All It Takes (18 page)

Read All It Takes Online

Authors: Sadie Munroe

BOOK: All It Takes
12.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

She doesn’t matter.

None of these people do.

Only Ash and I matter. And that’s the way it should be.

“You need to get your life together,” I tell her and pull myself back into a standing position as I scoop my laptop off the table and snag my bag off the back of my chair. I shove the computer inside and pull it over my shoulder. “Because no one should think that what you and your little boyfriend did was okay.”

Then I pick my tea up off of the table, turn on my heel and walk out the door.

Ash

I
hear Star’s car pull up in the driveway and I wipe the palms of my hands against my jeans for the millionth time.

I can’t believe how fucking nervous I am. We’ve been messing around for weeks, and just the thought of asking Star to actually
go out
with me has my knees shaking. My palms are sweating like I’m thirteen fucking years old and about to ask Jessica Kirkley to our first middle school dance.

But this is going to go better than that had. It
has to.
I am sure of it. Jessica Kirkley had laughed in my face and told me to try again when I got taller.

Bitch.

Star wouldn’t do that to me. Not after everything we’ve been, though. Even if she hates the idea, she’d be nice about it. I’m sure of it.

Pretty sure.

I think.

“That stupid bitch!” Star groans out once she’s in the door, and my head whips around to look at her. What the fuck happened while she was gone? She hauls the strap of her bag over her head, sending her hair flying, and dumps the bag on to the sofa once it’s free. The living room isn’t quite clear, but it’s getting there. Soon we’ll actually be able to use it for, you know,
living.

Okay, for sex. The air-conditioning will be fucking glorious for that.

“What’s the matter?” I ask, a million different scenarios running through my mind. “What happened?”

“Lacey,” Star snaps, like that explains everything. It doesn’t. I have no fucking idea who Lacey is. And after a second of me just staring at her, Star seems to realize that. “The waitress,” she says, reaching up and rubbing a hand over her face. “The blonde from the diner that was rude to you when you applied for a job. That Lacey.”

“Oh . . . kay,” I say. Progress. We’re getting there. “What happened?”

“It was her boyfriend that trashed your car,” she says, and throws her hands up in the air. Unfortunately, the house is still a little too packed to be expressive in, and her hand knocks against a precariously-placed—and what appears to be empty—shoe box at the top of a pile, and it comes falling down. We watch it as it somersaults to the floor, knocking down a grocery bag full of grocery bags—why the hell are there so many of those in this house?—and a plastic Christmas tree topper in the shape of a star. Everything goes tumbling, and Star is standing there, looking like the goddess of fury and in that moment all I can think is
she is really fucking hot.

She hauls in a deep breath, and, once the dust has settled, continues her rant like nothing happened. “She told me, at the tea shop that Maisie told me about. It was Preston and his brother and their stupid asshole friend. They’re all assholes. And Lacey is the biggest bitch of all because she had the absolute gall to try and tell me that they did it for her protec— Wait. Ash? Why are you looking at me like that?”

I can feel the smirk tug at the corner of my mouth, and I don’t bother trying to hide it any more. Instead I just look her up and down and take a step forward.

She, in turn, takes a step back. “Ash . . . seriously?” she says, eyes widening. But I can see the flush that’s starting to spread up her neck, and I’m struck by the urge to see just how far down it goes.

“Mmmhmm.”

“Seriously? This
is doing it for you?” She takes another step back. But it’s the last one. Now she’s backed up against the row of boxes against the far wall, the ones we’ve been working up to going through. I grin and reach out and press my hands against the boxes on either side of her, bracketing her body against the stack of boxes with my arms. I lean closer and press a kiss to her jaw before pressing my lips against her neck and just breathing her in.

“You have no idea,” I say, because
hell yes
this is doing it for me. “Somehow you’re even hotter when you’re all pissed off.”

She scoffs, but her hands come up to spread against my chest. “Somehow I don’t think you’d be so into it if it was you I was pissed at.”

“Hmm, well we’ll just have to see, then, won’t we?” I say, and lean in for a kiss.

***

Afterward—way,
way
afterward—we’re in the kitchen and I suddenly remember what I’d been meaning to ask her when she walked in the door all mad and hot. So while we’re waiting for our macaroni to finish cooking, I swallow down my fear and say, “So . . . you wanna go out dancing with me tomorrow night?”

Star kind of stares at me for a second, all deer-in-the-headlights, and I can’t help it. I start laughing. She harrumphs out a sigh and reaches over to whap me on the belly with the back of her hand. “Stop laughing,” she says. “It’s not funny.”

