Page 17
Author: Kirsty Moseley
Ashton nodded at my parents respectfully as we walked out of the room. “You okay?” he asked as we rounded the corner.
“Yeah, I’m just peachy,” I lied, shooting him a ‘shut up’ face.
He smiled sarcastically. “Of course you are. ”
“Ashton, I don’t want to talk about this, please can we leave it? I don’t want any more lectures,” I muttered.
“Okay, but if you need to talk to anyone about anything, then you can talk to me, I want you to know that,” he said softly. I looked up at him, seeing that he was watching me intently, his sincerity shining from his eyes. I smiled gratefully, knowing that I wouldn’t put that burden on someone else again. I’d already told him more than I’d told anyone else. I wouldn’t make that mistake again. “This is the part where you say the same to me,” he prompted, nudging my ribs with his elbow.
I chuckled. “Right, sorry. Well, if you ever need to talk about anything, I’ll be here for you too,” I replied, shaking my head amused. His hand took mine casually as we walked down the hallway. I didn’t actually even think about holding his hand now, it just felt natural, which was weird, but at least it would make it easier for us next week with me being able to be so casual with him.
He raised one eyebrow. “Well actually there is something I would like to talk to you about. ”
Well, shit, that backfired! I swallowed my groan. “Well then I’m all ears, Pretty Boy,” I said, smiling uncomfortably.
He cocked his head to the side, regarding me quizzically as we walked. “Well, I was wondering, why is it that you let me touch you and no one else?”
“You want the honest answer?” I asked just as we reached the front door.
“Of course,” he said simply. He looked like he was trying to pull the answers straight from my eyes where he was watching me so intently.
“I honestly don’t know,” I shrugged. That was the truth, I didn’t know what it was, but there was just something about him that made me want to trust him. I would trust this guy with my life yet I had known him for less than three days. It confused me, but it was true.
His frown grew more pronounced. “I watched you shy away from your own mother because you don’t like to get close to people, yet you let me sleep in your bed and lie all over you. I don’t get it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m taking it as a compliment, even if it’s not meant as one. ”
I sighed and chewed on my lip. “Take it however you want. I’m fed up with trying to explain the way my brain works sometimes. ” I smiled sadly, digging in my pocket for my car keys as we approached the garage. When the automatic door rolled up, I led him to my ‘other’ car.
His eyes widened as his mouth popped open in wonder and awe. I smiled. Yep, typical boy reaction to my car! “Oh, nice!” he purred, touching the hood of my maroon Aston Martin Vanquish appreciatively. As I held up the keys, he flinched, and I chuckled wickedly. “What? Why are you laughing? You think I’m scared to admit that your driving frightens the crap out of me?” he asked, laughing.
“You’d rather drive, Pretty Boy?” I teased, smirking at him.
“Definitely. ” He held out his hands for the keys, but he looked like he wasn’t actually expecting me to give them to him.
I sighed dramatically and threw him the keys. “Fine, but you take care of my baby. ”
He looked shocked for a few seconds then smiled sexily. “Don’t worry, Anna, I’ll take care of you and your baby,” he stated, patting the roof of my car gently. I laughed and got in the passenger’s side, watching him as he slid in behind the wheel with an awed expression etched on his face. “If you have this, then why did we take a Jeep out yesterday?” he asked, running his hands around the wheel lovingly.
I shrugged. “I don’t like to drive this car. ”
“So why are we taking it?” he asked, frowning and looking confused.
“I thought you’d like to drive it. You look like a pretty car type of pretty boy,” I replied, smirking and winking at him. He looked at me strangely, just like he did when I gave him the photo frame last night. “What is that look?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“What look?” he questioned, still doing it.
“That look on your face right now. What are you thinking? You had that same face last night when I gave you that photo frame,” I said, biting my lip wishing I hadn’t asked.
He turned, looking out of the windshield as he started the car. “I was just thinking that you’re extremely thoughtful and that no one has ever really thought of me like that, that’s all. I’m not used to getting gifts or having people think of me. It’s weird; I don’t quite know how to deal with it. ”
I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat. “Because you grew up in foster homes?”
He nodded stiffly. “Yeah, I never really had a family or anything from the age of ten, so I never got presents and stuff. I just got used to it, I guess,” he explained, pulling out of the driveway.
