No Attachments

chapter 7: The face plant

Ashton

I drove home in a fog after the earth-shattering kiss Nathan planted on me. "Earth-shattering" was so cliché, but this kiss was that and more. Never has a kiss affected me in so many different ways. The clumsy kisses I'd shared with a few boys in high school and college paled in comparison. It was the difference between ordering an aged steak at a five-star restaurant and the chopped meat patties they used to serve in the school cafeteria. His parting words, though, affected me the most. With just a few words, he made me feel desirable and cherished all at the same time.

Pulling in front of my cottage, I managed to clear the fog in my head long enough to go inside. Along the way, the cold air made its way through my wet clothes, chilling me to the bone and effectively putting out the rest of the fire he'd ignited inside me. My trembling fingers fumbled with my key until I was finally able to slide it into the lock. Closing the front door behind me, I began to strip down, leaving a trail of wet clothes behind me on the way to my bathroom. It took all the hot water the small water heater could muster to fight away the chills that had gripped me. Only when the water started to cool did I switch it off.

I stepped from the shower, quickly wrapping my body with a towel, and another turban-style around my head.

I was in the midst of pulling skinny jeans and a cable-knit sweater on when I heard my TV click on in the main room of the cottage.

"Want to hang out?" Tressa greeted me around a mouthful of gooey cheese pizza. "I figured we could watch a couple movies and gossip."

The tantalizing smell of the pizza reminded me that I had skipped breakfast. "Sure," I replied, grabbing a piece of pizza as I rounded up my wet clothes from the floor. Still munching along the way, I carried them to the utility room that had been built onto the back of the cottage. I shivered at the quickly dropping temperature outside, and heaved the clothes into the basket so I could rush back inside.

"Man, it's crazy how quick the weather changes," I commented, heading back through the kitchen.

"Welcome to northern living. What I wouldn't give for warm weather all year around."

"Trust me. It's not as glamorous as it sounds. No seasons to speak of and scorching summers take the fun out of warm weather states. Did you bring chocolate too?" I asked, changing the subject as I sat down next to her.

"Chocolate fudge brownie ice cream," she answered, hitting the button on my Bluray player.

"Yum. What movies did you get in from Netflix?" I asked, grabbing another slice of pizza.

"This week it was comedies."

"Sounds good," I said, settling back against the cushions on my couch.

"So, are you going to tell me how your jump went, or am I supposed to brush up on my mind-reading skills?"

I took a moment to finish my second slice of pizza before answering her, unsure of how much information I wanted to divulge. "What makes you think I went through with it?"

"Uh, maybe because you left wet clothes strewn across your living room. Duh. I can't believe you were dumb enough to go by yourself."

I looked at her questionably.

"Brittni texted me about her strep to warn me, I'll probably get it next since the bitch took a swig of my beer the other night. So, spill it."

"I jumped off the bridge today," I said evasively.

"So help me, I will hit you upside the head with this remote if you don't answer my question," she threatened, holding up my remote like a weapon.

"Okay, psycho. I jumped, and it was scary, amazing and exhilarating all wrapped up into one. I'd do it again if I didn't freeze my ass off afterward, well that, and if I wasn't afraid the bridge was falling on top of me."

"What?"

"It would seem someone with a superhero complex was under the impression that I fell in and needed to be saved."

"OMG, please tell me it was Mr. Hot and Sexy who jumped in to save you," Tressa asked, bouncing on the couch with excitement.

"How did you know he was still in town?" I asked, surprised that was the natural conclusion she would reach.

"Hello. You do know this is Woodfalls, right? I could tell you who took a shit yesterday and who was constipated. The whole town is buzzing about the mysterious journalist who's decided to stick around in the boonies for a while. According to a very reliable source, he's super private and won't even let the maid service come in to clean his room. He has them drop off clean towels and sheets in the morning and leaves the dirty ones outside the door of his room," she said in an excited rush. "So, was he your knight in shining armor?"

"Wow, you're like Google, your knowledge knows no bounds," I joked, ignoring the way my heart rate had kicked into hyperdrive at the knowledge that he was sticking around for a while.

At my comment, she reached over and whacked me with the remote.

"Bitch, that hurt," I complained, rubbing my sore leg. "Fine," I said when she held up the remote again. "Yes, it was him. He nearly scared the shit out of me, jumping in after me like that. I was under the water when I heard a big-ass splash behind me. I was convinced that damn bridge was coming down."

"So, you're telling me this guy also has a hero complex? God, that's rich. Now I'm super bummed I didn't take him first the other night. I wouldn't mind a little mouth-to-mouth if you catch my drift."

"I'd have to be in a mineshaft, hundreds of miles beneath the earth not to catch your drift," I answered dryly. "It was sweet, but I'm not looking for some heavy relationship."

