Shopping had been therapeutic that morning, and now that things were… as normal as possible between Ash and me, I wasn’t really sure how to act.
Everyone was going over to Nixon’s for the Friendsmas get together; I was nervous in my own house let alone another.
Was it because of the way Ash was suddenly looking at me? It was as if he’d finally climbed the ginormous wall he’d put between us and decided he liked things better on the other side.
I knew how to treat Ash when he was cruel.
What I didn’t know how to do, was handle him when he was nice, sweet, when he smiled, or when he reached for my hand.
I was suddenly in way over my head. I almost preferred the mean because at least then, my heart wasn’t in any danger of falling all over itself. Already, I’d been half in love with him even while I hated him.
Now?
Now?
I wanted to slap myself across the face and then give myself a shake for good measure. It was Ash.
Ash!
He still had so much to work through, and after last night, I knew we were friends, but that was it.
So what if I woke up in his arms a few times last night and just stared? Or if today I couldn’t stop thinking about the warmth of his body as our legs intertwined on the leather?
I cleared my throat and reached for another plate as I helped Izzy set one of the three tables. Since everyone was here, all the bosses, all the wives, kids, and some associates, we had close to seventy people in the house, and as much as I loved the noise, the laughter, I found myself constantly wanting to draw into myself because I wasn’t a part of this.
And I would have killed to be.
I mean, I was there.
Present.
But this wasn’t my future.
And I didn’t want to be one of those people who whined about where they were or where they were going. I just—felt sad.
And sometimes, it was okay to grieve what you wished you had while still having hope for a future that might one day look similar.
“Annie?” Luc, with her jet black cropped hair and crystal blue eyes, put a hand on my shoulder. “Can you go let Ash know that dinner’s almost ready at Nixon’s and we’re all riding together?”
It would be the first time I saw him since we were all out shopping. Why was I freaking out over something so stupid?
“Sure.” I licked my lips and then ran back up to my room to grab the present I’d gotten for him. Granted, I’d gotten it using his dad’s money, but still, after last night, I figured Chase would be one hundred percent okay with my choice.
In all honesty, he probably wouldn’t even see the small amount I spent compared to the near billions they had.
With the little white bag secure, I made my way down the stairs through the back entrance, tracing my steps all the way around the pool toward the guest house.
The door was open, so either he was welcoming in the chilly Chicago air, or he was getting ready to come to the main house.
I stepped inside. “Ash?”
“What?” His voice was muffled.
I frowned. “It’s, um…” I raised my voice. “Time for dinner at Nixon’s!”
“Does that make you my dinner bell?”
I hesitated, a smile tugging at my lips. “Maybe?”
“Do I get to eat you too?”
I felt my entire body flush. “Um, pretty sure that plain Annie isn’t on the menu, but I’m sure I can find you a turkey leg.”
And silence.
With a sigh, I made my way up the stairs and poked my head inside his room. “Ash?”
“Almost ready.” He made his way out of the bathroom in nothing but skin-tight black briefs that left nothing to the imagination, strutting his way around his room with a white T-shirt hanging loosely across his muscled body.
Tattoo’s swirled down his arms, wrapping his tan skin like a Christmas present.
Mouth dry, I looked away. “I can wait downstairs.”
“Not like you haven’t seen me naked before, Annie., he said casual enough that I glanced up only to have him send me a devastating wink. “Or do you need reminders of those two times?”
Three.
It was three.
I let out a breath like I was annoyed. “Trust me, you’re hard to forget when you’re being all forceful and grumpy.”
“Ohhhhh, so I forced your tongue down my throat?” His chuckle was warm. “Good to know.” He grabbed a pair of jeans that I liked but was literally taking longer than the entire dinner took to make.
Sighing in frustration, I marched over to his closet and walked in, searching for one of his tighter long-sleeve shirts.
“You’re driving me crazy,” I mumbled. “Wear this.” I pulled the shirt from the hanger and turned, slamming directly into his warmth as he steadied me. The shirt was sandwiched between us along with his present.