I walk over to the bed and grasp the edges of his shirt. “Arms up. Don’t get excited. This is strictly business.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, giving me a salute before he lifts his arms up over his head. I remove his shirt and bring my hands down to his pants. “May I?”
He nods, and I unfasten his jeans, pulling them down and off. Then I pull back the duvet, and he climbs under it.
I sit on the edge of the bed and bring the blanket up higher, making sure he’s fully covered.
He gives me that goofy smile again. “You’re tucking me in,” he points out.
“Just making sure you don’t roll off the bed.”
“What do they mean?” he asks, changing the subject. He runs his fingers down my forearm, tracing circles around the black lines inked onto my skin.
“Which one?” I ask.
“All of them.”
“Daffodils are one of the first flowers to bloom after the winter,” I say.
He nods in understanding. “Strength,” he whispers. “They always come back into the light, even after being hidden away by the darkness.”
“Yeah.” I’ve never put it into words like that, but that’s exactly what it symbolizes. Resilience.
“And the quote?”
“It’s pretty self-explanatory.”
He chuckles. “You know why I call you Chaos? It’s not just because of your tattoo.”
I nod, my heart pulling my chin up and down with invisible strings even though my head is telling me to run. Because somehow I know that the next words out of his mouth are going to destroy every wall I’ve built.
“When I was growing up, everything was always perfect. Manicured lawns, pretty table settings. Every holiday, every birthday was tailor-made to look like it came from a magazine.” He sits up, the blanket falling down to his abs. “It wasn’t real. None of it ever felt real.” His eyes bounce up to meet mine, warm honey and amber swirling around his pupils. “You areChaos, Allie. You’re freedom, strength, and beauty all rolled into one. You’ve taken all the numb parts of me and lit them on fire. How am I supposed to go back to black and white now that I know what color feels like?”
I fight off the tears knowing no good can come from breaking down. We’re both silent for several seconds. I don’t know what to say. His admission is beautiful and heartbreaking. I will myself to say something, anything, but the words don’t come.
“I’m sorry I ruined your birthday,” he adds.
“You didn’t,” I choke out, the lump in my throat growing by the second.
“I didn’t mean what I said.”
“Ash. It’s—we don’t have to talk now. Let’s get some sleep. We can talk in the morning.”
“Okay.” He scoots back down and turns onto his side. He holds his hands out and I swing my feet up, lying with my back to his front. Strong arms embrace me, his steady breathing filling the silence of the room. We lie like that for a few minutes. I’m still wearing my clothes. Despite what I told him, I hadn’t actually planned on staying, but a few more minutes like this won’t hurt.
Then I remember something he said earlier.
“Hey, Ashton?”
“Yeah?”
“Who is Clover?”
“Oh, she’s my niece’s bunny. She’s staying with me while they’re away,” he says sleepily, starting to drift off. “Thanks for feeding her,” he mumbles, and then he’s completely out.
I sigh as I gently move his arm off me. There’s no reason an innocent bunny has to be the victim in all of this. I pad down the stairs and check in a couple of rooms, but I don’t see a bunny anywhere. Finally, I pass by Ashton’s study because, of course, he has a study, and flick on the light. There’s a small cage set off to the side of the room. There’s a bag of rabbit food and alfalfa to the right of the cage. Inside sits a small white bunny with one gray ear. Her nose twitches as she hops over to the front of the cage. I unhook the latch and take out her bowl, filling it with the dark green pellets. I return the bowl and place some alfalfa hay next to it. The bunny excitedly sniffs at the food, taking a pellet in her mouth and nibbling. She looks at me like she knows I’m about to leave Ashton alone again.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I say. “It’s complicated.”
