Authors: Elena Matthews
We dig in, and the moment I put a piece of enchilada into my mouth, I can’t help the moan that erupts from the back of my throat as the flavors explode. We eat in comfortable silence, but every few minutes, Ashton keeps glancing at me with an odd passionate glare in his eyes, shif
ting in his seat uncomfortably.
Blushing furiously I try to ignore him and just concentrate on eating, moaning in appreciation when I take another bite. It
’s so damn good. As I look back up, Ashton is glaring at me again with his penetrating gaze and that one look alone has my insides clenching, a heat rising to the surface. I gulp nervously as my heart rate starts to pick up. “What?” I ask, only managing to croak, my cheeks flush red at the sudden attention. That seems to bring him out of his daze. He mumbles, “Nothing,” with a slight smile, quickly concentrating on his own food.
I shake my head with humor as I cut into the enchilada with my knife and fork, taking another eager bite. As I am in a mid-chew moan, Ashton drops his own cutlery against his plate; the metallic sound echoing around the restaurant, followed by
a grunt, then a hearty chuckle. “Ava, you’re killing me here.” His words strain through his voice.
I squint in confusion as I swallow my food.
“What?” I ask again with a grin.
He picks up his bottle of beer and downs the rest of it in one, the
n slams it back onto the table. “You’re eating your food as if it’s the sexiest thing that has ever passed your lips.” I widen my eyes with shock, my cheeks turning the heaviest shade of pink. “It’s a damn turn on, Ava,” he adds with a sexy smirk, almost causing me to choke on my food.
“Oh, God,” I say in a whispered shriek, my flush covering my entire body.
“That’s what she said,” he says with a chuckle, while my cheeks continue to burn. I shrink down in my chair, my hands covering my face with embarrassment. “I can’t believe I was moaning out loud like a damn porn star,” I say into my hands, purposely avoiding his gaze.
“It was better than porn,” he says with a mouthful of food. I peek at him through
the gaps between my fingers, like a naughty child. He winks at me as he takes another bite, moaning out loud for maximum effect, mocking me, causing a laugh to bubble from my chest. Suddenly, I can’t stop laughing, and for the next ten minutes, all you can hear through the restaurant is mine and Ashton’s laughter. It’s the first time in a long time that I have just let go and just laughed for laughing’s sake. It feels nice.
Before I know it, the evening has come to an end, and Ashton is walking me to the front of my apartment block, his fingers gently brushing against mine. I have the urge to close the distance and feel his embrace but the way his hand lingers against mine seems more intimate. We come to a subtle stop facing each other. His smile has my heart in a heated frenzy, which frightens me as much as it excites me. Then I physically stop breathing for a moment when he reaches over and tucks a loose strand of stray hair behind my ear, his thumb stroking against my cheek before dropping his hand back down.
“I’ve had an amazing night, Ava.”
I shiver as he says my name, the velvet tones reaching the sensitive peaks of my body. I nod in a daze, whispering, “Me too.”
His eyes take in my entire face, his eyes sparkling in the darkened street. A look of sadness crosses his face, and before I can question it, he speaks, “I wish I could kiss you.” I gasp as his thumb comes to a rest against my bottom lip, my heart thrashing unabashedly against my chest. “But you’re not mine to kiss.” I gulp painfully at his statement, and I fully expect him to move away from me but instead he surprises me by moving even closer to me until his chest is flush against mine. “We’re just friends,” he whispers inches away from my lips, his thumb stroking the small gap between my lips, his fingers holding my chin in place. I am finding it next to impossible to breathe having him so close. I’m feeling dizzy and overwhelmed, I feel drunk with lust. I blame this for my next question.
“But friends can kiss, right?”
He blinks in surprise, with a sexy smirk.
“Yes,” he says in a deep, strained, sexy voice as he edges even closer to me, so close I can feel his heart racing against my chest. Hell, that might even be mine. “A friend kiss is okay, right?” No, no it isn’t okay but that isn’t the answer I give him. Instead, I nod eagerly, desperate to have his lips on mine.
