Page 24

Chapter Twenty-One

Ashland

Spending the night at Koda’s isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I wake up to a phone ringing. I’d rather lay in this bed forever, but I think Koda might be a morning person. He stretches and grabs his phone, answering it.

“Hello,” he mumbles. It lasts all of three seconds before he sets the phone on my face and tucks his head into the back of my shoulder.

“Angel?” I yawn, throwing the phone on speaker.

“I’m dying,” she groans. “I vaguely remember throwing up in the bushes. I have two missed calls from Gavin and a text I’m too scared to open. How do I break up with him?”

“I got it. Just copy and paste.” I devise a text and send it to her.

“Thank God,” she sighs when she sends it. “It’s over. It’s actually over.”

“Now you need to erase his texts, erase pictures, and block his number.”

“Oh no,” she frets.

“I’ll stay on the phone with you.”

“Okay. Okay. I can do this.”

I shut my eyes, doing my best to stay awake and be supportive. “Yes, you can, bitch. Now do it.”

Angel chatters on while she painstakingly deletes two years worth of their terrible relationship.

“Wait,” she panics. “You’re at Koda’s. You don’t have time for this. Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. I have all the time in the world. He’s still sleeping.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Koda’s hand twitches, slowly moving up my hip and tweaking my nipple lightly. Nevermind. He’s not asleep, and the last time I was on the phone in a position with him he didn’t fucking care. I squeak at the touch.

“Are you okay?” Angel asks.

I clear my throat. “Fine. Fine. Keep deleting.”

Koda palms my breast and squeezes, kissing my neck. Goosebumps spread across my skin. He wouldn’t have sex with me last night, but now it’s the morning. I’m still drowsy, but that doesn’t mean shit. I back my ass into him, feeling how hard he is. He groans, making me fucking melt.

“See?” he murmurs into my ear. “Not so bad to spend the night.”

No, it’s not. It’s weird starting my day with him like this, but I like it. A lot. His lips move down my neck over my shoulder, and his hands are everywhere . I back into him again.

“Greedy little slut.”

“Shh.”

He taps the mute button on the phone and slides his hand into my underwear.

“Where were we?” he smirks against my cheek.

“I think you were about to…”

His fingers are soft as they slide through my arousal. My breath quickens. “You should spend the night more often.”

“Maybe sometimes.” I swallow as he dips one inside of me. He’s slow, massaging my clit as my muscles relax.

“I should go. I didn’t realize what time it was,” Angel interrupts. I already forgot she was there. “I’m supposed to get lunch with Prince. Want me to leave your phone in the mailbox?”

I grab the phone and unmute. “Don’t worry about it. I’m proud of you, Angel. Have a drink at brunch. It’ll make you feel better.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” she says excitedly. “I think I fucking will. Thanks, Sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You too, girl.”

The second the phone hangs up Koda is hovering over me, pressing his fingers deeper. “You encouraged her to break up with Whiskey Dick?”

“She needed me to,” I moan. “Wanna ground me, daddy ?” It takes everything in me not to laugh.

“I take it back. Don’t ever say it again,” he chuckles, working in and out. “You can call me God.”

“A fictional character? No problem.”

“I’m very, very real." He circles my clit with force, making me squirm.

“I’ll fucking say.” I lay my head back onto the pillow, looking up at him.

He pulls out and slaps my pussy, making me whine. A wicked grin spreads across his face. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, gimme.” I reach for his waistband.

He slaps my pussy again. “For food, Ash.”

“Fine. Waffles,” I moan.

“Okay.” He swipes his hair out of his eyes, and his fingers return. “Come in my hand, and I’ll make you waffles.”

Who am I to argue? He speeds up his movements and uses his free hand to squeeze my throat. Fuck, I missed this. I can feel my heart beat in my clit. He lets me breathe, kissing me when I come and stealing my moans from me.

“Such a good girl,” he praises.

“Mm, say that again.”

“Good fucking girl, Ashland.”

“Now say it inside of me,” I whisper.

“No, you’re hungover.”

“Ugh, fine.” I roll over onto my stomach and shove my face into the pillows. “But I’m going back to sleep until you throw waffles at me.”

He slaps my ass so hard that I squeal. “That’s fine.”

I doze off and wake up to the smell of syrup and buttery goodness. “Wake up, baby girl.”

My eyes pop open, and Koda has plates full of waffles and butter on a cookie sheet. “Breakfast in bed ? Aren’t you worried about, like, crumbs and syrup?”

He sets the tray onto the duvet and climbs in. “Figured I should probably get used to it since you’ll be here more often, and I don’t see a world where you get up and eat at a table like a civilized human being.”

That’s a serious change for Koda. I might not know everything about him, but I know enough to know that eating in bed is definitely against the rules.

