Page 49 of Broken Beauty

I have to remember that he wants more, not just a stupid summer fling anymore like when we first started this.

But I can't help but try my best to keep my guard up. I want to have more with Ash but I'm scared.

Bridgette managed to call me last night and tell me how her summer is going. She told me all about her England summer fling and how hot he is. She found out that I went to New York and she was begging for me to tell her who I went with.

I'm definitely not giving her any of that information.

She is having fun in England though. Her parents are taking her to the soccer game that they are holding out there. I’m not much of a fan of soccer though.

I was always into volleyball.

The sound of banging on my door makes me lift my head from my pillow and look at the window across from me.

I get up and wrap my throw blanket around my body as I stand near the window and look outside.

My eyes widen when I see a familiar black motorcycle parked in the front.

“Ariella! Get your ass down here and unlock the fucking door!” Ash yells loudly. I squeal and run out of my room, downstairs and in front of the locked front door. It's locked. Thank God. “Ariella! If you don't open the door, I swear to God I'll break it down!”

Thank God my father isn't home.

He's been in France for the past month because of some vacation he is taking with some mystery girl who happens to be the girl he spent the last few weeks of my mother's life with before she died.

I rush to open the door and when it's wide open my eyes go straight towards Ash whose eyes are filled with darkness and heat.

So much darkness and heat.

“Ash-“

“Three fucking days, Ariella,” Ash says before taking one step inside of the house. “Three days, no call and no text from you.” Once he is fully inside of the house, he closes the door behind him and he rips the blanket away from my body and turns me around so that he can pin me against the front door. “Three fucking days, Ariella. Tell me what you were doing in those three days and why you didn't text me or call me once. Why?”

Seeing Ash like this, with his whole body tensed and his eyes filled with a darkness I've never seen before. His jaw is clenched and his hands in fists.

I notice the scratches and cuts on his knuckles making my eyebrows furrow.

It makes me want to kiss every single inch of his body and caress the tense muscles that are probably aching.

I reach down and take his hand in mine, inspecting the small cuts. “What did you do to your hands?” I ask but Ash takes his hand away from mine making me look up at him.

“Fuck the hands, Ariella. Answer the fucking questions.”

I glare at him and cross my arms over my chest. “I needed some time to myself alone. You are crowding my space and my mind. I just need to breathe Ash.”

“So, you just ignore my texts and calls? At least fucking tell me that you want space from me Ariella, not just ghost me.” Ash's hand cups my cheek softly and he lifts my head to make me look up at him. “Is it because we had sex?” I feel my cheeks heat up and I try to turn my head to not look at Ash but he doesn't let me. “Tell me.”

I sigh and rest my head against the wall behind me. “I just- I'm scared,” I admit. “I've never done this before and I just don't want to get hurt. That's the whole reason why I decided to do the summer bucket list with someone I won't have to see ever again.”

Ash sighs and shakes his head lightly as he caresses my cheek with his fingers.

Overthinking has always been a big problem for me. I've never been the type of person to think about things rationally because I try to prepare myself for the worse. I'm used to bad things happening to me ever since mom died.

And one of the things my mother always told me to guard myself around was boys because they are the most dangerous type of hurt.

They can wreck your heart and tear your soul in half without even realizing.

My mother and father have always had a good relationship but it took them a while to get there. My mom got hurt a lot in the process but she told me that she wouldn't change a thing because she loved my dad with all her heart.

I know my father loved her so much. He loved her entirely and truly. Ever since she died, he lost a big part of himself. I lost him.