my boss. And I’m already on probation.”

“But the last time was different, Ash. That was your fiancée. And your best friend. You don’t have to go to bat for me.” His hands still and he steps away.

“You think that’s why I want to hurt him? In your defense? God, I wish I were so noble!” He heaves a breath, takes his cap off with one hand and runs the other over his head. His arms drop and his eyes almost burn, their reflection is so intense. “I want to hurt him because of me. Because I can’t stand the thought of him with you.”
What the—

“Fuck, the thought of anyone else with you drives me insane! But you don’t feel the same. It’s all over your beautiful face.”

I blink rapidly and attempt to wrap my mind around his words, to process what he just gave me. But if he— “Ash, what are you saying?”

“If you don’t know, it doesn’t matter.” He slaps his hat back on his head and nods at the door. “Come on, I need to drop you back to Kiki’s.”

“Ash—”

“Not now. Let’s go.” He turns and walks out the door without a backward glance. I don’t know what to think, but I don’t want to be left here. I grab my purse from the corner of the room and jog to catch up.

I hate silent treatment.

Ash pulls his Prius alongside the curb at Kiki’s and shoves the gear in park. He hasn’t said a word. Hasn’t looked at me. Nothing, nada, and the short ride from the station to Kiki’s seemed miles longer than it actually is. I’m waiting him out, attempting to respect his wish to not hash this out right now. But my stomach twists with fear because I can’t imagine a life where I don’t have Ash’s friendship.

“Did you want to get lunch? Or come in?” I break the silence with the hope he’s ready to talk.

Eyes trained on the road, he shakes his head. “No. I’m going to drive up and visit my dad tonight. I’ll just grab something on the way.”

“Oh. Okay.” He never mentioned he was leaving. Shit. He doesn’t even want to be near me right now. “When will you be back?”

“Maybe tomorrow, maybe Monday morning, I’m not sure.” His words are clipped and he still won’t meet my gaze.

I open my mouth to ask another question.

“Look, I really need to get going.” His thumb taps at the wheel. “Thanks for your help today.”

So, basically he’s kicking me out of his car.
That’s cool
. I’m trying to be patient but my feelings are hurt. He’s never this closed off. In fact, Ash is always so open and honest, and the fact he isn’t acting himself hurts more than him needing to leave. I open the door and step outside. Even though I’m frustrated that he’s doesn’t want to talk, I don’t want him to leave with any animosity.

“Okay. Have a safe trip. I’ll talk to you soon?” I duck my head into the car and finally Ash lifts his chin. His eyes show a fracture in the stone wall of his emotions. A chill works its way up my spine, and I’m not sure if it’s from the gust of wind outside or Ash.

“Yep. I really need to get going.” His voice is rough and low, his eyes almost plead with mine.
Well, fine
. I slam his door shut and turn on my heel to march up Kiki’s drive. I don’t look back. I don’t even know if he’s driven off because his fucking car doesn’t have an exhaust! I slide my key into the front door lock and swing it open to step inside. What the—?

An old sheet covers the coffee table and atop it dries about a dozen wet painted canvases. They’re all about the size that’d fit in a small picture frame. Music blares from the kitchen and Kiki’s voice croons along with Elvis. I’ve never seen her paint before. I’m curious what she’s up to as well as what sparked her creativity.

Dropping my purse inside the kitchen, I appraise her while she works. She doesn’t see me and sings along, hips swinging, paint brush in hand as she adds color to the pretty blooming pink flower attached to the easel. Holy—!

“Kiki . . .” I step closer and her head snaps up.

“Callie, dear! Look at me go!” she shouts over the music with a giant grin. She scoots over and turns the radio down so we can speak plainly.

“Are you drinking?” I say, my eyes transfixed on the painting.

“It’s the weekend. You know I am.” She cackles. “What do you think?” She steps to my side and takes my arm, dragging me up close and personal with her artwork. Her
very erotic
artwork.

“It’s beautiful. But, Kiki, that looks like a—er—a . . .”

“Vagina. Yes, dear. But don’t you love how I disguised it as a flower?”

Disguised?
Maybe to a child. I can’t help but let loose a giggle. “You’re clever. What are these for?”

“Oh I signed up for a booth at the holiday bazaar next weekend.”

“You’re planning to sell these!” I point where another five dry on the table.

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I? Besides, what do I need with a whole collection of pussy?”

That’s it. I lose it. Laughter spills from my lips, slowly at first and then to the point I have to pull out a chair and sit down because I can’t stop. Kiki glances down at me, hands on hips, with a deep scowl across her features.

“Now, what exactly is so damn funny?”

“I’m so—” I can’t even get words out. Giggles fill the room and tears leak from the corners of my eyes. Kiki’s lips twitch. “It’s just—” Oh. My. God. I can’t even. I just picture her sitting in her booth of painted porn amongst knitted doilies, wooden children’s toys, and hand crafted Christmas decor.
’Tis the season
.