“You keep saying this shit like I’m going to be here all of the time.”

“If I keep feeding you in bed will it make you come back?” He pours syrup across the plates.

“You’re definitely sweetening the deal.” I dig in, swallowing the waffles in huge bites. “I don’t mind taking my sex with a side of waffles.”

He watches me stuff my face until I realize he isn’t eating. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“What? Can’t watch my girlfriend eat breakfast?”

“I’m not your girlfriend.”

“So you don’t want to date me?”

I chug some water. “No. We’re nothing alike."

“How so?”

“I’m tired, Armory. This is great, but you’ve clearly had too many concussions. Maybe go to sleep and don’t wake up.”

“I dare you to go on a date with me,” he challenges.

“Oh my God,” I mutter under my breath, stabbing another piece of fluffy goodness.

“You like me.”

“Yes, you have a fantastic dick, and I like your hand around my throat. Happy?”

“What’s the problem?” he continues.

“The problem,” I grit my teeth, “Is that I’m not some football groupie whore.”

He leans against the headboard and crosses his arms. “No, you’re not.”

I smack my hand onto my forehead. “Oh, I get it. Not like other girls. I see. You’re bothered because I won’t chase you. So then you come and force yourself into my life to try to force me to chase you.”

“Just go on a date with me.”

“No.”

“One date.”

“You’re not going to let me eat waffles in peace, are you?”

“Not a chance. One date. If you hate it, we can limit it to shit like this.”

“And when I hate it you’re still going to dick me down and feed me waffles?” I laugh.

“I will.”

I chew slowly, mulling it over. “Fine. One date. Better try your hardest so I can laugh in your face when it all goes wrong.”

He stabs his fork into a piece and steals it. “You keep thinking that, but you’ll change your mind.”

“What do you mean?” I pause. When I look back at him those coal eyes have returned. There’s a darkness to him that entices me.

“You keep saying that you feel nothing for me, but you do." He shrugs. “You work hard, Ash, you really do, but I work harder.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that I like picking you up from a party. I like waking up next to you. I like watching you purposefully pour syrup all over my sheets even though it bugs me. I like the sex, too. I’m taking you on a date, and it’s going to be the best fucking date you’ve ever been on.”

“Whatever makes you give me waffles and dick.”

He snorts. “You aren’t getting dick until you’re my girlfriend."

“That’s manipulative.”

“That’s not news to you.”

I clear my throat. “Not to change the subject from this super fantastic date you keep droning on about, but why did you take my sketch book?”

“Don’t know. I guess because it was yours.”

“And you looked through it?”

“Yeah, I did.” He takes the tray when it’s empty, and I follow him out of the room.

“And?”

“And what?”

I fall into the couch while he washes dishes. “You didn’t say anything about it.”

He sits next to me on the couch. “You’re not going to answer any questions I ask anyways, so what’s the point?”

“Right. Give me your hand.” I hold mine out expectantly.

He unwillingly obliges. “What are you doing?”

“Reading your palm.”

I flip his hand over and start tracing the lines. Penny and I got a book from a thrift store once, and we decided to try our hand at readings. If anything will annoy Koda, it should be spirituality that he will consider ridiculous.

I run my finger along his palm and he twitches. “This is your head line."

“You’re going to tell me about myself based on my hand?”

“Yup.” I study him, waiting for the next comment, but one doesn’t come.

“Do you know how to actually read my palm?”

I close my eyes and pretend I’m being filled the the Holy Spirit. “Ah, yes, I see it now. You’re a controlling jackass.”

He smirks. “So that’s a no?”

I drop his hand, but he reaches back over and holds onto mine. My heart flutters or something akin to it.

“We read a book once, but I don’t remember any of it. Why? Did you really wanna know?”

“Fuck it. Why not?”

“Really?”

“Yeah." He runs his thumb over the top of my hand. “My mom is a psychic.”

I’ve met one before. A real one. You know they are when they don’t want to be. She didn’t say anything I expected. Didn’t tell me my mother was watching over me or that my father was sorry. Instead, she told me that the moment that my life changed was when I went to a Thanksgiving dinner at a homeless shelter and spoke to the man with the book. I was eight when that happened.

I still think about when she said that. It was the only thing I was able to recover from our trailer, only because I'd hidden it under the dirty carpet in the corner. It has traveled with me all of this time and sits on my bookshelf. When I’m having a bad day, I read it.

The man was poor, like us, in donated church clothes and sneakers. I was never a shy kid. When you’re clawing tooth and nail to survive, you can’t be. We'd set our trays down next to him, and I asked him what he was reading. I was a drawer, not a reader, but I had the best reading comprehension out of everyone in my family, which wasn’t saying much.

He was surprised at first. His food was sitting in front of him, uneaten. The man stuttered, and it didn’t take more than two sentences for me to figure out he had a speech impediment.

