Nothing Left to Lose (24 page)

Peter Burnet,
the night time far guard, met us with a little sign at the baggage
collection point. He was younger than I expected, probably only
mid-twenties. Clearly he liked to work out, that was evident by his
broad shoulders and thick neck. He smiled nervously when we stopped
at his side; his eyes scanned the group quickly before coming to a
rest on Anna.

After a brief
round of introductions, he led us out the front where a sleek,
silver Jaguar XF sat waiting for us. My eye twitched at the beauty
of it, and my hands were already itching to touch it. A smile
tugged at the corner of my mouth. If my best friend Nate could see
me now, he’d probably scream like a little girl. Dean and Peter
didn’t get a flash car like ours though, much to Dean’s obvious
disappointment.

The drive to
our new apartment wasn’t that long. I tried to memorise the streets
as I let the GPS lead me to the college campus. When we arrived, I
pulled into an underground parking lot and cut the engine,
surveying the area before walking around to her side and opening
the door for her.

Peter and Dean
had arrived by then too, so we all made our way to the elevator
with Peter telling us about the security on the building. Other
than the fire escapes that only opened from the inside, there was
one way in and out, which would be advantageous for surveillance.
You could only gain entrance to the building with a tag card, and
then you also needed a pass code to use the elevator or stairs. The
building itself had obviously been chosen carefully.

When we got to
the second floor, I left Anna outside with Dean and Peter while I
went into our apartment to check it was safe before I let her just
wander in. My eyes widened in appreciation as I took in the
expensive-looking hardwood floors, the perfect paint jobs and the
enormous flat screen TVs that hung in each room. The
fully-equipped, high-gloss, white kitchen was pure luxury. The
apartment was huge and stunning.

After checking
out all of the rooms and deeming them safe, I went back to get her
and let her get her first look at our home for the next eight
months. Peter went down to get the luggage from the car.

“Wow, this
place is gorgeous,” Anna enthused, walking in and opening all the
doors that she came across, looking in them. When we got to the
bedrooms, she turned and winced. “There’s no sofa bed. We’re gonna
have to order one.”

I frowned,
flicking my eyes around seeing that she was right. I’d requested
one, but perhaps the request had been overlooked. I’d have to make
a couple of calls later. “Looks like it’s the floor for me again
then,” I joked, trying not to wince, because sleeping on the floor
made me feel like an old man.

She turned back
to the bed and frowned. “You can just share with me if you want. I
don’t like you keep sleeping on the floor,” she mumbled.

I waved my hand
dismissively. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Shall we unpack
then?” I suggested, dreading unpacking all of her stuff again.

She shook her
head adamantly. “Nope. Something much more critical needs to be
done before that,” she answered, raising one eyebrow knowingly.

Hmm, what
can be more important than unpacking?
“What’s that then, Baby
Girl?” I asked curiously.
Damn, Ashton, again with the pet name?
Stop it, dipshit!

She smirked at
me. “We need to go collect menus from all the takeout places that
deliver because I’m not cooking for your pretty ass every
night.”

I burst out
laughing. “Hey, I’ll cook some nights,” I protested.

She scrunched
her nose up in distaste. “Tuna melt baked potatoes can get boring
pretty quick.” I smiled because she’d obviously listened to me
carefully before; she seemed to remember everything I told her, no
matter how insignificant it was.

“Tell me about
it. Come on then, I’ll call Dean and let him know we’re going for a
walk,” I agreed, pulling out my cell and dialling his number.

“Tell him we’re
going for a drink after too.”

I raised one
eyebrow. College clearly had an effect on her – or maybe it was the
freedom of being away from her parents. Whatever it was, she was
smiling and it made my insides tingle with happiness.

After about an
hour of wandering around picking up menus for the local takeout
places, I decided we had enough. I really needed a drink. My eyes
landed on a bar across the street, and I guided Ashton in that
direction. I ignored the peeling paint on the sign and the broken
glass panel on one side. They served alcohol, and that was all I
cared about. I looked up at Ashton hopefully.

He frowned, his
eyes flicking between me and the crappy bar. “You wanna go in
here?” he asked, looking at it distastefully.

