“Clothes and a phone charger,” I said, pointing my chin at the mountain of plastic bags.
I caught the scent of food, happy that it had arrived. We were both too hungry to wait and unpack what I’d bought for him, so I plugged in my phone while we sat on the bed, Ash wrapped in a blanket, as we fueled up for the day ahead.
Every few seconds my phone buzzed with another message or missed call.
“I guess people are worried about you,” he said.
I nodded, my mouth full of eggs and bacon.
“I bet Jo and Vanessa have been blowing up my phone with messages. I’ll call them as soon as we get in the car.”
Ash glanced up at me. “Not your boyfriend?”
I pulled a face. “I don’t know. Maybe. We kind of broke up. He didn’t want me to go to Vegas.” Then I gave an awkward laugh. “Looks like he was right, even if it was for the wrong reason.”
Ash looked down at his half empty plate. “I will always be grateful that you came.”
I was silent, and slowly Ash’s eyes rose to meet mine. There was a connection there, I could feel it. Then he looked down again and resumed eating. The moment had passed, but I knew I hadn’t imagined it—I just didn’t know what it meant.
It was strangely personal, sitting side by side on a bed, eating breakfast. It was the kind of thing you did when you were dating not . . . whatever we were. It was too early to call ourselves friends. I hardly knew him, and Ash certainly didn’t know me.
After we’d drained the coffee pot, I handed over the bags stuffed with clothes.
“I forgot to ask your shirt size, so look forward to more clown clothes,” I said with a smile that I hope softened my words.
Ash pulled out a three-pack of dark gray briefs. He didn’t seem to know how to feel about them either, his dark eyes flashing with some quick emotion. But while I kept my back to him, he pulled on a pair without comment.
The jeans weren’t a bad fit—slightly too loose on the waist—but the long-sleeved Henley fit better. And there were two more in the bags: one navy and one pale blue.
I’d also bought him a heavy peacoat in black, with matching gloves and wool hat necessary for Chicago. And sneakers. With socks. And, a toothbrush. I’d forgotten to buy a razor. Oh well.
Ash finished dressing and turned to face me.
“How do I look?”
I withheld a sigh. Heartbreakingly handsome. That was the truth, but it wasn’t what I said.
“Not bad, although the towel made a statement.”
“You think?” he asked, going along with my teasing. “What did the towel say?”
There was no way I could tell him what that small towel around his waist had me thinking. I improvised quickly.
“Um, rule breaker, loafer . . .”
“A loaf? Like bread?”
I smiled. His English was so good, it was too easy to forget that there were some phrases that he didn’t always get.
“It means someone who’s lazy . . . a loser, I guess.”
Ash’s eyes flashed with anger.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said quickly. “It was a dumb joke. I’m sorry.”
He nodded stiffly but wouldn’t meet my gaze again. Instead he packed up my belongings silently, his face rigid in its blankness.
Kicking myself mentally, I watched him pace around the room, deliberately avoiding me. I deserved that: what a stupid thing to say.
Sighing, I picked up my phone and scrolled through the long list of texts and missed calls. I tapped out two quick messages to Jo and Vanessa to let them know that I was fine and would be home tonight. Well, very early tomorrow morning, even if Ash could keep going for the next 15 hours. I hoped that I’d be well enough to take a turn at driving later on.
I was surprised to see a number of texts from Collin that had started last night. He wanted to know if I was okay, but he didn’t comment on whether or not we were still a couple.
I sent a short message reassuring him that I was alright and that I’d be home after midnight.
Ash was still silent when he helped me into the car. Despite the fact that he was upset with me, the gentle, unobtrusive way he handled me hadn’t changed.
I wanted to apologize again for my clumsy remark, but I didn’t. It seemed best just to try and move past it.
Instead, I plugged in the phone and flipped through my contacts list to make the next call.
“Dad, it’s me.”
Laney
WITH A FRUSTRATED growl, I tossed my cell phone down and closed my eyes. The conversation with Dad had been difficult to say the least. According to him, I deserved to be arrested for fleeing the scene of a crime, was completely irresponsible, with a flagrant disregard for my civic duty etc. etc. I began to think that he’d arrest me himself when I arrived in Chicago.
And he wouldn’t listen when I said I’d come to the station with Ash tomorrow. He was going to send a cruiser to wait for us.
“That sounded hard.”
I glanced over at Ash and gave him a tired smile.