It’s still my favorite book. Looking for Alaska. It’s not kid content, but I wasn’t really a kid anymore. I hadn’t been for a long time. When he asked my age he seemed surprised and hesitant. One look at all of us, and he conceded. Memphis kept his mouth shut, grateful that someone else was holding my attention.

I never got his name, or maybe I did and I don’t remember. He went over the book, explaining the themes and teaching me how to identify them. He had highlighted passages and written in the margins. The suffering. The labyrinth. The relationships between the characters. He answered every stupid question I asked with no impatience. At the end of our dinner, Memphis was urging us to leave because if our father got home before us then it would be bad news. The guy handed me the worn out book. Gifted it to me. This man who had nothing gave me something that he valued. That had never happened before.

“She’s a psychic?” I ask skeptically.

“Swear.”

“So you believe in the Universe and shit?”

“Not really.” Koda shrugs. “What do you believe in?”

I think about it only for a moment. He’s seen my sketch book. There isn’t a question as to what those pages contain. “Good and evil. You?”

“Mm,” he rumbles in his chest. “Right and wrong.”

I take the opportunity to get what I want. He wouldn’t fuck me earlier, but if I press the right buttons he will now. I straddle him, and his hands trail my hips lightly. I can feel him underneath me.

“Which one is your favorite?” I whisper into his ear.

He focuses, that sharp jaw fighting the urge to take more. “You.”

“But I’m wrong,” I reason.

“So am I,” he murmurs on my lips.

For a split second I think that he might do it. Koda might give me more, but I’m hoisted into the air and set on my feet. I avoid talking about my shit, but it turns out I’m not the only one. I wonder what happened to make the world so black and white to him. And why the fuck is he so insistent on making me his girlfriend?

“You’ve been in a fucking mood. What’s your deal?”

Penny came to visit for the weekend. Apparently, she has things to do for Valentine’s day, so I had to settle for the weekend before. Since my date with Koda is Saturday, it ended up working out.

“What do you think my deal is?” I snap.

“Geez. Is your boyfriend not dicking you down? I haven’t seen you like this since Freshman year when you tried to go sex sober.”

“He…Ugh,” I growl. “No, he’s not.”

“So that’s why you’re smashing things?” She glances down at the cutting board where a potato, banana, and a carrot are all smashed to hell with a mallet.

“I don’t fucking get it,” I continue, dropping it and leaning back onto the counter. “He’s being a little bitch just because I won’t tell him I’m his girlfriend.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“No, I’m not fucking kidding!”

“Just say you’re his girlfriend. It’s pretty easy. ‘Hi. I’m Ashland. I’m Koda’s girlfriend’. That’s it.”

“We’re exclusive ,” I correct her.

“Oh my God, I cannot with you. Just fucking say it, Ash. It won’t kill you.”

“It will.”

“It won’t.”

“We’re not going to be together for long so there’s no point in putting a label on it.”

“You’re afraid to be broken up with.” That actually makes Penny fucking laugh, and I think about hitting her with the mallet. “I know you’ve got issues, but Koda likes you. A lot. He’s taking you on a fucking date. Just rip off the band-aid, tell him you’re his girlfriend, and have the orgasm of a lifetime.”

“No.”

“You’re being childish. Do I need to put you on Cunt probation?”

“Cunts don’t date.”

“Cunts do date, and they’re cunty about it. It doesn’t mean you can’t be someone’s girlfriend. You have the cunt part down. Just put your name on the relationship and move on. You’ve been spending your time with him anyways. It’s not a big deal. I don’t know what to do with you sometimes.”

“Penny,” I try to level with her. “Koda and I are running on a timer.”

“Then make the most of the timer.”

“I don’t want it, Pen. I don’t fit into Koda’s life like that. I’m not going to make myself do it either.”

“This is not news to me. It seems like Koda is willing to fit into yours, though. That has to count for something. You’re not an easy bitch to be around, and it’s been…what? Six or seven-ish months? The guy has a hard on of the heart.”

“Don’t ever say that again.”

“So just put your big girl pants on, tell him what he wants to hear, and bump uglies.”

We both gag and descend into fits of laughter before gagging again. I wipe tears from my eyes as we lay on the floor. “Add that shit to the list.”

“I think I need to wash my mouth out with soap after that one.”

We lay there head to head, staring at the ceiling. “I feel so lost, Pen.”

She reaches over us and grabs my face. “I’ve got a map and a lantern?”

“A lantern? What is this? The Stone Age?”

“You like the Stone Age you dumb bitch. What is it that makes you think you’re lost?”

“A while ago, you asked me what I want to do in the next few years, and I don’t know. I’ve thought about it, and I don’t fucking know.”

