“Yeah?” Fig says as his eyes dip to Ash’s groin. “Exactly what equipment were you showing her?”
Behind Ash, my face burns as I imagine this story raging through the training center like wildfire.
“Don’t be an asshole, Fig,” Ash says as he reaches behind him and searches for my hand. I slip it into his, and his fingers close around mine. “Let’s go, Gray. We can finish this later.”
He tugs me past Fig and Jack, and I don’t just hear the promise behind those words. I feel it.
Chapter 25
Gray
Half an hour later, I still feel Ash’s hands on me, inside me, as I walk in my front door. I barely remember driving, but I must’ve stopped in the right places and hit the gas when I needed to, because I’m home, I’m alive, and I don’t recall being honked at.
Still, it takes me several seconds with my hand poised above the keypad to my alarm to realize what’s wrong. I don’t need to punch in the code because the alarm didn’t go off when I walked in.
I frown and try to remember if I set it when I left this morning. I was in a hurry, so it’s possible I walked out without doing so. I’m always so worried I’ll forget one thing that often I neglect others.
I look at the alarm again. I’m sure I just forgot to set it…
I head into the kitchen to see what I have for dinner. I’m only just realizing how hungry I am.
My phone pings, and I swipe it open. I’m mad at myself for hoping it’s Ash, but I’m disappointed to see it’s Drew. Months ago I would’ve been thrilled to see a text from him, but I’ve found someone else to hyper-fixate on, and the sight of Drew’s name just makes my body sag.
I open the text out of sheer morbid curiosity.
Drew
Is this still your phone, Gray? Just wondering if you got my last texts. It’s Drew.
He’s texted one other time since the night Ash took me to dinner, but I didn’t answer that time either.
Maybe his interest has nothing to do with me, and he’s just hoping tobecome friendly again so I’ll invite him to hang out with me and Ash.
Now that I think about it, that’s probably the case. He doesn’t want me. He wants Ash.
I’m about to put the phone down when I remember I need to call Ash. I dial, and he picks up on the second ring.
“Hey, baby,” he says, and my stomach hiccups at the smooth, deep timbre of his voice.
I have no idea why it affects me so much when he calls me that. I know some women consider it infantilizing, but I can’t get enough of it.
It sounds like he has me on speaker. I put him on speaker too as I rummage in the freezer for a frozen meal since I’m too lazy to cook.
“Bad time?” I ask. “It sounds like you’re out.”
“I’m driving, but I can talk. What’s this breakthrough you had that made you rope Kelsier into chirping at me the whole practice?”
“You didn’t really hit him, did you?” I ask.
“Not yet,” he says, but I hear the smile in his voice.
I find a frozen Indian meal and put the phone down to unbox it.
“I didn’t just have Kelsier trash talking you today,” I say carefully as I put the meal in the microwave. “I had him use very specific trash talk.”
I’m wary of telling Ash what I suspect, but he needs to know this if we’re going to address it.
“Okay,” he says. “What kind?”