“Yes, it is,” I say, reaching out and poking her in the side before stepping around her to poke at the noodles in the pot.
Another couple minutes,
I think.

“Well it’s not like I was expecting it,” she says, exasperation in her voice. But when I turn to look at her, she’s smiling this soft little smile, and I want to wrap myself around her and never let go. “Why do you want to go out, anyway? You hate this town.”

“Yeah,” I say, “I do. But the place I want to take you isn’t in Avenue. It’s in the next town over. And besides, I want to take you out.” I take a deep breath and blow it out, bracing myself a little. “You deserve it.”

You deserve a hell of a lot better than I could ever give you. But I’m willing to try.

“But you told me you hate dancing,” she says, but her little smile is turning full-fledged and I know I’ve got her. I knew she’d like this.

“I do,” I say. “I suck at dancing, I look like a monkey on speed. But you told me you love to dance. So you and me, we’re gonna go dancing. Besides . . . ” I move up so I’ve got her right up against me. Her body feels so good, even when it’s just barely brushing up against mine. I reach over and slide my hand around her waist, dipping my fingertips under the hem of her shirt so I can brush up against her skin. She shivers a little at my touch, but she doesn’t move away. I grin and press my face into her hair, my mouth brushing against her ear. “I kind of like the thought of you rubbing that hot little body of yours up against me as we dance.”

A full-on shiver runs down her body as I whisper to her. Then she turns in my arms, and pushes up on her tiptoes and nuzzles her nose against mine.

“I like the sound of that,” she says, and I can’t hold back any longer. I lean forward and wrap both my arms around her middle and lift her up a little bit, just so that her feet are off the ground, and I press my mouth against hers.

And, because right at that moment, I’m the luckiest bastard on the planet, she kisses me back.

Chapter 18

Ash

I
ended up taking her to Gerard’s for dinner first, a little hole-in-the-wall pub in the next town over, not far from where I’d planned on taking her dancing. I used to come here, not to get shit-faced like I normally did at bars, but for the food. It has the best damn chili on the planet, and just like I thought she would, Star fucking loved it. Not the best first-date food, sure. But it has always been my favorite, and I wanted to share it with her.

We got a little booth in the back, eating and laughing and having a good time. I’d wrapped my arm around her shoulders, snuggling up against her as I tried to shove my nerves about going dancing deep down so they wouldn’t show. I’m going to look like an idiot.
But that’s okay,
I tell myself.
You’re going to be with the hottest girl there. No one is going to be looking at you. Not when they could look at her.

And damn, does Star ever look good. I don’t know where she even got those clothes, but when she walked out of the bedroom in those tight jeans and that little leather jacket, it took everything I had not to suggest just staying home and doing some “dancing” on the living room floor.

Well, if there was room on the living room floor, anyway. Which there wasn’t. We hadn’t gotten that far in the clean-up yet.

Soon,
I think as I follow Star out to the parking lot, my eyes following every curve of her body as she walks ahead of me.
Soon.

“Come on,” she says, reaching back and snagging my hand in hers. Smiling, she raises her hand in mine and twirls her body underneath it like a ballerina. “You promised me dancing.”

I smile and pull her close, wrapping my free hand around her waist, and press a kiss to her temple. “Are you sure you still want to do that?” I ask. “Because I can think of a couple other things we can do. By ourselves.”

“Hey, mister,” Star says, laughing and shoving me away from her playfully. I laugh and fake a stumble into the side of her mom’s station wagon, clutching at my chest like she’s wounded me. “You promised me dancing.” She wags her finger at me. “And that means that we are definitely goi—”

“Well, look who came crawling back.” A voice cuts through the darkness, and it makes something cold shoot up my spine and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I know that voice. I know it extremely fucking well, even though I haven’t heard it in five goddamn years. My heart in my throat, I squeeze Star’s hand and slowly turn around.

Fuck.

She looks different. Her hair’s shorter now, up around her shoulders instead of trailing in curls down her back, but it’s still just as red. And her eyes are just as fucking cruel as they were the last day I saw her.

I take a deep breath, trying to brace myself, but my voice still sounds like a hormonal fucking teenager when I force it out.

“Hey, Gina,” I say, trying not to wince at the sound. “It’s been a long fucking time.”

My ex-girlfriend just smirks at me and cocks her hip out to one side as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Yes, Ash,” she says, “it has.”

Star

T
his is her, I realize. This is Ash’s ex. The one that broke his heart and dropped him when the accident happened. The one who abandoned him when he needed her the most. I grit my teeth as I look her over. She doesn’t even glance at me, even though Ash and I are still pressed close together.

I want to rip her eyes out.