She’s quiet for a moment. “Is that why you’ve been having a hard time?” There’s guilt in her voice.

“I don’t know. I feel like I’m being pulled in so many directions. I didn’t think I would ever make it this far. I’m overwhelmed. I’m seeing Damien—” Shit.

Penny sits up so fast that my hair gets caught in her claw clip. “You’re seeing Damien?”

Fuck. Fuck. Shit.

“Yes," I admit. "In crowds. In allies. In class. He’s everywhere. I thought I was just stressed. I really did.”

Penny looks fucking wounded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought I could figure it out.”

“This is serious, Ashland.” My full name. Ugh. “I could've been trying to help you.”

“I don’t want to go to therapy. I don’t want to hash this all out again. I’m fucking tired.” I start to cry. “I’m so fucking tired all of the time. I’m mentally exhausted. I’m physically exhausted. All of the exhaustions. Damien controls everything in my life, and he isn’t even fucking here. It’s always going to be like this. Always.”

Penny crawls to me across the floor and wraps me in her arms. Then I sob like a big fucking baby.

“Ash." She sets her chin on the crown of my head. “I can’t fix it, and I’m not going to tell you I can. I’m not going to tell you it'll get better, 'cause it might not. I know what Michelle would say. You’re handing him the control, but I know better than that. I still pray sometimes.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I do. I wish eviscerating Damien would fix all of the problems and keep him from living in your head, but that’s our reality, Ash. I wasn’t trying to pressure you about the future. I just want you to be excited for it.”

“I’m trying to be. I’m just having a hard time.”

I don’t tell her about the letter from Memphis. There’s no point. I’m not even sure that it haunts me, even though it’s sitting on my shelf in my room fucking haunting me.

“You know, I looked through your sketch book. The one Koda stole.”

“I know.”

“I’ve never seen you draw Damien before.”

“Really?”

Even though I’m tortured and constantly reminded of the past, I do forget there was a time where I wasn’t with Penny. We’ve always taken the stance that it’s us against the world. Her shit is my shit and vice versa. I suppose I haven’t drawn Damien very much. At first it hurt because I felt like a traitor, after that it hurt because it made me remember, and sometimes it hurt because I saw the things I loved. Now it just hurts.

“He was attractive, wasn’t he?”

“He was. He knew it, too.”

“They make it so confusing that way. You’re so grateful to be precious to them, and they make you feel so fucking special.”

I was special. So was Penny. When you’ve been that fucked up kind of special it makes you really scared to ever be it again.

Penny continues. “It’s okay to feel valued. We both struggle with it, but being valued is supposed to be a good thing. You taught me that. I value you. It’s not as scary as it feels. Koda values you in a good way from what I’ve seen. Being his girlfriend is a good thing if you want it. Ya know, a friend once told me you’re braver than you think.”

“Did you just quote fucking Barbie of Swan Lake?”

“It’s the superior Barbie film,” she argues. “Can I say something before we move on to our delusional reality?”

“Always.”

“I think you should give it a…Chance.”

I close my eyes, wipe my tears, and sit up. “Well, Football Chance roped me into the date. After it sucks, all will be right in the world, and I’ll be biding my time with him until you're back.”

“Mhm. Don’t underestimate him, Ash. He’s determined.”

I grab the bottle of liquor and pour us both drinks. The front door opens. Koda comes in with pizza and Alexi on his heels. Penny glances at me, raising a brow before greeting them.

I didn’t tell Koda to bring us pizza. I also didn’t tell him to bring Penny home to visit. He just did it. She hugs Alexi and starts to fill him in about the internship.

Koda goes to the cabinet to pull out plates like he always does, but his hand hovers over the stack. He’s fighting it. I head over and reach in, pulling them out. We won’t fucking use them but seeing him stressing it is stressing me out. He breathes in a sigh of relief as I hand them over. He sets them down next to the pizza and turns to me.

“Already getting drunk?”

“Is it movie night if we don’t?”

He’s so attractive that it hurts. Things have been less tense between us. He comes into the house and wakes me up for my classes if I don’t fall asleep at his place. I’ve been sleeping in Penny’s room, and I’m pretty sure he thinks it’s mine. We haven’t been having sex, but those are the nights that I don’t have nightmares. Those are the times that I don’t see Damien, and I crave the semblance of peace.

“Do you two need anything else?”

“A male stripper.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’ll be back in the morning to make sure you’re still alive, but I leave Sunday.”

Cunt. Be a cunt, I remind myself.

“Don’t care.”

“Then I’ll be back Tuesday.”

“Still don’t care.”

“You gonna be good until then?”

I grab a slice of pizza and bite into it. “It’s not like you’re giving me dick, so yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t forget our date Saturday.”

“I’m sure you won’t let me.”

I like him. Fuck.