Текст книги "All It Takes"

Автор книги: Sadie Munroe

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

I whip around to look at Star, but she’s already laughing. “What. The. Fuck?” I demand.

She just shakes her head, sending her dark hair tumbling around her bare shoulders. Great. Now I’m terrified and turned on at the same time. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Autumn and I aren’t really Roth’s type. If you know what I mean . . . ” She waggles her eyebrows at me. It takes me a shameful amount of time to realize what she’s trying to communicate here.

“You mean . . . ?” I say, and my hands make a weird gesture on their own before I can stop them, my face burning. Fuck. I don’t think I’ve blushed this much since I was a little kid and my friend Johnny told Katie Jenkins that I wanted to kiss her. Which, whatever. It was true. She was adorable. Didn’t want to give me the time of day, though, much to my shame. It sucked being the short kid.

Still kinda does, especially when Star’s friend the BTK killer has a good six inches and probably twenty pounds on me. It’s a little intimidating. I’m man enough to admit that.

But she just smiles at me. “Gay as Christmas,” she confirms, and turns back to the box she was working on, grabbing the flaps and folding them one over the other, so that the box is sealed closed.

“Oh,” I say. “Okay.” I turn back to what I’m supposed to be doing, gathering up obvious trash and stuffing it in one of the bajillion garbage bags that are hanging around the house. When I first saw how many she’d bought, I’d laughed, thinking we’d be using them ’til Judgment Day. Now I’m just hoping we have enough. We’ve already been getting dirty looks from people when we go into town. I don’t think that buying out every box of garbage bags in the place is going to endear us to them any further. But as I gather stuff up and shove it into the bag, her words play over and over in my mind, like a record with a skip. I’m missing something. I know I am.

All at once it hits me.

“Wait!” I cry out, louder than I intended to. “How does that help me?” If what Mr. Psychopath said about serial killers is true . . .

Star just grins at me. “You’ve been to prison Ash,” she says. “Toughen up a little.” Then she throws her curtain of long, inky-black hair over her shoulder, picks up the box she was working on and walks out of the room.

Goddamn, I think, feeling the confusing scared/turned on feeling well up inside me as I watch her body sway as she walks away. I’m in way over my head.

Star

“So . . . ?” Autumn sidles up next to me, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. I blink at her.

“So?” I prompt, pulling open another box. I peer down at the contents. Old magazines. Again. I sigh and replace the lid and pull one of the permanent markers out of my pocket. I use my teeth to uncap it, and scrawl garbage in crooked letters across the top before hefting the box to the side and starting on the next one. The sheer amount of money my mother spent on magazines astounds me. I could have paid my entire first year’s tuition just on what I’ve found so far. And most of it was going straight into the trash. We’d salvaged what we could, and had filled up bin after bin of recycling, but the terrible condition of most of the stuff made it impossible to save.

“Soooo . . . ?” Autumn draws out the word like it’s full of syllables, which, considering she’s an English major, she should know better. I turn and look over my shoulder at her. She’s bouncing on her toes like a little kid with a secret. Oh god. “What’s going on with you and Ash?”

My eyes go wide and I scan the room to see if he overheard her, but he’s off in the dining room, working his way through the leaning tower of newspapers, and luckily he doesn’t look up. I turn back to her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I hiss under my breath, hoping against hope that she’ll take the hint and be quiet.

Unfortunately, my panic doesn’t seem to register, and she keeps going. “I mean the looks between the two of you . . . ” She waggles her eyebrows at me, grinning. “It’s like there’s fireworks going off in the room every time you meet each other’s eyes.”

“Shut. Up.” I mutter as quietly as possible, and look over my shoulder at Ash, just to make sure he can’t hear her. But he still isn’t looking at us. Instead he’s staring down at one of the newspapers, and the sheets of newsprint are trembling a little in his hands. My brow furrows, and I move to take a step closer, to reach out and ask him what’s wrong. But before I can take a single step, he shakes his head like he’s coming out of a fog and tears the top page off the newspaper. As I watch, he tosses the rest of the paper aside and slowly, carefully, folds up the piece he tore off and slides it into his pocket.

What on earth?