“I should have figured I’d see you around here,” she says. “After all, this is where you used to take me all the time.” Her gaze darts over to me finally, giving me a cold once-over before dropping down to where my fingers are linked with Ash’s. Then she looks back up at me and smirks before turning back to Ash.

“It’s my favorite restaurant, Gina,” he says. He’s gripping my hand so hard that I’m going to have bruises, but I don’t care. I squeeze back just as hard. I’m here. I’m his now, and he’s mine. This girl is his past.

And the past doesn’t matter. Not to us. Not anymore.

But she just scoffs. “This dump?” she says. “Not exactly fine dining, is it?”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re complaining about,” Ash says. “In case it has escaped your notice, you’re here, too.”

“Only because I saw you in the parking lot. Brenden and I are having dinner at the new French place across the street.” She tilts her nose up into the air like that’s supposed to mean something, like she’s better than us, somehow. Yeah, right. Ash has told me all about her. Little rich girl who wanted to walk the wild side, wanted to get her parents attention by getting into drugs and drinking. But she’s the one eyeing him like he’s the worthless one. “You remember Brenden, don’t you, Ash?”

Smirking, she takes a step closer, and Ash takes a step forward and tugs me behind him slightly, so that he’s standing between the two of us, the line of his back stiff as an arrow.

“They should have let you rot in prison,” she says. “You deserve it, after what you did.”

I lay my free hand on Ash’s back, trying to soothe him, but it’s no use. He’s tensed up completely, muscles coiled like he’s ready for a fight.

But instead of snapping back at her, like I expect him to, his muscles begin to loosen. As I watch, Ash almost seems to shrink in on himself, becoming smaller and smaller as this horrible woman goes on and on, telling him how useless he is, how terrible. Her voice is like the scraping of nails across a chalkboard. It’s killing him.

Then she draws her arm back, hand twitching like she’s about to take a swing at him, and I can’t take it anymore.

“Get the hell away from him!” I yell, stepping forward around Ash, and the girl jerks away from me, her eyes widening as I reach down and pull my phone out of my bag. I can’t help the smirk that starts to tug at the corner of my mouth as I turn on the phone and waggle the screen in her direction. “You lay one finger on him and I’m calling the police and having you charged with assault.”

She takes a step back, eyes darting back and forth between me and Ash, probably wondering who the hell I am. Good. Little redhead wasn’t expecting anyone to actually say anything, even after she spewed all that crap where anyone could hear it. I can’t imagine why. Did she think that she was so damn intimidating that she could just walk all over everybody?

I take a step forward and, hilariously, the girl—Gina, Ash said her name was—actually takes another full step back. “Yeah,” I scoff, dropping my phone back into my bag. “That’s what I thought.”

For a split second, she fumbles, her perfect little persona slipping for an instant before she manages to shake it off and pull herself back together. But it’s too late. I’ve already seen straight through her. She’s weak. The worst thing that ever happened in her life didn’t even happen to her. It happened to Ash. She’s had nothing that hard in her life, nothing she’s had to live through, to force herself to be strong just to keep breathing through.

But I have. And that makes me stronger than her.

Much stronger.

But she’s the one who’s crossing her arms over her chest and looking at me like she’s the queen of the world, like I’m beneath her. Like Ash is nothing more than a bit of dirt on her shoe, and I’m no better, having associated with him.

How wrong she is.

She whirls on Ash, what little is left of her fire flashing in her eyes. “Are you going to let this little bitch talk to me like this, Ash?”

I can feel as much as hear the breath Ash takes and blows back out as he comes back into himself, and I smile as his hand lands on my waist, pulling me closer.

“She can say whatever she wants,” Ash says, and I turn to look over my shoulder at him, feeling my belly flip at the warmth in his eyes when he looks at me.

I turn back to Gina, crossing my arms over my chest. “That’s right. And what I want, right now, is to tell you to go to hell. So guess what?” I take a step forward, feeling Ash’s hand drop from my side as I move into Gina’s personal space, and whisper, “Go to hell.”

I flick my hair over my shoulder and turn away from Gina, a grin spreading across my face. I can practically
feel
it as her glare burns into my back, smack dab between my shoulder blades, but I don’t give a shit. She abandoned Ash when he needed her.

He deserves better.

“Ash, call off your stupid whore,” Gina snaps, but I don’t even turn around to look at her. She isn’t worth my time. “You will listen to me or you will regret it!”

Ash is standing there, leaning against the passenger door of the car, grinning like mad. “I don’t think so, Gina,” he says, but he isn’t looking at her. He’s looking straight at me as he tells her, “You and I are done. For good. I’m with Star now, and she’s right. You should go to hell.”