“One little kiss, one little peck isn’t going to hurt, right?” I shake my head in agreement at his question as my eyes zone in on those beautiful plump lips of his. His
hands glide through my hair, sliding up the back of my neck, eventually coming to a stop just below my ears, his thumbs drawing circles against my cheeks, my entire body shuddering at his touch.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, then, in what feels like slow motion, he gently presses his lips against mine on the lightest of kisses, and I can’t help but stumble backwards at the powerful sensation his lips create. He applies more pressure, and I moan lightly against his mouth. He keeps his lips on mine for a solid twenty seconds, and then all too quickly he pulls away,
breathless. My eyes flutter open as I struggle to catch my breath…
Well that is how it happens in my head but instead when I think he is about to press his lips against mine, he briefly presses his lips against my forehead, and pulls away a little breathless
.
“But I’m not going to kiss you. If I kiss you right now, we both know that it’ll be more than just two friends kissing. I want more than anything to be able to kiss you, to blow every other kiss you have ever had out of the water, but I can’t be that guy, I can’t be that guy who breaks up a family, it just wouldn’t be fair.” Then he steps away, pushing his hand deep into his pockets. “Goodnight, Ava.”
Then, like the
Scarlet Pimpernel, he disappears almost into thin air, leaving me stood on the spot, shaking with adrenaline as I replay the kiss over and over again in my head, even though it wasn’t the kiss I had originally envisioned.
Eventually, in a half daze I make my way up to my apartment. When I make my way to the eighth floor, and I see the door to the home I share with Sebastian, my heart lurches into the pit of my stomach as guilt consumes me. The door represents the betrayal of my feelings for Ashton and for encouraging him to kiss me, for wanting him to kiss me. What the hell was I thinking? I am confused as hell. I don’t know how I am supposed to deal with these new feelings, when I know deep down that it is wrong to feel them, when my heart belongs to somebody else. Or so I thought. I don’t even know anymore, especially now Ashton seems to be constantly clouding my mind.
Suddenly another panic erupts from the inside of me and I scramble furiously into the contents of my bag for my phone, knowing how I might have missed a call from Sebastian, especially since I haven’t heard from him in days. I feel my eyes water with unshed tears as I pull out my phone and press my thumb impatiently against the middle button, the glorious picture of my daughter popping up on the bright screen along with the time.
My heart drops.
No missed calls.
When the days begin to roll by, and I don’t receive a call or text from Sebastian, panic begins to set in. I know that communication with him is rare at the best of times, I am lucky if I get more than five minutes with him, but twelve days without any communication is unusual. What if something has happened to him? I’d hate to think of the dangers Sebastian could be in, and here I am, having more than friendly dinners with Ashton. Falling for him…
I spend the next few nights with my phone clutched in my hand, tossing and turning waiting for Sebastian’s call, part of me dreading of the possibility of not getting a call at all.
The next day at the hospital, Ashton senses that something is wrong and pulls me aside. “Hey, are you okay? You look a little out of it today.”
I shake my head as worry continues to rack my brain. “No, not really…um...” I pause for a moment, wondering if this is inappropriate, to be discussing anything Sebastian related with Ashton but without anybody else to discuss this with, what with Caleb
so busy, I decide I don’t have much choice. “It’s Sebastian.”
“Has something happened?” he asks, worry lines creasing at his forehead. I have to blink a few times when my brain starts to get a little foggy when his thumb lightly begins to caress the skin of my arm. Apparently my body is still overwhelmed by him, even when the life of my fiancé c
ould be hanging in the balance.
“No, um, well I don’t know actually. I haven’t heard from him in over a week, I’m kind of worried. It’s so u
nusual for him not to call me.”
He gives me a saddened smile. “I’m sorry. It’s normal to be worried, but I honestly think you
’re worrying over nothing.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“When Christopher was deployed in Afghanistan, it could be days or sometimes weeks before he could call or email. The units regularly have something called commo black outs, usually when a soldier was injured or killed. All communication is off limits until the army can get in contact with the family.”
“Sebastian mentioned that a blackout could happen before he left the first time. Oh God,” I shriek, my worst nightmare literally b
eing spoken out in front of me.
Ashton
takes hold of my hand, tightening his hold on me, comforting me. “Shit, I didn’t tell you that to freak you out. It’s just that the blackout is probably the reason why you haven’t heard from him, not because something has happened to him.”
“But, but?” I ask in a slight panic until his warm eyes gaze down
at me, immediately calming me.
“But, nothing, Ava. I am sure he is absolutely fine. No news is good news, okay?”
