by Aly Stiles
Chapter Three
ASHTON
Six AM feels earlier than normal today. I groan and slam my finger against the alarm button on my phone, rolling to my back with a wince. My shoulder has been killing me since last night. I’m not sure if I tweaked it during my day job or at the restaurant later, but what’s usually an easy six hours of unconsciousness came littered with wakeups and stirring last night. It’s nothing major, just enough tightness to be annoying at a time when I don’t need more setbacks on my plate.
I give myself two minutes to adjust before finally forcing my body off the bed. Rotating my shoulder a few times helps loosen the stiffness a little, and I continue massaging the sore area on my way to the bathroom. At least I don’t have a shift at Shelton’s today. If I’m lucky, I can get Braydon in bed by nine and crash for a full night’s sleep before the marathon starts again tomorrow.
An hour later, I’m fully awake by the time I reach the worksite, although my shoulder is still bothering me. It feels like one of those rocks I’ve been working with has shoved itself behind my shoulder blade, but I’ve pushed through much worse. I just have to make it to lunch when I can grab some painkillers.
Lane and Jack are already here when I arrive, hovering by the gate. They wave me over, and I join them, just as Kurt pulls up.
“Hey, Ashton,” Lane says.
“’Sup, boss.”
He sips his coffee, while Jack and I nod a greeting. Kurt approaches as well, and Lane motions for us to gather.
“Real quick. Spoke to the client this morning. They’re happy with our work so far, so great job. Also, they said we’re welcome to use the pool house for breaks. Said it’s air conditioned and has a bathroom. It’s not in use while we’re working on the area anyway.”
My gaze shoots to him in surprise, and based on the other reactions, I’m not the only one confused.
“Are you shitting me?” Jack asks.
Lane shrugs. “Seem like good people. I’m fine with it, just don’t take advantage and leave the place cleaner than you found it, got it?”
“Sweet,” Kurt says.
Jack releases a loud breath. “Damn. Didn’t see that coming.”
Lane smirks and starts up the driveway. “Just no using the shower.”
By our first break, my entire body is on fire. My shoulder pain has spread to the rest of my back and limbs as I’m forced to adjust my usual movements to compensate. Combined with the heat and dehydration, I’m straining to keep up. The pool house is a lifesaver when it’s my turn to hide for a few minutes and try to catch my breath.
The blast of cool air when I move inside is heaven, and I lean against the closed door, enjoying the chill on my sweat-soaked skin. I’m surprised to see the interior is bigger than my apartment, definitely much nicer and better furnished. Given its size and elaborate façade, I don’t know why I thought this place would be a glorified shed.
It feels strange being here alone, almost irreverent. Especially, when it occurs to me with a sinking feeling that this luxury is probably another gift from Iris. Can it really be a coincidence that the day after she learned our routine, it suddenly gets disrupted? At least it’s helping the other guys as well, so I try my best to appreciate the gesture as I make my way toward what appears to be the bathroom door.
After seeing the rest of the interior, I’m more prepared for the extravagant bathroom. It’s strange to see my dusty reflection in the mirror. Wet hair hanging in my eyes, streaks of dirt on my face and arms, all standing in stark contrast to the pristine glass and tile around me.
I shake off the image and turn on the water, sighing into the cool relief of a splash on my face. I coat my arms as well, careful to rinse any spots off the surfaces after I finish.
But damn this shoulder.
Bracing my palms on the sink, I pull in a long inhale, trying to breathe through the pain. Everything felt four times heavier all morning, and suddenly what seemed like an achievable goal when the day started is looking less promising now. I just have to make it two more hours, right?
Except it turns out two hours in the heat when you’re in pain and dehydrated feels more like eight. By the time lunch rolls around, I’m struggling and just hoping I can make it through the rest of the day.
“You okay, kid?” Lane asks as he passes. The others always go out to buy food, but I bring my own to save money.
I do everything I can to stand tall through the pain radiating along what feels like every nerve in my body.
“Fine, why?” I force a smile and what I hope is a casual expression.
“I don’t know… you look like you’re dragging a little. You pull something?”
Shit.
“Nah. Just slept weird last night, I think. It’s nothing. I’m gonna go grab something at the drugstore now to take care of it.”
Lane continues to study me, and I hold my breath. Please don’t send me home. I cannot afford a sick day right now.
I fight to straighten further and toss a brighter smile.
He squints, scanning me again before finally relaxing. “Okay. If you say so. But don’t mess around if something’s not working right. You’re gonna do more damage.”
I nod. “Yeah, of course. Like I said, it’s nothing.”
“Alright. Well, see you in a bit. Make sure you get some air and water, okay? Dehydration and heat-stroke isn’t going to help.”
“You got it, boss.”
I manage to stay upright until he rounds the corner, then I lean against the wall. Both of those things are already getting to me. I know that’s a big part of my problem, which is even more frustrating. It’s like I woke up a step behind on everything this morning. My eyes clench shut as I breathe in deep, soothing breaths.
Come on, Ashton. Get up. Get. Up!
