My eyes jumped to his reflection, and his were waiting in the glass. For a moment, I couldn't think of any words to say. All those years came rushing back, and I remembered the first shower we'd shared, claiming it was because the rest were taken. It had been just as casual. Just as little of an ordeal, and just as easy. It was when I'd known I had a chance with him.
"Ash..." I said softly.
"I need time," he told me.
But that wasn't going to cut it. "You're the one who walked into my shower."
"Because I'm fucking trying, ok?" He paused, clenching his jaw to stop what he wanted to say. That was new. It also looked good on him. Then he tried again. "I'm not saying no. I'm saying I need a little time to figure out the difference between the boy and the man. The problem is that I think I like the man too much."
"Me too." I turned around, lifting my hands to make it clear I wasn't trying anything. "It's like all your rough edges got polished somewhere in Europe. You went from being cocky to being dangerous, and even more beautiful. Things like that?" And I jerked my head at the shower. "That's hard for me. I'm not saying not to do it. I'm just saying that you should be prepared for me to screw this up again."
"You're not," he promised.
"I'm gonna." And I turned for the door, deciding that was my cue to exit stage right.
"Cy!" he called after me.
I kept walking. He needed a moment, and should probably take one before I crossed a line. I was the one who'd pushed him away. I'd told him to think about what came after Southwind. I'd been thinking college, but he'd always been the kind of guy to go big or go home. And that was exactly what he'd done. He'd headed out to take over the entire fucking world.
Every time I'd seen his face - or even his body - on a billboard, it had killed me. That had been the first fight Kindle and I had. He'd asked me why I was so obsessed with some underwear guy. I hadn't been able to explain. I refused to tell anyone else about those days. For all I'd known, Ash had been calling himself straight, and I'd be damned before I hurt him again.
Because I'd hurt him bad. He'd told me he was doing it. He'd been so fucking excited, and I'd lashed out. Just like my father. Just like everyone else. Just like all those men in my past, I'd treated him like he was worthless. I'd wanted to put him in his place, make it clear that I didn't need him. No, he was supposed to need me, but he didn't.
By the time I made it into my room, my pussy-ass eyes were leaking. My throat was choked with the emotions, and I gasped, trying to breathe deep and slow to shut it all down. It had been more than a decade ago. That was old history, but seeing him standing there?
Then a pair of strong arms wrapped around me from behind and I felt his cheek against my back. "I'm not leaving this time, Cy," Ash promised.
"I fucked us up," I managed to get out.
Slowly, Ash turned me around only to hug me again. "I love you so much, Cyan," he breathed. "So fucking much that it hurts, but that's the problem. I love you so much that I'm blind." Then he tilted my head up, wiping at the dampness on my cheek. "I need to make sure I'm doing this for the right reason, and so do you."
I nodded. "Sorry." And I tried to wipe away the tears, hating that I hadn't been able to stop them. "I guess I'm just tired."
"Allergies," he agreed. Then he sighed and pressed his brow against mine. "Stop cowering. Stop backing off. Stop blaming yourself, because I was just as wrong. I was scared to tell you I was going to leave. I was scared about what you'd think, and terrified that you'd do..."
"Which I did," I finished for him, nodding against his head. "Yeah. Trust me, that was one of the first things we dealt with in school. I know how bad I fucked up. Us abandoned kids abandoning each other. Not much hurts worse."
"Yeah," he mumbled, lifting his eyes to find mine even as he leaned back. "But I made it worse. I made it hurt. I found as much salt as I could and rubbed it in your wounds so that mine wouldn't hurt as bad. I got revenge, and you're the one who paid."
"I deserved it, though."
"No," he promised, "you didn't. I hurt you back, Cy, and I'm so fucking sorry. More than you can ever know. I never once stopped thinking about you. You and her? You were my life, and when I lost you, I clung to her - and she let me. So this is me trying to fix that. I need time, but so do you. And I think you need her."
"She's Luke's," I pointed out.
"And mine. And believe it or not, she's yours too. One way or another. You already have something started with that man, and he's gonna start thinking about it soon. Don't push him away. It won't chase me off."
I just nodded. "Will you at least tell me this time when I go too far?"
"Probably loudly," he assured me. "Possibly with a fist. And speaking of that, how's your face?"
"Well, Luke's head is more solid than your pansy-ass hands, but it's ok. I'm figuring he's the one hurting today. How's your shoulder?"
"Shit." He laughed. "I learned how to roll with it the first time you hit me. I'm fine." Then he caught both sides of my face and leaned in to kiss my brow. "We have to learn to be friends before we can be more. I'm really not going anywhere."
"Me either," I promised. "Never again."
Chapter Forty-One
