"Because he made me feel like I was being unfair to you or something. I dunno. I just got stupid, ok?" He shoved a hand through his hair. "Viol -"
"Stop," I begged.
"No. If these people can't figure out that Vera's only granddaughter isn't like everyone else here, then they don't deserve to breathe."
I grabbed the closest tube of lipstick and wrenched it open. "The last time I was here, I was a stupid, fat, desperate little girl. Now I'm not."
"I know, but that doesn't mean this place isn't tearing you apart. I know what you went through. Shit, I wasn't any better, and being here? Brings it all right back." He groaned, flopping onto his back. "Dude's into you, too. That's the only reason he'd shove me around like that."
Lifting the stain from my lips, I pressed them together, then wiped away a smudge. "Was."
"You think we can just turn that off like a light?" he asked. "C'mon, you know better. We start acting stupid when our dicks are running our minds. If he didn't care, he would've walked away, not sucker-punched me in the gut."
"You totally deserved that." I tried to sound pissed, but a little giggle slipped out.
He grunted, proving he wasn't amused. "Bastard can hit, too. What the hell do they feed these boys out here?"
"Whole milk, not soy." I winked, then turned back to my mirror. My face was only half-finished. "But he moved his horses in, so that means he'll be back. Maybe I can get him to listen."
"Yeah, and maybe I can apologize. I am sorry, Vi. I really am. The last thing you need is me coming here to help and screwing everything up. We'll make this work out, ok?"
"I hope," I mumbled.
"I promise," he assured me. "But until the guy comes back, what do we need to do to get Southwind going again?"
We. That was why I loved him. It had never been himorme, not since the moment we’d met. It had always been AshandVi against the world. Didn't matter if that was the rich kids, the better models, or the people who were convinced that because he liked clothes he had to be gay. High school may have been a long time ago, but with Gran gone, I felt like every band-aid in my life had just been ripped off and I was left bleeding to death.
I sniffed. "Wanna help me box up Gran's clothes?" My voice cracked and I couldn't stop it.
"Oh baby," he whispered, peeling himself from the bed to walk over and wrap his arms around me. "I can do that. I'll help you keep as much or as little of her stuff as you want, and it's ok to cry. Stays between us."
"I miss her so much," I said into his chest. "No one else wanted me, and now she's gone, so I'm all alone."
"No, sweetie, you aren't. I'm not going anywhere. Not ever, even if I'm a pain in your ass. You're stuck with me."
All I could do was nod. With his arms hiding me from the real world, I didn't need to be strong. He wouldn't tell. Ashton never told my secrets. Not a single one. For fifteen years, we’d grown up together, stumbled through all the awkwardness of our teenage years side by side, and had come out stronger for it. I loved him so much. He was my constant in a topsy-turvy world.
Maybe it was because we’d known each other so long. It could be because we met when we were so young. I had no idea, but what I felt for Ashton had always been complicated and impossible to explain. The chemistry was there between us, but the friendship was stronger. Oh, sure, we’d slept together. A couple of virgins touring the world without any parents to stop us? Yeah, we'd eventually gone there. He was the safest option I’d had, and I still didn't regret it. I also knew that - being in business together - it was a bad idea to get in that habit.
Thankfully, he felt the same. The two of us had shared everything, including my grandmother. And Gran had taken him under her wing. When his parents didn't want him back after his time was served here, I'd asked if he could stay with me. Gran had made a place for him thereafter. When we'd gone to Europe the first time, it was Gran who came to watch us walk down the catwalk. When Ashton designed his first set of lingerie, it was Gran who'd told him to make it more practical, after she'd already bought the first one.
It was also Gran who'd dubbed him Magenta, and he'd embraced it completely. It had started as an offhand comment, but with my name being Violet and another boy we hung out with being named after a color, we’d been picked on by the problem kids at Southwind. To alleviate that, Gran had dubbed Ashton with a color as well, and he'd flaunted it like something to be proud of.
It quickly turned into a thing. The other kids who'd come through Southwind to work off their juvenile mistakes thought it made the three of us special. They wanted to be a color, too, so Gran had made it a rite of passage. Prove they could change and do better, and she gave them a color.
There was a whole rainbow, now. Violet, Magenta, Cyan, Crimson, Chartreuse, Indigo, Teal, Scarlet, Blaze, and more. Even to this day, we kept in touch. No color was ever used twice. Crimson said it was his superhero name, and I kinda liked that. My grandmother had taken a bunch of messed-up kids and showed us how to be better. She'd given us the tools to be strong.
Now, I needed to put those tools to use.
"We gotta get some agriculture going on," I mumbled into Ashton's shirt. "There's no way we can keep this place running if we're paying residential or commercial taxes. Luke says he can make hay, so I need to make up with him."
He pulled back to look at me. "Ok. And you're going to need at least a part-time psychologist. Have to get some agreements with a local hospital for medical crap, and what else?"
"Horses." I wiped at the dark smudge on his shirt. "Which means the first step is getting this place back together so we can bring some in and find help to take care of them. Think we can make this place pay for itself in two years?"
He shrugged, looking down at me protectively. "We're gonna try. I'll start talking to the board about writing some ads for the positions, that way we'll be ready when you are. And if it gets tight, Risqué will make one hell of an investment, ok? Southwind isn't going anywhere. Not unless you decide you want to move on."
"Why would I do that?"
