“Mom,” Ash muttered, and she laughed, throwing her arms around him.
“I love you more than anything,” she said, her voice clogged up. A kiss landed smack on his forehead. “You stay safe, you hear?”
“You too, Mom.”
He hugged her as she wiped away a few stray tears. Mr. Stryker pounded Ash on the back then pointed at his chest.
“You behave yourself, and don’t get into any trouble,” he said seriously.
Ash rolled his eyes. “No trouble, got it.”
“Otherwise, Snow, you have my full permission to punish him as you see fit.”
I blushed at that. I couldn’t believe this was happening.
“I love him, but every now and then the kid needs a good swift kick in the rear.” Mr. Stryker laughed like this was the funniest thing in the world. It startled a laugh out of me, too, because Ash looked horrified.
“Now, you’re sure you packed everything? Socks, deodorant?” Mrs. Stryker frowned as if something just occurred to her. “Ash, do you have enough underwear?”
“Yes, mother,” Ash said, through gritted teeth. “My God, I’m only staying a day. I love you guys, but could you leave already?”
“Just checking,” she said and gave him one last hug. “We’ll be back before you know it.”
“Love you, son,” Mr. Stryker said, walking with Mrs. Stryker to the door. As they drove away in their huge Escalade, like a blow to the head, I suddenly realized: This is real. This is actually happening.
Ash was going to sleep over.
At my house.
Where I eat.
Sleep.
Shower.
Good Lord.
“So…” Ash said, and when I turned to face him, he was holding up five DVDs fanned out like cards in his hand. Bruce’s face stared out from every one of them. “I figured now might be a good time for our marathon?”
* * *
There had to be something wrong with me.
Bruce was seconds away from beating O’Hara’s ass, an all-time favorite. I’d watched the scene over a million times. When we were little, me and Bae Bae used to act the fight out, arguing over who got to be Bruce, until Omma finally had to step in and make us take turns. I’d studied the moves, memorized the dialogue. I could practically do the sequence in my sleep I loved it so much.
When Ash’d asked me what movie we should watch first, I’d shrugged and said “whichever’s your favorite.” He’d said, “Enter the Dragon, hands down” (which I completely and totally agreed with), popped the DVD in, and sat next to me on the couch.
That was when the madness started.
So, why couldn’t I pay attention? Hmm, let’s see:
1) The proximity of Ash’s hand to my thigh. 2-3 inches at the most. ‘Nough said.
2) How quiet he was being. Was he thinking about those measly three inches, too?
3) How every time he shifted, my muscles seized up so I wouldn’t accidently fall into him. I’d never sat so straight for so long in my entire life.
4) The fact that Omma was in the kitchen only feet away—and Ash’s hand was that close to my thigh. Gah.
5) I was freaking starving! Usually, I ate like a fiend during movies. I mean, isn’t that like a rule or something? I didn’t know if I’d be able to snack out like I usually did in front of Ash, but I still missed the buttery goodness of movie popcorn, movie candy, movie soda.
6) My stomach just let out a pretty ferocious growl, and now Ash was frowning at me like I might be a creature from the black lagoon or something. Wonderful.
I jumped when his hand brushed the side of my leg.
“Hey, Snow?”
When I glanced over, his backpack was open, revealing a complete haul of theater candy, everything from Milk Duds to Twizzlers to Peanut M&Ms to Raisinets. The holy grail to moviegoers everywhere.
“Where’d you get all that?” I asked in awe.
“Stocked up before I came,” he said, brows lifted. “What’s your pleasure?”
I tried not to read anything into that and grabbed the box of Sourpatch Kids. “Thanks,” I muttered.
He shrugged. “If you want something else, let me know.”
And when he sat back…his hand stayed right where it was.
Against. My. Leg.
I sucked in a breath. The heat radiating from his skin seemed to burn a hole right through my thin pajama pants. He might as well have been touching my skin. I couldn’t move, could barely breathe. I dared a glance at Ash. Maybe he didn’t even realize.
He caught my gaze…and winked.
Oh Lord.