“When’s your birthday?” I asked curiously, after a couple of minutes of uncomfortable silence.
“November fifteenth. ”
“How old are you?” I asked, trying to commit the date to memory so I could get him a present.
“I’m twenty-one,” he answered, smiling. He was obviously enjoying driving my car.
“You can put your foot down, I don’t mind a bit of speed,” I suggested, looking at the speedometer to see that he was just one under the speed limit.
“Yeah? And what if I get you killed?” he teased, grinning at me.
I shrugged and spoke before I could stop myself. “Then you’d be doing me a favour. ” He slammed on the breaks and pulled the car to a stop, looking at me shocked and actually a little horrified. “What?” I asked, looking around for some animal or something that we hit.
“Please don’t ever think that again, Anna. That’s not nice to hear,” he said sadly. “You actually want to die?” he inquired, his face serious.
“Everyday,” I confirmed, not looking away from his gaze.
He gulped. “Why?”
“Why not? What have I got to live for? A whole life on my own? Waking up every day with the knowledge that I got one of the nicest people in the world killed? Knowing that I’ll never have that again, never feel loved, never feel whole, or clean, or pure? Why would I want to live?” I asked seriously.
He looked so sad, his eyes glazed over. “You don’t have to be on your own. You might meet someone, fall in love again. As for feeling clean or pure, that may not ever change if you don’t let it. That’s a state of mind; you need to let it go because there’s nothing else you can do about it. And you didn’t get Jack killed, he was murdered by a sick asshole. It wasn’t your fault,” he said softly, reaching for my hand and squeezing gently.
I sighed deeply. “Ashton, I’ve heard all of that in every single one of my therapy sessions, and I’ll tell you the same thing that I tell them. I don’t care what anyone else says, I know it was my fault, so let’s just drop it and change the subject,” I suggested, tugging my hand from his and turning on the radio.
He sighed and gripped the wheel tightly. “Anna, you shouldn’t-”
“You gonna drive, or shall we just go back to the house?” I interjected, putting my feet up on the dashboard.
“Anna, it wasn’t your fault,” he whispered, looking at me pleadingly.
“I know it wasn’t,” I lied easily. This was the other tactic I used on my therapist occasionally.
“You don’t believe that,” he stated, gripping my chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning my face so I had to look at him.
Frustration built up inside me. I didn’t want to be having this conversation, not with him, not with anyone. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Ashton! You don’t want the truth, you don’t want the lie! What the hell do you want me to say? What will make you drive us to the f**king mall?�
� I ranted, throwing my hands up dramatically.
He looked at me a little shocked before he laughed at my outburst. I felt the smile twitch the corner of my mouth and then I laughed too before he composed himself. “Right then, Miss Spencer, you want to see good driving?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows at me. I nodded, a little unsure if that was the right answer, and his eyes sparkled with excitement as he gunned the engine loudly. He pulled away with the tyres squealing. We sped down the winding road so fast that everything was just a blur. He was a kick-ass driver and my heart was beating so fast, I thought I would die of a heart attack. As we approached the populated area he slowed right down to normal, legal speed, glancing over at me and grinning his ass off.
“Enjoy yourself?” I asked, chuckling and still trying to calm my racing heart.
“Shit yeah, this car is awesome!” he gushed, rubbing the dashboard lovingly.
“Well, I’ll tell you what, if you can last the full eight months, you can have it,” I bargained, shrugging. He laughed and shook his head, obviously thinking I was kidding around.
Chapter Eight
The shopping was a pleasant change. It was good to get out of the house for a little while. The only trouble was that I felt like I was on my own for most of the time. Ashton was constantly distracted and checking everything out discreetly, so it was almost as if I was talking to myself half the time.
“Maybe you should have told Dean where we were going and then you could have actually relaxed and paid attention to what we’re talking about,” I snapped as we sat in the café, refuelling before we planned to shop some more. I glared at him as he watched a group of teenagers walk past near me, rather than answering the question I’d just directed at him.
“I told him, he’s back there,” he replied, motioning over his shoulder with his head.
A quick glance in that direction and I spotted Dean in plain clothes, lingering three stores away. I sighed and frowned, hating being followed around.
Nothing Left to Lose Page 17