Autumn nudges me, but I don’t turn back to her. Not yet. Instead I watch as Ash takes a deep breath and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes for a moment. Then he lets out a sigh and scrubs his fingers up through his hair, leaving the pale strands sticking up in wild tufts.

“Hey, Ash . . . ?” The words are out of my mouth so quickly I can’t believe I’m the one who actually uttered them. Ash reacts with a jolt and turns to look at me, and I can see something in his eyes for a brief second, something almost haunted, before he manages to compose himself and nod at me. “You okay?” But I can see from here that no matter how he answers, the real answer is no. He’s not okay.

But he just nods and I let it go. Whatever’s bothering him, it’s not my place to bring it up in front of Autumn. If he wants to tell me, he’ll tell me. If not, well . . . that’s his decision.

He reaches down and hefts up the rest of the pile of newspaper, a stack about a foot and a half high, and makes his way toward the door. His path brings him right past Autumn and I, and as he passes I reach over and run a hand down his arm. Our eyes meet and we pause there for a second, frozen in our own little world.

“Fireworks,” Autumn says, and my entire body jolts and I yank my hand away like it’s been burned. I turn and glare at her, but she just smirks at me.

“What’s that?” Ash says, confusion lacing his voice.

“Nothing,” I mutter, and try to turn away and go back to work before I’m forced to kill my former roommate in cold blood. My heart is slamming so hard in my chest that it’s a wonder no one else can hear it. To me, it’s absolutely thundering. Dammit, Autumn.

But she isn’t done, and I have yet to figure out how to kill people with my brain, so she turns to Ash and I can feel her sunbeam-smile from where I’m standing, even though my back is turned. “Fireworks,” she says, and pauses because she’s trying to kill me. Just as I’m about to whirl around and drag her out of the room kicking and screaming—and probably laughing her ass off—she continues. “I was just telling Star that Roth and I are taking you guys out to see the fireworks tonight.”

Wait. What? I turn to look at her, and I’m more than a little concerned when I see the glint in her eye.

“Fireworks,” Ash says, like the word is unfamiliar to him and he’s testing it out for the first time. I catch his eye and we come to a silent agreement that Autumn is insane. At least, I think that’s what that look means.

“Yup,” Autumn says, her voice light and perky, turning herself into a bouncy cotton-candy-for-brains version of herself, which she always does when she’s lying and doesn’t want to get caught. I’m going to kill her for this. Dead. Gone. And then I’m taking her book collection.

And burning it, out of spite.

Well, not all of it. There’s a bunch I want for myself.

“We saw a flyer when we were heading to the B&B last night,” she says. “Apparently there’s a big fireworks festival down at the beach tonight, and we thought it’d be fun for all of us to go watch it.” She turns to me and pins me with what I’m hoping isn’t as super-obvious a look as I think it is.

“Together,” she adds. Because she’s evil.

Ash

I haven’t seen fireworks since I was a kid, so I can’t be sure, but I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed them as much as I did tonight. And I barely even looked at the explosions. I was too distracted by Star.

I don’t know what it was. Maybe it was how relaxed she was, how happy she was to be around her friends, but she was glowing nearly as brightly as the fireworks themselves.

Autumn had insisted that heading down to the fireworks was necessary, and she’d had this look in her eye that even my own mom had never quite been able to pull off with me. The one that said you’re doing this and you will not argue. Or else. But honestly, until she’d said something, I hadn’t even remembered that the town did fireworks every year, even though it made total sense. Who didn’t do fireworks on the Fourth of July? But if someone had just asked me out of the blue if I was interested, the answer would have been fuck no.

But she hadn’t asked me first. She’d asked Star. And, after the initial shock on her face had passed, the smile that had spread across Star’s face turned my answer from fuck no to hell yes before I could blink. Before I’d even realized what was happening, all four of us were bundled into serial-killer-dude’s truck with a blanket, a bottle of Autumn’s homemade wine, a couple six-packs and a grocery bag full of hot dogs and buns. I was going to leave Bruiser tied up in the backyard, but Star had been afraid that the fireworks would scare him off—which, okay, they hadn’t bothered him as a puppy, but he’d been on his own for years while I was in prison; I had no idea what would freak him out now—and told me to bring him along.