A couple of days later Sebastian finally calls me, and I am hysterical with delight when I finally get to hear his voice after
fifteen excruciatingly long days. Ashton was right about the blackout. Once Sebastian told me how much he missed me and how sorry he was for not calling, he explained to me how his unit was under a communication blackout because of the brutal death of two troops. I wanted to feel sad for the two fallen soldiers, but all I could feel was relief, relief that it wasn’t Sebastian. Of course, he couldn’t stay on the phone for long, but he promised to speak to me soon. I hated how sad he sounded though. I can’t even begin to comprehend how it would feel to lose fellow soldiers in such a ruthless attack like that. I just wish there was something I could do but being thousands of miles away, I just feel helpless.
I text As
hton as soon as the calls ends.
Ava
: You were right. Sebastian is absolutely fine. Thank you Xx
His reply is almost instant.
Ashton
:
I told you he would be. Just sucks that you have to go through this. I wish there was something I could do, but I’m here for you, day and night. Sleep tight beautiful.
As the next week goes by, Lily continues to get stronger. She is now eight weeks old. The pneumonia has completely cleared up. Her immune system is becoming stronger by the day; she is gaining weight at an appropriate rate, her last weigh in coming in at five pounds. She is, however, still on oxygen, but breathing completely on her own. She is now receiving her milk by breast and bottle now, which she absolutely loves. It took her a few times to learn how to latch onto my nipple, but once she was able to coordinate her sucking, breathing and swallowing, it became natural to her. She found my breast easier to control than the bottle at first, but with a little practice she got the hang of that too.
The first time breastfeeding was interesting, especially as the moment I removed my breast from my nursing bra, Ashton decided to come in for his usual friendly visit. He stopped dead in his tracks and just stared at me as I put Lily’s mouth onto me, h
is eyes widening with surprise. I was a little caught off guard myself but to see him squirm, purposely avoiding my gaze when a nurse cornered him, I couldn’t keep the smirk off my face as I concentrated on feeding my daughter.
The doctors and Ashton are confident that it might only be a matter of weeks until she will be allowed home. That leaves me feeling ecstatic yet terrified. Terrified, as I still haven’t given a single thought to her nursery or even baby proofing the apartment. The sickening pit in my stomach reminds me of how much I wish Sebastian were here, to help with the important stuf
f, like decorating the nursery.
I
’m currently discussing the various shades of pink to my opened eyed daughter as I look down at the color samples I picked up at the local DIY store, this morning. I hold up the samples, pointing to the lightest of pinks to Lily as if I might get some kind of response from her.
I hear light c
huckling and notice someone has entered the room. I don’t even need to look to know who it is. I turn just as Ashton saunters over to me, a grin plastered on his face. “What are you doing?”
“We are trying to pick out a color for the nursery,” I state confidently, hold
ing out the samples with pride.
“We?” He looks down at me, his arms crossed in fro
nt of his chest, still smiling.
“Yes, Lily and I. She happens to know a thing or two about the art of decorating,” I say with
a smirk, causing him to laugh.
“I bet. An
d what did you and Lily chose?”
I point to
the two shades of pink I am struggling to decide on. “Well we’re thinking between these two pinks.”
He squints for a moment, examining both colors. Eventually, he just shrugs his shoulders with confus
ion burrowing around his eyes. “I honestly can’t tell the difference. They both look the same time to me.”
I roll my eyes,
snatching the sample playfully from his hands. “Useless,” I say.
“Ouch, you really know how to bring me down a notch.” He smirks, moving his
hand up to his heart, feigning hurt. He steps past me, over to Lily and places his hand through the isolette door holding her hand with his forefinger. “How you doing, baby girl, you doing good?” Lily just looks up to him, with her big brown eyes. “So, when were you thinking of decorating Lily’s nursery?” he asks, as he continues to look down at my daughter, stroking his thumb against the skin of her delicate little hand.
“As soon as possible, although I am debating on whether or not to get a decorator in. Both Caleb’s artistic ability and mine begins and st
ops at stick figures, so I have no idea what the end result of her room would look like if it were left to our own devices. A disaster probably.”
