“Shacking up?” I raise an eyebrow at her choice of words.
Ashton smirks, enjoying the exchange between the two of us. He’s eating his burger but fully engrossed in our conversation. I wish he weren’t at the table, but short of telling him to move his ass, he doesn’t seem like he has any intention of going away anytime soon.
“Don’t you start up.” I point at him, warning him to keep his trap shut.
Apparently, my threat is enough to elicit a response from him.
“Kensley is right. You just seem really agitated. I think a good fuck would take care of that.”
“And you’re offering?” I glare at Ashton.
He puts his burger down and holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m not foolish enough to make that proposition. Your boyfriend would kill me.”
Kensley glares from Ashton to me. “So, Luca is your boyfriend. I knew you two had something going on, but you guys weren’t talking, last you told me.”
“We’re fine,” I grumble, really wanting this interrogation between my best friend and Luca’s best friend to disappear.
I glare at Ashton. “Is that why you’re joining us for lunch all the time?”
He shakes his head, not understanding my question.
“You’re Luca’s best friend.” I state the obvious. “Are you reporting back to him on anything I say?”
“I promise, I’m not reporting anything to Luca,” Ashton says. “He’s been a bit of an ass around the house. We’ve been steering clear of one another.”
“And on the ice?” I ask.
“At practice, he’s in full game mode. Nothing else seems to matter.” Ashton finishes the last bite of his burger. “How’d things go with Zeke this weekend?”
My shoulders tense as I glance from Ashton to Kensley.
Did he really have to namedrop my son?
Is he trying to fuck with me or just make sure that I lose my only friend on campus?
Kensley glances from Ashton to me. “Who’s Zeke? Is that why you ditched me this weekend? For another guy?” Her cheeks redden, and I can feel that she’s growing angry with me. “And didn’t you just say you’re dating Luca? What the hell, Harper?”
I push my tray of fries away. I’m no longer hungry.
Ashton smirks and steals one off my plate.
How juvenile of him.
“So, who is Zeke?” Kensley asks again, and I can sense her frustration.
“He’s my son,” I say, avoiding her glare.
Kensley pauses for a moment, tilts her head, and stares at me, perplexed. “You have a son,” she repeats the phrase slowly, as it sinks in. “Where is he now?” Her tone is soft, her voice a strange comfort in that she’s not freaking out at me.
At least not yet.
“He lives with my parents until next semester.”
It’s like a Band-Aid that has to be yanked off, revealing everything to her.
“What’s next semester?” Kensley asks.
“The wedding,” Ashton says, leaning back in his chair and smirking.
