Page 34 of Hash

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready,” I admit.

I can forgive, but how do you forget?

“It’s just going to take time, babe. You’ll get there.”

I hum in agreement. Truthfully, I don’t know if I will ever fully be there.

Thankfully, the rest of the workday flew by. I only had to wax one vagina, and the rest were facials.

I think it went by so fast because I tried not to think about what’s to come tonight. I’m nervous as fuck. I just never know what to expect from him.

I see Hash’s bike already parked in front of my house with him sitting on my front porch as I pull into the driveway.

“Let’s hope this isn’t a shitshow,” I mumble to myself as I put my car in park and cut the engine.

Hash starts walking toward me as I climb out.

“I thought you said you were coming over later?” I ask, slightly annoyed that he didn’t give me a chance to get home and get settled.

“And risk you bailing on me? Not a chance, baby doll.” Hash gives me a knowing smile.

Ugh.

“Gahhh!” Cormac shouts as I open the back door and get him out of his car seat.

“I know, baby. I’ll feed you as soon as we get inside.” I kiss his cheek as I prop him up on my hip to lean over and grab the flowers.

“I got those. You handle, little man,” Hash says, reaching over me until I had no choice but to step back.

I glare at him for giving Cormac a nickname. He hasn’t earned that right yet.

“What’s wrong with you?” Hash asks as he slams the car door shut.

“Nothing,” I lie. “It’s just been a long day.”

And it has.

Even more so now that I had to endure the slow torture of this evening. I’m still trying to figure out what his long game here is, and that makes me on edge.

“Put your feet up. I can take care of this,” Hash says once we’re inside.

“I need to feed Cormac, Hash.” I roll my eyes. Not all of us have the luxury of relaxing anytime we want.

“Tell me what he eats.”

I stare at him, wondering why he’s doing this.

“Aisling, let me help, please. I’m trying,” Hash says, his voice low as he places the flowers dead center on the dining room table so they’re on display.

“I was just going to give him my leftovers from last night. He loves mashed potatoes.”

The meat and veggies are small enough for him to eat with his fingers as well.

God, I’m such a fucking pushover when it comes to him.

I watch Hash as he goes to the fridge and takes out the leftovers and heats them up, serving Cormac first. It surprises me, but it’s a pleasant surprise.

He keeps passing every little test with flying colors.