"Honey, neither am I, but that doesn't mean you can't have fun in the meantime. He's obviously panting after you like a dog. Use him for mind-blowing sex and move on," she said, grabbing a third slice of pizza.

"You sound like Fran. Aren't small-town girls supposed to have a higher sense of morals or something?"

"Honey, it's Sunday. Do you see me at any kind of church? Nope. My lack of morals was exposed many years ago. That and the fact that I may or may not have corrupted some of the boys when I was younger may have me on the 'we need to pray for her soul' list at all three churches in town. Seriously though, they act like skinny-dipping in the baptism pool is frowned upon," she quipped, winking at me outrageously.

"Nuh-uh, please tell me you didn't," I asked, torn between laughter and horror. I wasn't a churchgoer, but I'm sure that pretty much ranked up there with peeing in holy water or something like that.

"Only a couple of times."

"A couple of times?" I said, finally giving in to the urge of laughing.

"Okay, more like five times, but seriously, it was spread out at all three churches. So, really it was closer to one-and-a-half times at each church. No biggie," she said defensively.

"Well, that's one way to look at it, I guess. At least you were spreading the love, or boobies more accurately," I teased, pointedly eyeing her large chest that never seemed to want to stay confined beneath the material of her shirts.

"Truth. These babies deserve to be shared," she answered, cupping her breasts for emphasis.

"Does that mean you've decided to break it off with Jackson again?" I asked, naming her on-again, off-again boyfriend who drove me more than a little batty.

"Yeah," she said, looking guilty. "I just couldn't take it anymore. His dumb-ass mom is forever feeding his head with stories about how a good girl should act. She has him convinced he's going to go to hell for sticking it in me before marriage. She's always telling him we're too young for sex and not mature enough to handle it. I swear I feel like I'm back in high school rather than my senior year of college. I like him and all, but he seriously needs to figure out the kind of man he wants to be. Either he's a man that has his own mind, or he's a mama's boy. Regardless, I'm sick of holding his hands through his guilt. He gets all excited during the whole act, but after it's over, he acts like he's run over a dog or something."

"His mom would shit if she knew how many teens were sexually active at my old high school, and it was even worse at college. She should be happy you two are at least adults. Are you going to drop him for good this time?"

"I think so. There's a guy in my Psych II class who's been asking me out since the semester started."

"Good for you," I said, not admitting that I'd always questioned her and Jackson's relationship. I'd seen his wishy-washy attitude about things firsthand. Plus, he was a total douche about letting Tressa do certain things, like attend parties closer to her college. He had once commented that she was lucky he allowed her to make the forty-five minute commute to her campus each day. I had to fight the urge not to punch him in the throat for that one.

"You think so?" she asked, sounding insecure for the first time since we'd become friends.

"Absolutely. You totally deserve someone who's not constantly belittling you when he's not trying to sex you up."

"It feels scary," she admitted. "We've been on a break before, but we've never dated other people, and we've been together practically since we were freshman in high school."

I nodded my head, already knowing everything she was saying. As far as I was concerned, seven years of bullshit was seven years too many. "I think you're making the right decision. You deserve way more than that mama's boy is willing to give you," I reassured her. "When are you going out with the guy from your class?"

"His name is Michael, and next Saturday. We're going to go listen to some new band everyone's been raving about. They're supposed to be uh-fuc-king-mazing. You and Britt should come check them out."

"Right, because having you're two best friends tag along with you on your first date isn't a buzzkill. Besides, Brittni leaves in the morning for the internship training thing."

"Don't be a smart-ass. I meant you guys should go and check it out too. Maybe we could go check them out tonight before Britt heads out."

"Can't tonight," I said around a mouthful of pizza.

"Why not?"

"I kind of told Nathan I'd go out with him tonight."

"Are you f*cking with me? You've known this whole time I've been here that you're going out with make-me-wet stranger and you're just now mentioning it?" she yelled, whacking me with the remote again.

"So help me god, if you hit me with that remote again, you'll find it shoved somewhere you don't want it."

"Oh, you flirt. Now, stop coming on to me and spill it," Tressa demanded, muting the TV as if my news required absolute silence to be revealed.

"It's really no biggie. I think Nathan and I have tentatively agreed to date with a possibility of it turning into an affair with no attachments," I squawked out. Our deal suddenly seemed utterly ridiculous when steam and heat weren't clouding my judgment.

"Holy shit, you slut," she joked as I glared at her. "Kidding."

"I must be insane, right?" I moaned, covering my face with my hands.

"If that's insanity, break me off a piece. I'll take a no-strings kind of arrangement with him any day. So, where's he taking you?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted, rising from the sofa so I could calm my nerves with a mind-numbing amount of ice cream. "He said he'd take care of it when I pointed out Woodfalls isn't really known for their restaurant choices," I added, grabbing two bowls from the cabinet.

