I glance up at Ashton, thinking about everything that’s happened between us. “Yes, I suppose I am.”
Ashton leans down and sticks his hand out. “Call me Ace. That’s what my friends call me.”
They both look up at me in question and I laugh, remembering just how young they really are, before I nudge my head slightly toward Ashton.
Eric takes Ashton’s hand first, gesturing him forward like he’s got a secret to whisper in his ear. Of course, a five-year-old’s whisper might as well be through a megaphone. “What’s wrong with you? Livie’s really pretty for a girl.”
I try not to laugh. Ashton’s eyes flicker to me and there’s a mischievous twinkle in them. A twinge of panic hits me. Of all the ways he could answer this question . . .
“I’ve tried, little buddy. But Livie doesn’t like me very much.”
“She’s your friend but she doesn’t like you? Why not?” Derek asks, a deep frown creasing his forehead.
Ashton shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve tried as hard as I can, but . . .” Then his shoulders slouch a bit and his smile falters, playing the role of wounded boy to Academy Award perfection.
The twins cock their heads and stare at me in eerie unison. “Why don’t you like him, Livie?” Derek asks.
And I have turned into the villain here.
“Good question. Let’s try and figure it out, guys.” Ashton leads them over to a kids’ table as I catch Diane’s attention with a wave. “Gale said it was fine,” I call out, pointing at Ashton.
With a wink, she shifts her focus back to her kid, but I don’t miss the frequent and curious glances at Ashton. It’s the same kind of glance he earned from Gale, and from the nurses along the hall, the female parking attendant, and two doctors . . . one of them male.
I lean my crutches against the wall and gingerly step over to the table where Ashton has already made himself comfortable, his long legs stretched out and his leather jacket lying next to his feet. He pats the chair next to him for me. I take it, not because I want to sit beside him so much as I want to elbow him in the ribs if I have to. Hard.
The boys pull two chairs up to face Ashton, and by the serious expressions on their faces they think they’re about to uncover a major problem. “So, boys,” Ashton leans forward on his elbows. “Any guesses?”
“Do you like puppies?” Derek asks in a quiet voice.
“Yup.”
“Are you strong? Like Superman?”
“I don’t know about Superman, but...” Ashton flexes his arms and, even through his thin charcoal shirt, I can see the ripples form. “What do you think?”
Both boys reach up to touch his arms and they mouth “wow” at the same time. “Feel his muscles, Livie.”
“Oh, no.” I wave away, but Ashton is already grabbing my hand and placing it on his biceps. My fingers barely wrap around half of them. “Wow, strong,” I agree, rolling my eyes at him, but I can’t help the small smile. Or the heat racing up my neck.
“Are you rich?” Eric asks.
Ashton shrugs. “My family is, so I guess I am, too.”
“What are you going to be when you grow up?” Derek asks.
“Dude, he’s already grown-up!” Eric elbows his brother.
“No, I’m not yet,” Ashton says. “I’m still in school. But I’m going to be a pilot.”
I frown. What happened to being a lawyer?
“Does your breath smell?” Eric asks.
Ashton blows into his hand and inhales. “I don’t think so. Irish?”
“No, your breath doesn’t smell.” I smile, ducking to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and hide my blush. His mouth tastes like mint and heaven. Minty heaven.
“Why do you call her Irish?”
“Because she’s Irish, and when she gets drunk, she’s got a mean streak in her.”
“Ashton!”
The boys start giggling. By the snort of laughter from Diane, I’d say she heard that.
“Honestly.” I bury my face in my hands for a moment, which only makes the boys giggle more and Ashton grin more, and soon I’m laughing along with them.
Eventually the questions get more serious. “Do you have a mom and dad?” Eric asks.
Ashton didn’t expect that question. I can tell because he falters, and I see his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows. “Everyone has a mom and dad.”
“Where are they?”
“Uh . . . my dad is at his house and my mom isn’t around anymore.”
“Did she die?” Eric asks with complete innocence.
A flicker of pain flashes across Ashton’s face.
“Remember the deal, boys,” I warn with a raised brow.
“I thought that was just our deaths,” Derek says solemnly.
“No, it’s a blanket rule. It applies to everyone.”
“Okay, sorry, Ace,” Eric says, hanging his head.
Ashton leans forward and squeezes his shoulder. “Don’t you worry about a thing, little man. She’s a bit strict with her rules, isn’t she?”