He turns to face me, highly amused. “Well you’re in luck, I happen to be pretty great at decorating, and I happen to have a few days off from Friday, so we can make a start on it then.” He turns back to Lily briefly, before returning his gaze to me, no
ticing my surprised expression. “What, you think I don’t have skills?” This causes me to laugh. “Because I’ll have you know,” he says, pulling his hand out from Lily’s incubator, closing the isolette door shut, holding the palms of his hands out in front of me, “I do amazing things with these babies of mine and I’m yet to have any complaints.” He winks at me, and that one flirtatious gesture has me tingling from the inside out.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
On Friday, around noon, after spending the morning with Lily, Ashton picks me up from the hospital and we head over to my apartment. The moment he steps through the threshold, a moment of uneasiness flows through me. The thought of him entering a home I share with another man suddenly makes me feel uncomfortable, almost as if I am flaunting my friendship (if I can even call it that) with Ashton under Sebastian’s nose. I shake the uneasiness from my mind, convinced that I am doing nothing wrong, that I am simply having a friend of mine over to help with some decorating. It is completely innocent, or at least that’s what I tell myself anyway.
We walk through the small foyer that leads straight into the open living room. I place my purse against the sofa, slipping
my bare feet out from my flats.
“Wow,” I hear Ashton say in a surprised tone as he takes in my living room. I tr
y to pinpoint what exactly he is looking at, knowing there isn’t anything that is particularly special in my living room. Just as I am about to ask him to elaborate, he continues. “Do you ever actually sleep? This place is immaculate, when the hell do you get time to clean? You’re always at the hospital.”
“Oh,” I chuckle.
“I don’t, Caleb does. If it were down to me, I wouldn’t even have any clean underwear. In fact, I don’t even remember the last time I did laundry.”
“You should just do wh
at I do,” he says with a shrug.
“And what’s that?” I as
k half intrigued, half smiling.
“Just go commando.”
The idea of Ashton, with absolutely nothing on is an image I can’t deal with right now, so instead I smack him against the chest. “You,” I say pointing my finger into his chest, looking up at him, “head out of the gutter, we have decorating to do.”
“Yes
, boss.” He salutes with a grin.
We walk out of the living room through an adjoining hallway on the left that leads to three bedrooms and a bathroom. The first door on the right is mine, and Sebastian
’s bedroom; the next door across is the room that will become Lily-Mai’s nursery, the third door, is the bathroom and the room on the far end of the hallway, facing opposite the living room is the guest room that Caleb has taken semi-residence in. I head into the second door on the right. The room is only half the size of my bedroom, but it’s perfect for a nursery.
We make a start. Luckily we haven’t got any furniture to move or cover up as I still haven’t gotten round to purchasing anything just yet, so all we have to cover is the plush cream carpets with plastic covering to avoid any accidental paint spillage and as long a
s I am involved, it will spill.
While Ashton gets down to business, getting the primer ready in the paint tray, I retrieve the portable wireless speaker from the living room, and I place it in the corner of the room. The sound of music fills the room immediately as I press shuffle on my
iPhone.
When the second coat of primer is complete, Ashton crouches down to the paint tray as he prepares the paint, and after a short moment his shoulders begin to shake with laughter, looking up
at me with a shit-eating grin. I am confused for a moment, but then it suddenly registers when I hear the guitar riffs and country beats of Footloose coming through the speakers. I smirk, heat covering my entire face. Kenny Loggins isn’t exactly a sound that is usually accompanied with Fall Out Boy. It makes me smile though.
“Are you kidding me? Footloose?” He shakes his head at me in mock disgust. I
shrug my shoulders.
“So? This happens to be the best song
from the best ‘80s movie ever.”
This causes more laughter to shoot out from him, and I am getting the distinct feeling he is teasing me. “Ava
, baby, no ‘80s movie is the best ‘80s movie ever. It was the ‘80s,” he says through a chuckle.
I retrieve my phone out from my pocket, turning the music up, so loud that the song begins to reverberate around the room. He stands up from his crouching position, shaking his head in mock-horror shouting the words,
“No!” with a huge grin on his face.
I point to my ears, making out that I can’t hear him.
“I can’t hear you over the best ‘80s song ever! You’ll have to speak up!” I shout at the top of my lungs.
I start to move my head to the rhythm of the beat, smiling devilishly at Ashton. Then suddenly, like I did when I was five-years-old when the final scene would fill the screen, back when VHS players still existed, I begin to bounce on my feet to the beat, moving my hips from side to side. Without any warning, I jump to the rhythm with my arms in t
he air, dancing over to Ashton, dramatically mouthing the words of the song to him. He shakes his head as he backs away from me laughing, waving me off, but I ignore his cautionary glare and just continue moving towards him, jumping like a lunatic, waving my arms from side to side. I reach out for his hand, twisting his arm to the music as I continue to dance on the spot in front of him, shaking my entire body.