Then again, I don’t.
“What do you mean, you don’t believe me?” He pauses, and I assume she’s talking. “Give me a break, Ry. I got beat the hell up and you don’t think I sound like I miss you enough? What do you want, to hear me crying like you are? Like crying somehow proves that I care?”
Now she’s yelling. I can actually make out a few words. Like, mean and I don’t matter and need you.
“We’ve only been hanging out for a few weeks,” he says, and I get this sense that he’s feeling what I’m feeling. She is moving way too fast. “And what just happened to me is…serious. Like, I can’t give you all the details type serious.”
More screaming. The bed creaks and I take a few steps back, afraid he might start walking around. Maybe even exit the bedroom outright, only to discover me in the hall.
I’d have to play it off. Pretend I was coming to see him, though I have no reason to. I’m supposed to be mad at him still, right?
“She doesn’t know everything, I swear. I’m not even spending that much time with her. She’s always—” Rylie must interrupt him, and I realize…
She’s talking about me.
“Ry. I’m telling you the truth. She doesn’t know anything more than you do.” That’s a lie. “And no, I’m not spending any time with her.” Another lie. “Come on. Stop acting like a jealous bitch.”
And…
The call’s over.
If my boyfriend ever called me a jealous bitch, I’d dump him. End of story.
I take a few steps back, then start walking down the hall like I’ve just arrived, even rapping my knuckles along the wall in warning, like my dad does to Jake, so he doesn’t interrupt him doing something my dad or mom never, ever want to see.
“Hey.” I stop in the doorway, oddly exhilarated at seeing a sullen Ash sitting on the edge of the unmade bed, his legs and arms sprawled out, hands braced behind him on the mattress, his dark gaze meeting mine. His jaw is tight, as are his lips, and ooh man, he looks furious. Especially with the bruises and scrapes.
He also looks deliciously, dangerously attractive.
“How are you?” I ask brightly when he still hasn’t said anything. “Just so you know, the rumors at school are a little quieter today.”
“I thought you promised you would never lie to me?” He lifts one brow in challenge.
“Well, that part is true. They weren’t talking about you as much.” I wince. “Also, the cops were at school, asking about you.”
“There’s the truth I was looking for. But thanks, I already heard about it.”
I’m frowning. “Who told you?”
“Rylie. God, she was acting like such a bitch just now. I don’t have time for her whining, not with everything else that’s going on.” He shakes his head and sits up straighter. “I should block her number.”
Hope lights me up from within and I tell myself to stop it. “She’s just worried about you.”
“Stop defending her. She was saying all sorts of bullshit about you,” he mutters.
“Like what?”
“She’s just jealous.” He waves a hand, dismissing what he said. “You still mad at me, Callahan?”
“Why am I mad at you?” Just being in his presence makes me forget things, like holding onto any anger toward him.
“For dragging you into the pool. For flashing you my dick. For complimenting your nipples.” He holds up his hand and ticks off each reason with his fingers. “That’s three things. I’m sure I can come up with a few more.”
“I’m over it.” I step into the room and glance around. It’s a very bland room, with a small dresser, a desk and a bed. Of course, it’s a guest room, and they’re supposed to be bland, so…no surprise. “What did you do today?”
“Hid out in here. Your dad and I had a talk. He told me your brother is taking my place at Friday’s game.” The grim expression on Ash’s face tells me he’s not happy about it. “Fucking sucks.”
“You can’t play. You’re still hurt,” I start, but Ash cuts me off with a look.
“If that motherfucker ruins my football career, I will kill him.”
“Are you talking about my brother?” I start to back out of the room.
“No, of course not!” I stop in my tracks, relief flooding me. “I’m talking about that asshat boyfriend of my mom’s. Don.” Ash curls his hand into a fist and smacks his thigh. “I have to play next week. Keep up my stats. Your mom says colleges could be watching me, and I need more film to upload.”
“Upload where?” I have no idea what he’s talking about.
“There’s a website where you can upload game film for college scouts. Not like I’m going to be picked up by one, but your mom is filling my head with unicorns and sunshine every time we talk, so you never know.” He rises to his feet and starts heading in my direction. “Hey, whatcha doing right now?”
I back up as he keeps coming. “I was going to do homework.”
“Wrong answer.” He smiles, and I realize his eye is not as swollen today. It almost looks normal. “How about we go for a drive?”
No. Don’t do it. It’s like he’s playing with fire and I’m dying to get burned. He has a girlfriend-friend-I don’t know what to call her who’s jealous of me. If she found out we went for a “drive,” she’d be so upset.
“I can’t,” I say weakly, and he shakes his head.
“Wrong answer again, Callahan. I need your help.” He stops directly in front of me, reaches out, and slips his fingers beneath my chin to tilt my face up so I have to look at him. “And you won’t turn me down when I ask for help, will you?”
The sigh that escapes me is louder than I meant it to be. “What do you want?”
“Take me to my house so I can get my shit?” he asks hopefully.
“That sounds dangerous.”
“Mom’s at work and the asshole is too. Not dangerous at all,” he says swiftly.
If my parents found out, they would be so angry. At me, and Ash. “You know my parents won’t approve.”
“When has that ever stopped you?” He raises his brows. “Come on, live a little. Walk on the wild side with me. It’ll take me all of five minutes to grab what I need, ’cause I don’t have much. Not like you do.”
His words make me feel guilty, and it’s the guilt that has me agreeing to this stupid plan.
I hope I don’t regret it.
Twenty-One
When I drive into his neighborhood, I notice immediately it’s pretty run down. The houses are older and small, and the yards aren’t as well kept. Ash makes me park down the street from where he lives, which I think is a bad idea, but then he casually mentions that people’s cars get broken into at his apartment complex’s parking lot all the time, so I decide his decision isn’t so bad.
We dart down the sidewalk and approach the building from the opposite side than he normally does, or so he tells me. We’re acting like we’re spies in a teen thriller and it’s almost kind of funny, if it also wasn’t so scary.
It’s still sunny outside, considering it’s close to five on a September day, and the complex seems fairly quiet. There are a few kids running around on scooters or bikes. An older woman is sitting out on her tiny front porch, talking loudly on a cell phone while simultaneously screaming at one of the kids, who must belong to her. Ash is clinging to the edge of the building, watching everything play out in the courtyard of the apartment building, and I’m standing right behind him, waiting for his word to go.
“I wish Mrs. Conrad wasn’t sitting outside.” He shakes his head, glancing back at me. “She’s got a big mouth.”
Everyone has a big mouth in this town, I want to tell him. Someone could spot my car and recognize it. Tell my parents that they saw it parked on this road and bam, Ash and I would be totally busted. “Where’s your apartment?”