Ash realized, alright, and from the grin on his face, he knew exactly what his touch was doing to me. The movie seemed to last forever. My leg felt like it was on fire. When the final credits started rolling, he got up to change DVDs, and I sagged with relief.
“What next?” he asked, his back to me.
“Fist of Fury,” I said, rolling my neck. Geez, my muscles were tight. “It’s Lee’s second best.”
“You sure?” Ash looked over his shoulder. “You don’t think Game of Death beats Fist of Fury?”
Oh no, he didn’t.
I shot him a glare. “Are you questioning me?”
He shook his head. “No, but I mean, GoD does have Norris.”
“GoD is so not even close to Fury,” I argued. “The Norris/Lee fight was killer, I’ll admit. But as far as classic fight sequences and overall badassery goes, Fury has it all over GoD. No freaking question.”
“Alright, alright.” He raised his hands in surrender and turned to insert the DVD. I thought I detected a grin but couldn’t be sure. “You’re the authority on Mr. Lee. Fury it is.”
Satisfied, I nodded. The boy was fine, sure, but I couldn’t sit back and let him question my Bruce Lee knowledge. Good thing he’d gracefully accepted defeat.
“Snow-Soon, I made the kimchi,” Omma said, stepping out of the kitchen with a large mixing bowl in her hands. She was wearing pink gloves up to her forearms. Obviously, the kimchi was fresh, just how I liked it. “I want you to try some and make sure it’s not too salty.”
Ash’s eyes lit. “Did you say kimchi?”
Omma nodded then scooped up a piece of cabbage, held it out. I took the bite into my mouth and tried not to moan.
“It’s perfect,” I sighed.
She narrowed her eyes. “That’s what you always say. Ash, you try?”
“Omma,” I said, but Ash was already eating the cabbage she’d offered him. He did moan.
“That’s good stuff, Mrs. Lee,” he said, smiling.
She nodded and went to hand me the bowl. “Here, I’ll get your gloves.”
I did something I’d never done then: I said no to the drool-inducing kimchi.
“No thanks,” I said, though my stomach protested with another low growl. “I’m not hungry.”
“Not hungry?” she repeated in disbelief. “But Snow-Soon, you’re always hungry.”
Thanks, Mom. I could feel the blush rising on my cheeks. God, couldn’t we just pretend I was one of those girls with no appetite? Nara had told me a thousand times that guys don’t like it when girls eat more than they do. Stupid, I know. Pretty much everything Nara said was stupid. But I didn’t want Ash to know I ate like a linebacker. Unfortunately, Omma wouldn’t let up.
“Are you sick?” she asked, pushing her cheek against my forehead. “No fever. That’s good. Snow-Soon, I don’t understand. You usually eat the whole bowl of kimchi, sometimes two, when you watch the movies.”
“You eat this whenever you watch movies?” Ash asked.
I closed my eyes in defeat. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“God, you’re lucky.”
When I opened my eyes, Ash was taking the bowl from Omma. He looked excited like Christmas had come early. “Can I get a set of gloves, too?” he asked. “I love this stuff.”
While Omma went to get the gloves, Ash snuck another piece of cabbage into his mouth—and another. His hands
were already stained red from the chili pepper flakes.
“You want some, ninja girl?” He offered me a piece of cabbage, a small dot of paste already hanging from his chin. “I can’t promise there’ll be any left once your mom gets back.”
I rolled my eyes, grabbed the piece and popped it into my mouth.
He stared a second then said, “You know, I love a girl with an appetite.”
Reaching into the bowl, I took another bite, a little embarrassed but curious about the way his eyes followed me. “Watch out, or I might eat it all,” I warned.
That seemed to work. Ash ate two more bites and closed his eyes. “Beats popcorn any day,” he said.
“So true,” I said back, eating a few of the Sourpatch Kids. My stomach wouldn’t be denied any longer.
Ash shook his head.
“What?”
“I was thinking there wasn’t anything better than kissing you,” he said. “But watching you eat is a close second.”
