Page 84
Story: Desiring an Angel
“Don’t tell Ash,” she rushed to whisper. “He’ll be worried. I don’t want to upset him. But without a cell, I can’t check online to find the cost of cell phones. I don’t even have much cash to get an Uber to take me to a cell phone store when it’ll probably be a waste of time because I don’t have money for one anyway.”
I stood silent, drying dishes as she blathered on about finances. My usual suspicions when it came to women attempting to get more from me and Ash than a hookup rose to life in my mind—not for the first time.
Or perhaps I grasped at straws to find reasons the triad wouldn’t work.
Yes, Skylar seemed genuine most of the time, but I wondered how much of the attention she showed Ash and attempted to give me came from a heartfelt place.
Was she after handouts? Ash already spoiled her plenty by offering her a place to live and feeding her.
Did she truly care about Ash at all? It might appear so, but neither of us knew her well enough to trust her intentions. She’d been kicked out of her sister’s house, desperate for someone to step in and rescue her.
My forehead dented at the possibility she put on a show, one we’d seen a couple of times before feelings got tangled up. Ash would be devastated to learn she’d lied. While I didn’t mind being his rock to lean on when emotion overwhelmed him, my guts tightened over the thought of him having to face more grief and heartache.
Skylar continued to spew her woes since I’d asked for her mouth faucet to turn on, but I tuned her out.
She needed to take her manager’s mother-in-law up on the payment plan and get herself sorted to ensure she kept her job and started saving money in order to find her footing financially.
Noise filled my ears, and the need to escape moved me to hang up the damp hand towel and walk away without excusing myself.
I’d been called a coldhearted bastard more than once in my lifetime, and I owned that shit since I seemed unable to empathize or take pity on people.
Skylar’s words cut off mid-sentence as I left her alone in the kitchen, desperately needing the silence of my office.
I shut the door firmly behind me.
“Goddamm.” Weariness took root in my ears and slid down my spine. I sat hard on my chair, releasing a heavily grunted exhale.
Blessed fucking silence I never got enough of anymore.
I couldn’t imagine what our acquaintances were going to think of our houseguest and her constant whiplash-inducing chatter.
We would have a houseful in a couple of weeks to celebrate Ash’s birthday. Since he enjoyed socializing, I always packed our home full of people to take his mind off the fact he celebrated every year without Archer. His birthday tended to be the second worst day of the year beyond the anniversary of his brother’s death.
I’d already set that plan into motion from caterers to decorations and invitations—and I couldn’t imagine what kind of ripples Skylar would make amongst our guests.
The usual cocktail-sipping, upper class, quiet conversationalists we’d come to know in the area would stare at Skylar as she prattled on and wonder what the fuck we were thinking bringing her into our lives.
Personally, I could do without the acquaintances we’d surrounded ourselves with, but Ash enjoyed having a social life. People to interact with and bring a little supposed happiness to our life.
I didn’t need anyone but him.
My cell dinged, and I actually grinned at seeing Colton’s name.
Too bad he didn’t live closer—I’d have loved to hang with friends outside the uppity ones we would wine and dine at Ash’s party.
Colton: I need to vent, and since you’ll give shit to me straight, I want your ear. Call me so I can annoy you.
Snickering, I dialed his number.
“You know me too well,” I said when he answered.
“Yeah, which is why I trust you to figure out a plan and tell me what the fuck to do.”
“What’s going on?” I settled back in my chair.
“Remember that variety I used to enjoy? Well, my dick has decided it’s tired of being a playboy.”
I barked an outright laugh.
I stood silent, drying dishes as she blathered on about finances. My usual suspicions when it came to women attempting to get more from me and Ash than a hookup rose to life in my mind—not for the first time.
Or perhaps I grasped at straws to find reasons the triad wouldn’t work.
Yes, Skylar seemed genuine most of the time, but I wondered how much of the attention she showed Ash and attempted to give me came from a heartfelt place.
Was she after handouts? Ash already spoiled her plenty by offering her a place to live and feeding her.
Did she truly care about Ash at all? It might appear so, but neither of us knew her well enough to trust her intentions. She’d been kicked out of her sister’s house, desperate for someone to step in and rescue her.
My forehead dented at the possibility she put on a show, one we’d seen a couple of times before feelings got tangled up. Ash would be devastated to learn she’d lied. While I didn’t mind being his rock to lean on when emotion overwhelmed him, my guts tightened over the thought of him having to face more grief and heartache.
Skylar continued to spew her woes since I’d asked for her mouth faucet to turn on, but I tuned her out.
She needed to take her manager’s mother-in-law up on the payment plan and get herself sorted to ensure she kept her job and started saving money in order to find her footing financially.
Noise filled my ears, and the need to escape moved me to hang up the damp hand towel and walk away without excusing myself.
I’d been called a coldhearted bastard more than once in my lifetime, and I owned that shit since I seemed unable to empathize or take pity on people.
Skylar’s words cut off mid-sentence as I left her alone in the kitchen, desperately needing the silence of my office.
I shut the door firmly behind me.
“Goddamm.” Weariness took root in my ears and slid down my spine. I sat hard on my chair, releasing a heavily grunted exhale.
Blessed fucking silence I never got enough of anymore.
I couldn’t imagine what our acquaintances were going to think of our houseguest and her constant whiplash-inducing chatter.
We would have a houseful in a couple of weeks to celebrate Ash’s birthday. Since he enjoyed socializing, I always packed our home full of people to take his mind off the fact he celebrated every year without Archer. His birthday tended to be the second worst day of the year beyond the anniversary of his brother’s death.
I’d already set that plan into motion from caterers to decorations and invitations—and I couldn’t imagine what kind of ripples Skylar would make amongst our guests.
The usual cocktail-sipping, upper class, quiet conversationalists we’d come to know in the area would stare at Skylar as she prattled on and wonder what the fuck we were thinking bringing her into our lives.
Personally, I could do without the acquaintances we’d surrounded ourselves with, but Ash enjoyed having a social life. People to interact with and bring a little supposed happiness to our life.
I didn’t need anyone but him.
My cell dinged, and I actually grinned at seeing Colton’s name.
Too bad he didn’t live closer—I’d have loved to hang with friends outside the uppity ones we would wine and dine at Ash’s party.
Colton: I need to vent, and since you’ll give shit to me straight, I want your ear. Call me so I can annoy you.
Snickering, I dialed his number.
“You know me too well,” I said when he answered.
“Yeah, which is why I trust you to figure out a plan and tell me what the fuck to do.”
“What’s going on?” I settled back in my chair.
“Remember that variety I used to enjoy? Well, my dick has decided it’s tired of being a playboy.”
I barked an outright laugh.
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