I wipe the tears from my face and compose myself with a deep inhalation. “God, I love you, Kiki.” I smile and she pats my face.

“I love you, too, dear. Now . . .” She pulls out the chair to my right and takes a seat. “How did today go?” Her eyes are all knowing and I almost wonder if she’s acquired an insane sixth sense or installed hidden cameras at the station. I wouldn’t put either past her.

“Not good.” I shake my head. “Chase wants me to give him another chance.”

“Of course he does. He’s realized what an idiot he was to ever let you go.”

“Yeah, and Ash interrupted our conversation and went all caveman protector, which I appreciated, but now he’s pissed off at me for considering a redo with Chase.”

“I’m sure he is!” Kiki exclaims.

“It’s not his decision, though. I get that he wants to keep me from getting hurt again, but that’s my choice.”

Kiki takes my hand and pins me with a look of disappointment. She accentuates her opinion by a slow shake of her head.

“What? Just say it. I know you want to.”

“Our boy Ashley is in love with you.”

What? No.
I shake my head vehemently and my curls escape from my hair tie. The paint fumes have gone to Kiki’s head. Ash likes me, or at least he did before this afternoon, but there’s no way he loves me, not in the way she implies. “I don’t think so.”

“You’re more foolish than I thought.” She raises her brows with a pointed stare. “That boy doesn’t love yard work any more than my late husband did.”

“I don’t know about that.” And I don’t. Ash has a kind heart. It’s why he came back even after I was snarky; it’s why he’s been so good to Kiki; why he’s been so generous to me. And we understand each other. It’s a strong friendship and I get how she’s interpreted our relationship to be more. I’m sure it appears that way, but Ash isn’t in love with me.

“You should consider it though. Love doesn’t have to be an explosion of attraction, most times it’s like a snake in the lawn, sneaking through the tall grass and you don’t even realize it’s there until you’ve stepped on the damn thing and it’s bitten you good.”

“Kiki, you are such a romantic,” I deadpan and she chuckles.

“Real love isn’t always sunshine and flowers. It’s hard work, digging, hoeing, removing all the weeds and laying down new soil so the seed you’ve planted will bloom after the winter freeze. It’s work, but really, isn’t everything worth having?” I find myself nodding because, yes, I see her point. I’m not quite sure it applies to Ash’s feelings for me. “Now. I must finish this flower while it’s still wet.”

“Because no one likes a dry pussy.” I can’t help myself and Kiki laughs her throaty chuckle, picks up the brush and gets back to work. I turn her music back up and fill a mug of coffee before heading down to the basement.

I grab my purse and jog down the steps. I’m really happy Kiki is painting again. She never mentioned why she stopped, but I can’t help but feel maybe I had a little something to do with bringing back her joy when I agreed to help clean up her yard. Sitting down on the floor I savor a few sips of my java and pull my phone from my bag. I almost choke when I see the message waiting for me.

Ex-Boyfriend Don’t Pick Up: Hey, Callie. Have you thought about what we talked about?

Thanking my past self for having the mindfulness to reprogram Chase’s contact name in my phone, I take a deep breath. I did that because he hurt me badly. And he made me weak. And I was worried I couldn’t hold my own around him. The person I was back when I did that and all those feelings of betrayal come back in a rush.

Fuck that! I’m not her anymore. And I need Chase to know that. He needs to know exactly what he did. And I need answers. Every time I try to move forward I can’t because we never had a real breakup. No argument. No big fight. I need to know why he did what he did. I need to hear him say the words. I need him to own it.

I don’t overthink and type out a reply.

Me: Hi. Yes, I’d like to talk. How’s tomorrow morning?

Ex-Boyfriend Don’t Pick Up: Great, meet at ten for coffee?

Oh, hell no
! He’s not fucking up coffee. There’s no way I’d ever let him screw that up for me. Imagine the sort of intervention Ash would have to stage to bring me back from that? Chills run along my spine as I do just that. Shit. My body and mind are completely confused when it comes to Ash. He and I need to talk when he gets back, that much is clear. In the meantime, I need to find some sort of resolution with Chase. I’m not in love with him, but I did love him, and I want to hear what he has to say. I’m not sure I’d give us another shot, but if we don’t talk now I’m afraid it’ll be one of those things I second guess, that I’d always wonder “what if.” I’m done living with regret.

Me: That smoothie shop off Greenland Ave? Ten is good.

Ex-Boyfriend Don’t Pick Up: I’m looking forward to it.

I don’t reply to that and instead shoot a message to Jill asking if she’s free for an impromptu dinner. When she doesn’t message back right away I pull out my computer and check my email. A message from my contractor catches my attention.