Behind me, Gina’s still screeching at us, but all I can see is Ash and how good he looks. He grins at me, and lets his gaze wander from my eyes all the way down to my feet and back up again, the suggestion clear in his eyes. I give him a saucy little wink and watch as he throws back his head and laughs.

It’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen. All at once, I want to throw myself at him, wrap my arms around his shoulders and my legs tight around his waist, and French the hell out of him. The need is like a hook in my belly, just below my navel, and it tugs me straight to him.

Oh, what the hell,
I think. And then I do just that.

Ash

T
hat was fucking amazing. I’d never seen Gina’s face look like that in my entire life. It had done some weird thing, like she’d sucked on a lemon while trying to shit a brick at the exact same time. And Star had been classy as fuck while she was putting Gina in her place.

It had been hot as hell, especially right afterward, when Star had wrapped her legs around me, pinning me to the car with her weight. She’d rubbed up against me like a cat, and it made me want to do all
kinds
of things to her. And judging by the things she’d whispered in my ear as Gina had let out a huff and stalked off, I’d be getting to do everything I’d pictured real damn soon.

Especially since one of the things she said was “You know what Ash? Fuck
dancing
. Why don’t you take me home and fuck
me?”

Goddamn,
I think, replaying the scene over again in my mind.
So fucking hot.
I need to drive faster.

Luckily the streets are pretty empty. But it isn’t surprising. It isn’t like Avenue is known for its nightlife. But even though the drive is going pretty quickly, it feels like I’ve already been in the car for an eternity. I’m half tempted to just pull over on the side of the road and pull Star into my lap. Get started on the fun a little bit early.

But when I look over, the suggestion on the tip of my tongue, Star just smiles at me, and my stomach does that weird flippy thing it’s been doing an awful lot lately.

Fuck,
I’m in love with her. Every time I look at her, something moves through me, and all of a sudden I don’t give a shit that she lives two states away. I’ll follow that girl to the end of the earth, if she’ll let me. I reach over and lay my hand on hers on the bench seat between us. Her skin is warm and smooth beneath mine. My hand’s all rough and calloused, especially after all the work we’ve been doing on the house. But hers feels like silk. She flips her hand over under mine, and I link our fingers together. Then I tug our joined hands up, and, looking over at her, I press my lips to the back of her hand.

She squirms a little in her seat and a laugh bubbles up out of her. It sounds like music to me. “Watch the road, jerk,” she says, and I wink at her as she tugs her hand away, and I turn back to the road. The sun is sinking behind the horizon, and the light is getting dim. As we drive, the streetlights start blinking on one by one.

It’s a nice night.

But it’s more than that somehow. It almost feels like a beginning.

Star leans forward and turns on the radio, and as I drive she fiddles with the dials, finally settling on an oldies station. She leans back in her seat, and as soon as she’s out of reach, I reach over and switch it to a classic-rock station. Star turns and says, “Hey!” as AC/DC starts blasting through the speakers. I grin and glance over at her. She’s glaring at me, but I can tell by the smile that’s tugging at her mouth that she doesn’t mean it. Soon enough her glare fades and she rolls her eyes, reaching out and twisting the dial, turning down the volume to a much lower level.

The song ends and the DJ switches over to Metallica and, from deep in the caverns of Star’s bag, her phone rings. She leans forward, digging through it until she finds it, and sits back clutching the phone in her hand. But she doesn’t answer it right away. It just keeps ringing. I look over her. She’s staring down at the screen, her brow furrowing.

I reach over and touch her leg, but she doesn’t look up.

“Hey,” I say, glancing back at the road and then looking back at her. “What is it? What’s wrong?” I trail my hand up her leg to where her free hand rests. I lay my palm over the back of her hand, then trail my finger down until my pinkie is linked with hers.

She just shakes her head and touches her thumb to the screen, answering the call. Bringing it to her ear, she murmurs, “Hello?”

And that’s the last thing I see that makes sense. Suddenly, everything is a cacophony of noise and movement.

Everything around me spins, turning upside down again and again and again. Beside me, Star is screaming, and there’s the sound of metal against metal. Tearing. Cracking. Shattering.

And then, suddenly, everything stops. The chaos is gone. And then there’s nothing but silence and stillness and
pain.

So much pain.

And then all I can see is darkness.

Sometimes, a single second is all it takes.

And everything changes.

Other books

Las puertas de Thorbardin by Dan Parkinson
Ashes to Ashes by Jenny Han
Split Second by Douglas E. Richards
Peter and Alice by John Logan
Desh by Kim Kellas