Page 52 of Broken Beauty

It became a thing me and mom did once every other month when dad would leave for business trips. But if I wanted to do the weed brownies with her, she told me that I had to not do any drugs or smoke weed without her. She told me she didn't want me doing that because she wanted me to focus on my school and that drugs can become a huge distraction.

Along with boys.

“Smells like you're having fun.”

I turn my head to the entrance of the kitchen and I see Ash leaning against the open doorway.

I managed to find Ash's sweatpants and shirt that he left here once during the summer.

I really didn't want to give them to him because the sweatpants are really comfortable and the shirt is one of my favorite shirts to sleep in, but I wouldn't tell Ash that. So, I just gave them to him.

Ash isn't wearing the shirt though, just the sweat pants.

I try not to ogle his chest and abs for too long.

His body looks like it was sculpted by God's specific hands. God took his time on Ash, one look and that’s obvious.

My eyes go to the familiar tattoo on his ribcage and my stomach once again fills with butterflies as I stare at the tattoo. All of a sudden, the tattoo I have on the side of my ribcage starts to burn.

I know Ash can feel me staring at the tattoo but he won't bring it up, because if he did then we would have to actually have that conversation that we both don't want to have.

“Weed brownies.” I say before looking away from Ash and going back to mixing the batter.

I hear Ash's footsteps come closer until I feel his body right next to mine. His natural body heat against my bare arms makes me want to curl into his chest and hug him forever.

His embrace might be one of the safest places I have been. He always felt so safe and even now I know that he won't let anything hurt me.

Whenever I am with Ash, I know that he will protect me from anything except himself, which I sometimes don't mind because I have always felt the pleasure rush through my veins and excited when it came to Ash.

“I remember you telling me about how your mom and you used to make baked goods with weed in them.”

I can't help but smile.

Yea, I remember telling that to Ash. I loved talking about my mom with Ash because he just listened and asked questions. He never pushed me too far about her or her death. He never made me feel uncomfortable when it came to talking about her.

I stop mixing the brownies and start to put the mix into the baking dish.

“Cooking makes me feel closer to her. I feel like cooking and doing things that I used to do with her, makes me feel like she is here with me.”

“I know. I remember you told me,” Ash says. “I remember you telling me all of the bakery desserts you used to make and then the adventures you went on. I know you made that bucket list for the summer so that you can somewhat feel closer to her and like she is actually here with you, experiencing those some of those things.”

I look away from the baking dish and focus my attention on Ash.

I can't believe he remembers all of that.

I have to remind myself that he doesn't care though and he never will.

That's not who Ash is.

“I didn't think you would remember all of that.” I put the mixing dish down and then put the baking dish inside the oven.

“I remember every little detail about you, Ariella. I just don't show it.”

“Why not?”

“Are we both ready to have that conversation right now?” Ash says, making me look up at him. He is leaning the side of his body against the counter and his arms are crossed over his chest making his biceps appear ten times larger. “Stop eye fucking me and answer the question. Are we both ready to have that conversation? Because I will gladly start talking.”

I look away from Ash and move to put the mixing dish inside the sink. “No, we're not.”