One Tiny Lie

“I’m sure you’ll feel better tomorrow.” He takes another sip of his beer as his head tilts to the side to get a better angle of my legs. I just shake my head. I know I shouldn’t take anything Co

I don’t know if it’s because I saw my future life when I met his parents or because of Ashton or because I cried the entire way home from the hospital as my dreams vanished, but I feel like a fog has lifted and I’m thinking straight for the first time. Co

No . . . the guy I grew up picturing in my head is definitely Co

Ty bursts into the kitchen in his kilt then, causing a commotion, one I’m glad for because it forces Co

The place erupts in an uproar of cheers as Sun blushes. Despite my mood, I can’t help but giggle because it’s sweet, in a mortifying way. Then Co

“Can you believe they’re hooking up? What an odd match.” I recoil, but he doesn’t notice. “But he said she’s a minx in the sack.” What? Who is this guy? I don’t like drunk Co

I’m starting to regret that I ever came. My plan of drowning my sorrows in alcohol is quickly being replaced with my plan to simply get the hell away from Co

“I don’t know . . . around.” Beer dribbles out of Co

I try not to flinch at his words but I can’t help it. Just the thought of Ashton doing to anyone else what he did for me makes me cold inside. I hope Co

Turns out I don’t need to worry about Co

I don’t think any amount of tequila will make this feel good.

“I need to use the bathroom,” I mumble, squirming out from between him and the wall and dashing out of the kitchen. I can’t be here anymore. I can’t be near Co

I need Ashton.

I pull my phone out and send him a quick text. Not waiting for a response, I start searching from room to room, skillfully avoiding Co

Ashton is here.

That means he must be in his room.

And he’s not answering his texts.

So much for not feeling anything tonight. The dread is back and has increased tenfold, churning in my stomach like a deadly whirlpool of jealousy and hurt and desperation.

I have only two choices—leave and assume that he’s upstairs with someone or go upstairs and find out.

With my arms hugging my chest tightly, I climb the stairs, each step bringing me closer to either the pi

Why am I doing this to myself? Because you’re a masochist.

I see his door up ahead, closed. There’s no red sock or any other indication that someone might be in there.

Still . . .

I don’t even need to consciously hold my breath because I’ve stopped breathing altogether as I put my ear to the door. The softest music is playing, so he’s in there, but otherwise . . . silence. No moans or groans or female voices.

Before I can chicken out, I knock lightly.

No answer.

Swallowing, I knock again.

No answer.

I reach down to gently test the doorknob, to find it unlocked.

This is the weirdest feeling I’ve ever had—blood rushes in my ears as my heart pounds viciously and yet my lungs are still. I know it can’t go on forever. I know I’ll get dizzy and pass out soon if I don’t make a choice.

I have to make a choice. I can turn and leave now—leave this house because I can’t deal with Co

Or I can open the door and risk seeing him with someone else.

I open the door.

A freshly showered Ashton sits on the edge of his bed in a towel, staring at the floor while one hand fumbles with the belt band. He holds a glass with amber liquid in it.

If I were any more relieved right now, I’d dissolve to the floor. “Hey.” I say it as softly as I can, as the gravitational pull toward him takes over.

“Close the door. And lock it. Please. I don’t want to see anyone tonight.” His voice is low and hollow-sounding. He hasn’t even looked up. I don’t know what this mood is. I’ve never seen it before.

I follow his instruction, locking out the house of people, the party, Co

And then I step closer, slowly, tentatively. Not until I’m three feet away do his dark eyes lift, sca

“Why aren’t you downstairs?”

He swishes the liquid around in his glass. “I had a shitty day.”

“Me too.”

Downing the last of his drink, Ashton places the glass on his nightstand. “Do you want me to help you forget?” A stir in my thighs instantly confirms that my body definitely would appreciate that. Brown eyes finally find their way to my face, no hint of amusement in them. Nothing but resigned sadness and a touch of glassiness. “I’m good at that, aren’t I.” There’s a meaning behind those words that I can’t fully comprehend.

“I know that picture came from you.”

He bows his head.

Now that I’m standing here in front of Ashton, the confusion I’ve been battling for weeks melts away. For the first time in longer than I can remember, I know exactly what I want. And I have no doubt in my mind that it’s right. “I’m going to give you something today, too.” I push aside the swirl of butterflies in my stomach, committing fully to what I’m about to do, to what I’m about to give him if he’ll take it as I slip out of my heels. I don’t know if it’s easier or harder with him not watching me, but I undo the four buttons Reagan left me and let the fitted blouse drop to the floor. My fingers make quick work of the buttons on my skirt and let that fall as well.