I jump at the sound of the door, and glance over in alarm to find a familiar face standing in the threshold. Crap. As if I needed more obstacles to clear at the moment.
“Hey,” Iris says with a warm smile. “Lunch break?”
I swallow and force a nod. I try for a return smile, but can’t seem to divert any more energy to acting. Every bit of strength I have left is keeping me upright.
Her smile fades, and she tilts her head. “Is something wrong?”
“No, I’m fine. Just tired. And hot.” And hungry. And ready to fucking pass out. My gaze lands on my cooler which suddenly seems so far away. But not as far as my truck. Or the drive into town.
Oh god, I need two hours for lunch, not forty-five minutes.
I force myself forward a step, but a wave of dizziness takes me in the wrong direction. I reach out and brace against the wall for support.
“Ashton!”
To my horror, Iris is soon beside me, wrapping her arm around my waist, as if her small body is going to be able to keep mine from collapsing. I wince from a new kind of discomfort when I see the fresh stains on her white top. Shit!
“Come inside and sit down,” she says urgently, tugging me toward the house.
I shake my head, and try to pull away. The adjustment sends another shot of pain and heat-induced nausea through me. Fuck! This is the last thing I need right now.
“I’m fine,” I lie, waving her off.
“You’re not fine. Please, just come in and—”
“No!” I fire back and cringe when she shrinks away. “Sorry. I mean. I can’t. Just… I can’t.”
Her expression melts into compassion which is somehow worse.
I look away, furious that precious seconds are ticking off the clock, and I can’t get my body to move.
“Then at least go to the pool house,” she says quietly.
Her gaze lifts to mine, searching, and I shudder at the effect of the strange plea waiting there. Why the hell does she care so much?
“You’re allowed to now, right?”
Yeah, because of you.
There’s no doubt now who’s responsible for that. She may not have been the one to talk to Lane, but whoever did wa
s doing so at her request. If I had an ounce of strength left, I’d fight that too, but right now, I’d lie on a fucking concrete slab to get off my feet and stretch out my back.
With a heavy sigh, I finally nod, and before I can react, she’s jogging toward my thermos and cooler in the shade by the other side of the patio. She scoops both from the ground and starts back toward me. I manage to follow her to the pool house, pulling in a full breath once we’re inside. The cold air alone seems to work wonders on my aching body. Half of this is definitely from the heat and dehydration.
She closes the door and places my belongings on the table.
“What’s really going on, Ashton? You look like you’re about to pass out.”
She’s not far off. In fact…
I sink to the floor before that can happen and lean against the door. This time I don’t fight her when she grabs my thermos and drops to the carpet in front of me.
“It’s nothing,” I mutter, accepting the thermos from her. “Just tweaked something in my back yesterday. I was going to get some meds on my break but…” I blow out a harsh breath and focus on inhaling water instead.
Without warning, she pushes up from the floor and disappears into the bathroom. I stare after her in confusion, especially when she doesn’t close the door behind her. A few seconds later she returns with a couple of pill bottles and hands them to me, taking her place on the floor again.
“Iris…” I say with a groan.
“Ashton…” she mimics, adding a smile.
Damn she’s cute. And sweet. And shit, this is such a mess.
The bottles feel like molten rock in my hand. Contraband somehow, but right now, I’d break any law for a little relief. If I can just get through the day, after a full night to recover, I should be fine tomorrow. This isn’t the first time this has happened. Just the first time it’s happened in the presence of Iris Alexander.
“What’s for lunch?” she asks, pushing herself back up.
She crosses to the table, and a smile flickers over my lips at her less-than-subtle maneuver. She knows I don’t want to accept her charity, just not as much as I need to right now.
I sigh and open one of the bottles.
“Nothing exciting, trust me.”
I swallow the pills with some water, even more grateful when I realize this detour is going to give me extra time to rest and allow the medication to kick in before going back to work.
“Really...” she says in a dramatic voice, turning back to me. “And what would an exciting lunch be?” She flutters her hands, and I wince through a laugh.
“I don’t know. Filet mignon? Caviar? What do you rich billionaires eat?”
I force away an instinctive protest when she opens my cooler and starts inspecting the contents.
“Well, let’s see. Today I had a yogurt.” She pulls mine out and holds it up. “A turkey wrap.” She plucks my ham sandwich from the cooler. “And some carrot sticks.” She places my bag of pretzels beside it. “So basically this.”
I can’t stop the smile spreading over my lips, especially when she gathers everything back up and brings it over to me. She plops down again and holds out the cooler.
“Thanks,” I mumble. “Except…”
She follows my gaze to the bathroom.
“Ah. Need help?” she asks, totally serious.
I bite back a laugh. “Going to the bathroom? Are we that close already?”
She shoots a mock glare at me, and my grin breaks. Rolling her eyes, she grabs my arm.
“Help getting up, genius,” she says.
My amusement fades as I hiss in a breath and force myself to my feet. Really, I just need to wash my hands, but if I’m going to embark on the long journey, I might as well make the most of it.
“Do not wait for me outside the door,” I warn with a stern look.
She snorts a laugh, and my smile returns as I close it.