"Hey, that's not true. Now that they finally finished the McDonald's by the high school, we're completely chic," she mocked.

"Right you are. There's absolutely nothing wrong with gazing into each other's eyes over a cheeseburger and fries."

"Honey, I'm sure he won't be gazing in your eyes," she teased, looking at my chest.

"Stop being a perv. Besides, my boobs are nowhere near as big as yours," I answered, taking a big bite of ice cream so I wouldn't have to say anything else. A moment later, I yelped in pain as the ice cream hit my head in the worst case of brain freeze ever.

"Sheesh, dip, didn't anyone ever teach you to take smaller bites?" Tressa asked, handing over her glass of water. "I feel like I'm babysitting Mackenzie and Matthew," she teased, referring to her twin two-year-old niece and nephew.

I would have glared at her, but my head wasn't quite over the stabbing sensation I was currently suffering from. After several moments, I was finally able to resume eating my ice cream in smaller increments that Tressa took it upon herself to remind me to take. We spent the rest of the afternoon laughing our way through the comedies she had brought over. I pushed thoughts of Nathan to the far recesses of my brain, but every once in a while they would pop in just to frazzle me throughout the afternoon. By the time Tressa gathered her stuff to leave, I gave up all pretenses of normalcy.

"You'll be fine," she said, giving me a hard hug in typical Tressa fashion.

"I'm not worried," I blatantly lied through a fake smile.

"Right. Your face is always a delicate shade of green," she said, laughing. "You'll be fine," she repeated. "Just enjoy the ride," she added, wagging her eyebrows at me suggestively. "And I mean that in every sense of the word."

"You're not helping," I griped, shooing her out the front door.

"I expect tons of text messages and a call first thing in the morning," she yelled through my front door as I sagged against it. I was a mess. I seriously needed to get my shit together before Nathan saw through my adolescent hang-ups.

The next hour passed in a frenzied whirlwind of activity as I exhibited behaviors of someone who didn't have their shit together at all. I had decided to keep my attire casual and wear the cable-knit sweater and jeans I already had on. Halfway through brushing my hair, I had a sudden panic attack that my legs weren't freshly shaved. Dropping my jeans to my ankles, I rubbed my hand down my legs, grimacing at the short stubble that covered them. I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. Six forty-five, shit, maybe I had enough time to quickly run a razor over them.

With my jeans still around my ankles, I hobbled toward the bathroom, which wasn't the best idea with my brain so frazzled. I took a face-first header into the wooden floors of my room that knocked the breath right out of me. Gasping, I took stock of any possible injuries while I ignored the dust bunnies under my bed that I now had a bird's-eye view of. Of course, it would be at that moment that Nathan decided to knock on my front door.

I jumped to my feet, forgetting once again that my jeans were still around my ankles.

"Mother all f*ck," I grumbled as I found myself flat on my stomach for the second time with a loud crash. My lungs had just forgiven me for my last fall, and now seized up again, making me gasp for breath like a drowning victim. Halfway between berating myself for my complete dipshitedness and wishing my floor was at least carpeted in a situation like this, I heard my front door open.

"Ashton, are you okay?" Nathan's worried voice called out.

I was in hell. For the briefest of moments, I actually contemplated trying to slide under my bed to hide.

"I'm fine," I answered, using the little bit of breath I had managed to recoup. I frantically tried to shimmy my jeans up over my legs although my prone position wasn't helping much.

"I thought someone was attacking you," the last voice I wanted to hear at the moment said from my bedroom doorway.

I was wrong before. This was hell. "That someone would be my jeans." My answer came out muddled thanks to my predicament as heat filled my cheeks.

"Are you okay?" he asked, obviously concerned to see my panty-covered ass face up while I tried in vain to hide my face in the wood flooring.

"By okay, if you mean 'would I like to die at the moment?' That would be a resounding yes," my voice came out muffled due to the wood flooring against my face.

"Would you like my help?" he asked. Now that he knew I hadn't suffered some stroke or cracked my head wide open, he was completely amused.

"No, I think I can handle this," I said sarcastically, flipping over onto my back so I could hike up my jeans. It was only after I was in the middle of flipping over that I realized my sweater had hiked up to my neck, exposing my bra-covered chest.

"I kind of thought we would work up to this, but hey, I'm all in," he joked, leaning against the doorjamb.

"Seriously, God must hate me," I mumbled, abandoning my jeans so I could pull down my sweater. "I'll be out in a minute," I said, trying to salvage the smallest bit of dignity I had left.

"Are you sure? I have no problem assisting you," he said, winking at me.

"Out," I demanded, trying to ignore the heat that flowed through me from his wink. It was unfair that even in mortification his wink had the power to seduce me.

He chuckled, pulling my bedroom door closed behind him and leaving me alone in my misery.