Page 81 of Pieces of Ash

Tig and Anders?

My mother and her eighteen-year-old stepson?

I gasp softly and place the diary back on my bedside table, then I cross my arms over my chest and hold on tightly, letting this new information—and all the questions it raises—sink in.

Tig and Anders. Anders and Tig.

I never saw it. I never even suspected.

I stand up and take a clean bra and underwear from the top drawer.

My god, she was old enough to be his…his…well, no, actually, she wasn’t, I think.

Neither Tig nor I got our first period until we were fourteen, so technically I guess shewasn’told enough to be his mother. But she was still thirteen years older andmarried to his father.

My mother and my stepbrother.

Were they just friends? Lovers?

Mosier would havekilledthem if he’d ever found out. He beat the boys for swimming with me. He barely let them look at us. If he’d known about this, he would have?—

“Ashley? Did you fall back to sleep?”

“N-no!” I yell. “I’m…I’m coming!”

I pull my hair back in a ponytail and head downstairs barefoot, trying to calm the chaos in my head before breakfast.

JULIAN

I think Ashley was hiding from me yesterday.

She came downstairs only once, to give Noelle a hug goodbye in the late afternoon. Well, and at some point, she popped into the kitchen to make a plate of leftovers, but her clean plate was in the drying rack when I came back from my walk with Bruno. Which means, yep, she was hiding from me.

I must have stared at that plate for ten minutes, feeling disappointed and wondering why she was purposely avoiding me. Because we’re developing feelings for each other? Because we kissed? Because we’re alone now?

By late afternoon, it was bothering me so much, I thought about calling upstairs to ask if she wanted to walk over to the pond again, or watch a movie, or go into town for ice cream, but I also wanted to respect her privacy, so I left her alone, falling asleep to thoughts of kissing her and waking up hard.

But this morning, my patience is gone. I want to see her.

Making breakfast and laying it out as prettily as possible is a bribe to get her to come downstairs. Aside from the fact that I am mistrustful of women in general and really need a temperature check, I also want to know what she’s hiding from and if I can help her. Today, more than anything else, my mission is Ashley.

“Good morning,” she says, stepping into the kitchen wearing her usual uniform—gray T-shirt, jeans, and bare feet. Her blonde hair is up in a ponytail, her blue eyes are shining, and fuck my life, she is the prettiest fucking thing I have ever seen.

“Hey,” I say, gesturing to the breakfast I’ve laid out on the island. “Hungry?”

I feel her pleasure in my gut when her eyes widen and her lips part. She looks up at me and offers a small, surprised smile. “Oh, wow! Yes. Thank you.”

“Tea?”

“Yes, please,” she says, her feet soundless as she walks over to the island and pulls out a stool.

I keep my back to her from where I’m standing in front of the Keurig. “Hey…were you avoiding me yesterday?”

“Maybe just feeling a little shy after…”

I wait until the tea is made, then turn back to find her sitting at one of the two set places, blue eyes wide.

“Kissing?” I ask.