I’m relieved to see she listened when I finish and exit the bathroom. She’s at the table again, where my lunch is now spread out like we’re at some weird restaurant.
“We’re relocating,” she calls back.
“Oh we are?”
She nods and waves to the chair across from her. “Better for your back. Also…”
For some reason she stands when I sit.
“Also?”
“Where does it hurt?” she asks, coming toward me.
“Excuse me?”
“Where in your back is the pain?”
Confused, I stare at her while she widens her eyes in a challenge. When I still don’t respond, she sighs.
“Look, I happen to know a few things about sore muscles. So you can either spend your lunchbreak arguing with me. Or you can enjoy your lunch while I help you get through the rest of your shift without passing out.”
She crosses her arms and settles a defiant look on her face.
Everything in me wants to argue, but once again, she’s so freaking cute and I’m so freaking tired.
“Yeah? And what exactly are you going to do?” I ask, pulling out my sandwich. “Send me more emojis?”
Her lips twitch through her severe look, and I can tell she’s fighting a smile. I smirk and take a bite.
“Tell you what. You let me do one thing, and I will leave you in peace to eat your lunch.”
I arch a brow, chewing slowly. “You promise?” I grin when her eyes narrow in playful offense.
“You know what? Yes. Yes, I do.” She raises her own brows, daring me to go back on my word.
After yet another silent standoff, I finally release a breath. This woman is stubborn, I’ll give her that.
“Fine,” I sigh out, dropping my sandwich back on its bag. At this point I’m just curious how she thinks she’s going to help.
“Great,” she says with a satisfied look as she crosses behind me. “Where does it hurt the most?”
I shake my head, still in disbelief this is happening. “Left shoulder,” I mutter.
“Top?”
Chills rush over my skin when I feel her hand on my back. She presses gently, and I hate how it suddenly feels a little better for no possible medical reason.
“No, middle. Around the shoulder blade.”
“Here?”
I inhale sharply when she slides her fingers over the spot. She must notice because she pushes harder.
“Here?” Her voice is softer now. Less demanding, more concerned.
I nod, pulling in a deep breath. “Yeah,” I say on the exhale.
“You have a huge knot right there.”
She grips my upper arm with her other hand, then presses hard into the sore muscle.
I gasp at the initial burn, my body tensing against the painful pressure, but she holds steady. After several seconds, it’s like I can feel the muscle relaxing. Shit. That was weird. And actually helped. She must sense it too, because soon she lets go and rubs that same spot with a lighter touch.
“Any better?” she asks gently.
“Yeah.”
She repeats the action, and I lower my head, breathing deeply and visualizing my muscle releasing its tight grip on my spine.
She stops pushing, and suddenly things are strange again. Her hands are still on me, both of us motionless and silent. Nothing about this feels right. And yet, it feels so right. I feel more right than I’ve felt in a long time.
“Good,” she says quietly.
She brushes her hands along my upper back in another soothing motion before stepping away. There’s a chill on my skin once she’s gone. When she comes around the table, her expression is much different than the bossy woman from a moment ago. Her eyes search mine in the quiet room, nothing but the sound of the air conditioning vent whirring around us.
“Well, you kept up your end of the bargain, Mr. Morgan. I will now bid you adieu.”
Her smile finally slips out, and I can’t help returning one of my own.
“Thanks, Iris,” I say.
“You’re welcome, Ashton. Take care o
f yourself.”
I watch her go, wondering what the hell just happened.
Chapter Four
IRIS
Apparently, my new favorite activity is trying not to look at the time. I spend all of Wednesday doing just that, which is when I also learn I suck at it.
I don’t want to let myself count the seconds until lunch or obsess over the guy working right outside my window. I have no desire to be that person, but there’s something about Ashton that draws me in and messes with my head. Just a look, a smile, is enough to make me melt into a different person.
Our interactions so far have been brief, but it’s enough to know I want to spend more time with him. In my world of flashy facades and opportunistic interactions, there’s a genuineness to Ashton that’s like a breath of calming ocean air. He couldn’t care less who my father is or what he can get out of our relationship. In fact, I sense that if I didn’t push so hard, he’d be happy to never speak to me again. It makes me sad, since all I want to do is get to know him better, but I can understand his hesitation toward my world.
A lot of the time I don’t want to be in it either.
When I was eleven and Ivy was thirteen, Dad sent us to summer camp for a month. Not a thinly veiled resort retreat like our friends went to, but honest to goodness summer camp with bunkbeds and cabins and spiders and other kids from all types of backgrounds.
I was in heaven enjoying the peace of nature and being free of obligations and distractions. I’d never felt so in tune with myself than I did during those few weeks of simplicity. I especially loved getting to know the other kids who were so different, and yet, each unique story had one common chapter that brought us together in that moment. Pretty sure it was the worst month of Ivy’s life. I asked to go back every year until I was too old.
A decade later, I’m back to caring about summer camp essentials like the lunch bell, I guess, because a minute after noon, I’m already peeking outside to see if the guys are wrapping up for their break.
Will Ashton be willing to hang out with me again?