I laughed at
his expression. “Snob.”

“Anna, this
doesn’t look like a nice bar,” he protested, narrowing his eyes at
the door.

“Please?” I
whined, pouting.

He sighed in
defeat and pulled out his cell phone, calling Dean to tell him
because he was standing at the end of the street, waiting for us.
“Come on then, but stay with me, no bathroom breaks,” he said
sternly.

I nodded
excitedly. I hadn’t been to a bar for ages. I went through a stage
when I first got away from Carter of sneaking out and going to bars
and getting drunk, but that had been well over two years ago now.
Lately, I’d pretty much been a recluse.

The bar was an
absolute dive, but the drinks were cheap. There was a load of
people that looked like students, so they were probably from my
college because the campus was only a couple of minutes’ walk from
here. The owner obviously didn’t think twice about serving underage
people.

“So, what do
you drink?” Ashton asked, dragging me to the bar.

“Whatever’s on
offer.”

“Orange juice?”
he suggested.

I laughed and
shook my head. “I want a real drink.”

A disapproving
frown settled on his forehead. “You’re not old enough,” he
whispered, tracing his hand down my back. “I could get into trouble
for buying you alcohol.”

I pouted,
begging him with my eyes. “Please? I have a fake ID. I always
drink. Please?”

He rolled his
eyes. “One drink,” he conceded. “Want wine or something?”

I smiled and
shrugged, but when the barman came over, I ordered two double Jack
Daniels and cokes. Ashton looked at me shocked and then ordered an
orange juice too. “Who’s the orange juice for?” I asked, pushing
one of the drinks towards him.

“For me. I
can’t drink while I’m on duty, so it looks like I’m t-total for the
next few months,” he replied, shrugging and pushing the drink back
towards me.

I gasped. That
wasn’t fair at all. “Aww, come on, you can drink. Nothing’s gonna
happen. This whole freaking guard idea is just stupid anyway!” I
ranted, feeling like a spoiled brat.

He looked a
little pained about something before he rearranged his expression.
“No, Anna, you need guards so you don’t get expelled,” he joked,
chinking his glass against mine, grinning. “Cheers.” I sighed and
downed one of the drinks straight away; I didn’t want to be
carrying two glasses around with me. “Oh man, you’re not one of
those
drinkers, are you?” he asked, looking a little
horrified.

“One of
what
drinkers?” I grimaced from the alcohol after-burn.

He grinned,
winking at me. “The ones that really can’t handle their drink and
throw up over their boyfriends when they carry them home.”

I chuckled at
his joke. “You never know, there’s a first time for everything. Oh
and, by the way, if you see anyone you like and want to go for a
quickie in the bathroom then let me know first so I’m not wandering
around looking for you,” I said seriously, downing my next drink.
We definitely needed to make that rule clear before it happened,
because I didn’t want to be looking for him all night long. His
mouth dropped open, making a pop sound as he looked at me, stunned.
I frowned. The two drinks in quick succession were already making
me feel slightly tipsy. “Jeez Ashton, I won’t throw up on you, I
promise,” I vowed, laughing.

“I wasn’t
thinking about that,” he retorted, frowning at me, looking annoyed
about something.

“Well, what
then, Pretty Boy?” I asked, waving to get the barman’s attention
again as I ordered two more doubles and slid a twenty dollar bill
across the bar.

Ashton shook
his head in annoyance. “Anna, I’m not gonna leave you to go have
sex with some girl at a bar! Is that what you really think of me?”
he asked, looking a little hurt.

I raised an
eyebrow.
Honestly? Yes.
He’d slept with me after three days
and, technically, I was his boss, my guess was that he’d sleep with
a girl he met in a bar – or wherever the hell else he met her.

“Oh come on,
Ashton, we both know that you’re a player. You’re too damn pretty
not to sleep around,” I teased. “I mean, damn, you got me into bed
after three days, and I can’t even give out a handshake without
flinching. You must be kick-ass at the art of seduction.” I giggled
and downed my next drink.

“Did you ever
think that maybe that means something? That maybe we’re meant to be
together and that’s why you let me touch you the first time I ever
met you?” he asked, looking at me intently.