“Shut up, and watch the movie.”
I tried not to smile, didn’t think I succeeded.
* * *
It turned out Ash sleeping over wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d thought it would be. When we got done with movie 2, and I said it was time for my afternoon workout, he just said, “Cool, I need to work off all that kimchi,” and followed me into the gym.
I didn’t think I’d be able to concentrate. Correction: I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate with Ash there. And I was right.
It was damn hard not to look at Ash when he was doing things like: stretching, running, kicking, sweating, breathing hard. He basically jacked up my focus simply by being in the room. Yeah, I did all of my usual, quads, lats, obliques, biceps, triceps etc. But my God, how was I supposed to keep count of how many butterflies I’d done when Ash had just taken his shirt off?
His abs weren’t like Bruce’s. I’d been right about that, too, but they were just as tempting. Ash’s abs looked golden—which meant I was probably hallucinating. They looked softer, more touchable, maybe even kissable—
Holy shit! He just caught me staring like a total idiot.
Whipping around, I pretended nothing happened and walked (ran) to the workbench conveniently placed as far from him as possible. Deep breaths, Snow. Do not think about Ash’s amazing golden abs. They’ll only throw you off.
I got into position, legs straight up, knees locked, arms attached to the back of the bench for stability. I could only do a few of Bruce’s favorite sit-ups aka Dragon Flags. But I’d worked my way up to five, and I knew if I wanted to get to 10 I had to keep pushing. Plus, if I was being honest, I kind of wanted to impress Golden Abs over there. Closing my eyes, I inhaled while my legs were on the way down, exhaled as they came back up.
Inhale, legs down. Exhale, legs up.
Inhale, down. Exhale, up.
Inhale, down. Exhale, up.
In—
“Nice form.”
My eyes popped open. All I could see were the abs inches from my face. Knowing who was attached to the abs made what happened next even more embarrassing. As my legs started to go down, I squeaked, lost my balance, and toppled right off the bench and onto my side.
“Jesus,” Ash said, leaning down. “You okay, Snow?”
“Wonderful,” I mumbled.
“That looked pretty bad. Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” As he helped me up, my knuckles just happened to, completely by accident, brush against his stomach. Goodness, they felt even better than they looked. “Thank you, soccer,” I mumbled, but I guess it wasn’t low enough because Ash laughed.
“Speaking of soccer,” he said, “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
I nodded, missing the twinkle in his eye.
“But you can’t have it right now. You have to wait until midnight.”
“Midnight?” I repeated.
Ash just said, “You’ll love it, trust me.”
We watched the remaining Bruce Lee films, and at 11:20 p.m. when Ash told me to grab a jacket and meet him outside, long after Omma had checked the Academy locks, said goodnight and went to bed, I didn’t question it. I grabbed my hoodie from my room. Bruce seemed to be shaking his head, but I ignored him and hurried downstairs. It could’ve been because I’d been blinded by his six-pack or because I was recovering from that embarrassing fall. Or hell, maybe I was just curious. Still.
If I’d known what was coming, I never would’ve let Ash leave the house.
CHAPTER 18: ASH
“A drive-in.” Snow sounded confused. “You took me to a drive-in?”
I nodded, paid Big Tim $15 for parking, and found a patch of dead grass in the very back. Cars lined the lot. Most of them sported CHS stickers on the bumper. It looked like we were the last ones here—understandable since it was 15 minutes to show time. Rolling the windows down, I flipped the engine off and turned. It was so dark I couldn’t make out her expression.
“It feels like I’m in Grease,” she said, and even though I couldn’t see it, I knew she was smiling. “I thought these things went out of business back in the 60s.”
“Most of them did,” I said. “They only open this one to visitors once a year for a very special occasion.”
“What occasion?”
I grinned. “You’ll see.”
“Is it a movie?” she asked, still curious.
“Something like that. Patience, ninja girl.”
“Is it more Bruce?”
“Better,” I said.
“Better than Bruce Lee?” Her tone told me she thought I was crazy. “Yeah, okay.”
