Her nose bobs up and down, and I swear I can see her eyes roll.
“What? We agreed on no relationship stuff. Sleepovers are a relationship thing.”So is admitting that someone is the color in your life.But I don’t tell Clover about that. She’s already judging me.
“I have to go,” I tell her. “Thanks for listening.”
I close her cage and grab a few things from downstairs to leave on Ashton’s nightstand. Then, with my heart sitting heavy in my chest, I walk out of his house.
23
ASHTON
I wake up cold.I remember falling asleep warm with the feel of her hair against my face and the smell of her shampoo in the air. I already know she’s gone before I even open my eyes.
My head is throbbing and my mouth is dry, but I force myself to sit up. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a bottle of water on my nightstand and two painkillers. That’s when it all comes back to me, but it’s fuzzy. I remember passing a joint back and forth with Declan before most of the guests arrived. I don’t smoke often, so it hit me pretty hard. Then I texted Allie, but she didn’t respond. So I texted her again. And again. She was either ignoring me or something happened. Either way, I couldn’t seem to get my shit together. So I started taking shots. Admittedly, not my best idea.
I knew it was her birthday from her employee file. It’s not like I was stalking her or anything. I just looked to see if her full name really was Alexandra like I had originally guessed. Then I also happened to notice her birthday. I remember Emory telling me once that Allie hates being acknowledged on her birthday, so I wasn’t even going to say anything.
By the time she showed up, I was already past the point of noreturn, and who knows what I ended up saying. I try to go through our conversation in my head. I remember her being mad about something, and then we ended up in the pool house.
Shit.Shit.
I made that comment about the pills.
Of all the ways to bring that up, why did I have to do it at that moment? While I was drunk and we were arguing and it was her birthday. I’m such an asshole. Of course she didn’t stay. Still, she drove me home. That I remember. I also remember trying to sleep on the stairs, but our conversation after that is still blurry.
I grab my phone and take it off the charger. She must have plugged it in for me. I have eight missed calls. Two from Declan, one from my sister, and five from my dad. He’s been trying to reach me for weeks now, and I can’t even find it in myself to feel guilty about ignoring him. He knows I’m alive because I read his texts, but I don’t respond. There’s nothing from Allie, though. I can’t really blame her for leaving in the middle of the night after what I said in the pool house. I shoot off a text to her and then tap on my sister’s name. Cassie picks up on the third ring.
“Hey Ashtray,” she chimes. My sister is always in a good mood.
“Do you think now that we’re both in our twenties, we could maybe get rid of that nickname?
“Nope,” she says, popping the “p.”
“Okay, Cassie Bear.”
“Oh, come on!” she yells. “I had a tiny obsession with stuffed bears for a little bit.”
“A tiny obsession? You had over a hundred Care Bears at one point!”
“Whatever,” she dismisses me. “What’s up with you and Dad?”
“Cwover!” I hear a tiny voice squeal in the background.
“I’m getting to that, sweetie,” I hear Cassie tell her three-year-old daughter, Willa. “Uncle Ash has some explaining to do first.”
“He’s pissed that I left the company, Cass. You know that.”
“Well, he’s been trying to reach you, and now he’s starting to call me. And Mom…when was the last time you talked to her? Without you around to set up on dates, she’s hounding me for another grandchild.”
“Shit, I’m sorry, Cass. I’ll call them.” My sister has already given up so much. Married at eighteen. Pregnant at nineteen. Mother of a three-year-old when she’s practically still a kid herself.
“You better,” she scolds. Yeah, she may be a ray of sunshine ninety-nine percent of the time, but you don’t want to be around when that one percent comes out.
“Anyway,” she says, back to her cheery self. “Willa wants to know how Clover is doing.”
“She’s…” Oh, shit. Did I even feed her last night? I can’t remember. I jump off the bed and run down the stairs to the study. Clover perks up when I enter the room. She’s nibbling on a piece of alfalfa, and there’s a half-eaten bowl of rabbit food in her cage. I breathe a sigh of relief, but I’m still confused. I don’t remember feeding her. Then it comes back to me.
Allie must have fed her before she left. I somehow always knew she would have a soft spot for animals.