He looked so
serious; a dark, sexy, brooding look was etched on his face. I
smiled and stepped forward, putting my hand up to his face and
smoothing out his forehead with my fingertips. “Careful, you’ll get
wrinkles on your pretty face,” I teased, going up on tiptoes and
kissing his cheek. “Pool?” I offered, walking off towards the back
where the pool cues were mounted on the wall.

He laughed
quietly. “You play pool?” he asked, wrapping his arm around my
waist as I walked up the stairs unsteadily.

“Nope,” I
replied, popping the p and grinning. “Wanna give me a lesson on how
to handle a stick?” I purred, holding it suggestively.

He smiled
weakly. “Anna, please don’t be getting all drunk and flirting with
me, that’s not on,” he warned, grinning and shaking his head.

“You shouldn’t
be so sexy then, and then I wouldn’t want to flirt with you.”

He chuckled,
smirking in my direction. “Right, I’ll get to work on that and
solve any issues you have with my sexiness.”

I grinned.
“Okay, if I’m not allowed to flirt with you, who should I flirt
with? You scope out the bar and find me a suitable candidate,” I
joked, stepping to his side.

“Okay.” He
tapped his chin and looked around the bar. His eyes settled on an
old man who was sitting in the corner playing chess with a friend.
“Oh, old guy, three o’clock. He looks like he’d enjoy a bit of
flirting from a pretty, young thing,” he teased, grinning at
me.

“Hmm, I do like
an older man, but maybe I should go for someone younger than my
dad? He does like to call people ‘son’, so I don’t think it would
go down terribly well if I brought home someone old enough to be
his
dad.”

Ashton laughed
and collected all of the balls, putting them inside a black,
plastic triangle. “How about these guys right here, coming up to
talk to you,” he suggested, looking over my shoulder. I glanced
around and, sure enough, two guys were coming over to us, both
smiling. They were both about our age and judging by their ripped
jeans and T-shirts, I would say they were college students too. One
of them had strawberry blond hair and brown eyes, and the other was
slightly taller than the first and darker in complexion, with brown
hair and dark brown eyes. As they approached, I quickly moved to
Ashton’s side and he stood up straighter, a small smile playing at
the corner of his mouth.

“Hey, wanna
play doubles?” the strawberry blond asked, smiling and nodding
towards the pool table.

Ashton smiled
politely. “Anna? Wanna play doubles?” he asked, wrapping his arm
around me. His touch made me feel better instantly.

“Um, yeah
okay,” I agreed, shrugging.

“Great, I’m
Tim. This is Rich,” the blond said, grabbing a cue.

“I’m Ashton.
This is my girlfriend, Anna,” Ashton replied, smiling and
nodding.

The guy called
Rich stepped forward. “How about loser buys the next drink?” he
suggested.

I laughed. “Are
you guys trying to hustle us for drinks?”

Rich laughed.
“No way, babe. All the tables are taken, that’s all. If you don’t
want to play, we’ll wait until you’re done. I was just trying to
make the game more interesting.”

“I don’t think
we should play for drinks, I’ve never played pool in my life,” I
admitted, downing my drink and pushing the glass onto the side.

Rich laughed.
“You haven’t? Then I think we should definitely be playing for
drinks,” he joked. “Or phone numbers?” he offered, raising one
eyebrow.

Ashton’s hand
closed over mine, pulling me closer to him. “She has enough
numbers,” he answered for me. “Want to play or not because if
you’ve just come over here to hit on my girlfriend, then you’re
shit out of luck because she’s not interested.” His voice was stern
and warning. You could almost hear the cop in his tone, or maybe
that was just me because I knew that’s what he was.

Tim held up his
hands innocently and shook his head. “Hey, no problem, we only want
to play pool,” he assured Ashton, jabbing an elbow into Rich’s
stomach in warning. “Ignore him, he can’t help himself. When he
drinks he gets verbal diarrhoea and tries to chat up anything that
moves.”

“I’ll stay
still then,” I joked, which seemed to diffuse some of the tension
in Ashton. He smiled and laughed, his shoulders loosening as he
rolled his eyes.