“Well, maybe not better,” I corrected, “but I promise, it’ll be stimulating. Trust me.”
“I do,” she said then—”Stimulating, huh? Interesting word choice.”
“I’m not telling you, so you might as well just sit back and relax.”
“Fine, don’t tell me.”
“I won’t.”
“Whatever,” she huffed. I could tell she was still trying to figure it out—but she’d never guess. Not in a million years. “Was that Big Tim I saw back there?”
“Yeah,” I said, “he takes the cash. Little Tim runs the projector. Sadie should be around here somewhere, too. She’s the mastermind of this operation.”
“Really? Great, I need to talk to her.”
That sounded ominous. “About what?”
A hand slapped the hood, and we jumped. Light flooded the car.
“Hey guys.” Sadie peered through Snow’s open window, holding a flashlight, smiling like she hadn’t just scared the shit out of us. “I’m so glad you two weren’t making out or anything. That would’ve been awkward, huh?”
Awkward? I closed my eyes. Yeah, more like awesome.
“Why’re you all the way back here anyway?”
“Got here late,” I said.
“Oh.” Sadie drummed her hands on the roof. “Well, you should like this Snow. I know there’s a lot of hype, but Ash fully delivers.”
“Delivers…how?” she asked skeptically.
Sadie shrugged. “You’ll get to see everything in the video.”
“Everything,” Snow repeated.
“Yeah, I don’t want to feed that humongous ego of his, but Ash is one smooth operator. His skills, his finesse, he’s a natural. The camera loves him.”
My ninja girl looked from me back to Sadie, eyes wide. “Just what kind of movie is this?”
“You mean he didn’t tell you?”
Snow shook her head.
“God that is so like him to make it some big secret,” Sadie scoffed. “It’s the video of last year’s state championships. I had the idea two years ago when Chariot took the title. It helps boost team morale, gives me a little extra cash. What’d you think it was?”
“Nothing,” Snow said quickly.
I laughed, couldn’t help it. The relief in her voice was obvious, as was the red staining her cheeks. “Admit it, ninja girl. Your mind was in the gutter wasn’t it?”
�
��Hey Sadie, I want to ask you something.”
“Avoidance.” I grinned. “Nice.”
Snow ignored me. “You’re good with technology, right?”
“I’m okay,” Sadie said. “Honestly, I’m more the idea person. Big Tim and Little Tim are better with the tech stuff, but I can ask them if you want. Why?”
“I want you to check out the Strykers’ home security footage.”
I couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d asked Sadie to strip naked and do the chicken dance.
“But there are time gaps,” I said, “lapses in the video. They already told us that.”
Snow waved me off. “I want someone else to look at them. It was actually Omma’s idea.”
“Smith’s a professional hack, Snow. Even if you don’t like him, he’s the best. If Smith didn’t find anything, I doubt Sadie will.”
Sadie crossed her arms, eyes tight. “Are you challenging me, Ash Cornelius?”
“God no,” I said. Telling Sadie she couldn’t do something was never a good idea. She was nearly as competitive as me and twice as hardheaded. “I just don’t think there’s anything to find.”
“So, will you take a look?” Snow cut in. “I’d really love a second opinion.”
“Sure,” Sadie said.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. You two enjoy the show, and don’t worry.” She winked. “I’m on the case.”
Annnd now she sounded like freaking Nancy Drew. I shook my head as she walked away, taking the light with her.
“What was that about?” I asked.
It took Snow a second to respond. “I don’t know,” she said. “Something just bothers me about the whole thing. Don’t take this the wrong way, okay? But your dad isn’t extreme enough to warrant so much attention. Why him? Why now?”
“Obviously, he pissed somebody off,” I said. I’d asked myself those same questions months ago, and it was the only explanation I could come up with.
“Yeah, but people get pissed off every day and don’t do this.”
“There’ve been over a hundred threats now,” I said. “I’ve been keeping track. I figure whoever it is must be one messed up SOB. Like a mixture of obsessed and crazy.”
“And smart,” she added.
Ninja Girl Page 17