It was almost worth it for the prissy look on killer-boy’s face at the thought of my big, dirty dog in the cab of his truck, but I really wasn’t all that willing to push my luck with him. Star seemed to think he was cool, but I still wasn’t so sure. So I hopped up into the flatbed with Bruiser for the ride.

But Bruiser is already ass-over-ankles for Star, and the second we get there and she hops down from the cab, he is up and over the side, bee-lining for her. She laughs and ruffles his ears before standing up and tugging her hoodie tighter around her sweet little body. It takes everything I have not to go over and offer to keep her warm.

Instead, I just lean back against a big rock not far from where they have laid out the blanket, and smoke. The beach is already packed with people, even though dusk has barely set, and our little group ended up on the outskirts of the sand, near where the beach met the forest. Even though we are on the edge of the crowd, we still get looks. After half a dozen people pass us by and pin me with a side-eyed glare that says they know exactly who I am and what I’ve done, I almost bail, ready to tell the others I want to head back. But then I see Star, how happy she is, how good her smile and skin look in the fading sunlight, and I can’t do it. I stay. I keep myself separate, so that the glares from the good people of Avenue are directed at me and not at the group, but I stay.

Damn, I want to join Star on that blanket, though. And maybe do a little more than just watching the fireworks go boom. But she is laughing and eating and drinking with her friends, and I am happy enough just watching her do it.

They are sprawled across the blanket. Roth on one end, poking at the little fire he got going while doing a fairly fine impression of nursing a beer without actually drinking any of it; Autumn in the middle, all bundled up against the cool night air. And then there is Star. Hot as hell in the little ass-hugging shorts she’s been wearing all day, wrapped up in a black hoodie that is about two sizes too big for her. Her legs are all stretched out in front of her, and even my damn dog has weaseled his way in there. He is lying half on and half off the blanket, but his head is resting on my dream girl’s upper thigh, and she pets his head between sips of her beer.

Smart mutt, I think with a snort, and take another drag on my smoke, trying to smother a smile.

“You okay over there?” Star calls, and I send a little chin-nod in her direction and blow out a lungful of smoke. She just shakes her head and smiles at me. Then, without another word, she laughs and shoves Bruiser’s head off her lap—he gives out a pitiful little whimper and I scoff at him. You’re not subtle, buddy, I think, but he knows what side his bread is buttered on, and as soon as Star’s on her feet, he’s already nosing around Autumn, looking for some love.

I watch as Star pulls herself to her feet and brushes the stuck-on sand off her long legs and make her way over to me, fresh cup of wine in hand. She stumbles a bit, and I smile, trying to figure out if it’s the uneven ground or whatever Autumn keeps refilling her cup with that’s making her move like that. My own cup is half-full of cola I didn’t really want, but couldn’t turn down when I realized that was the only non-alcoholic drink we had. I’d been a little worried about hanging around the others while they drank, but so far it hasn’t been too bad. They sure as hell don’t drink like my old friends and I used to. Roth seems to barely touch the stuff, and Star and Autumn seem content to get quietly tipsy, while my old group wouldn’t stop until at least one of us was puking our fucking guts out on the sidewalk and laughing all the way through it. This is different.

This is nice.

Star sinks down in the sand next to me and leans back against the rock I’m using to prop myself up. She’s holding her cup loosely in her hand, and even from here I can tell that the amount of booze in it is fucking astounding. What the hell is in that wine Autumn makes? Lighter fluid? “Hey,” she says, her voice soft, almost husky. It makes me want to reach over and wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her close. Instead I switch my smoke to the hand closest to her, and bring it to my mouth, just to keep my arm occupied so I don’t do anything stupid.

Like touch her.

Don’t be a fucking moron, I tell myself, but I can feel the warmth of her skin next to mine, and I can’t help but want.

“How are you doing over here?” she asks and sort of sways into me.

Better now that you’re next to me, I want to say, but glare at my bent knees instead and stub the last of my smoke out in the sand between us.

“Not bad,” I tell her, then glance over at her friends, sure they’re watching us. But they’re not. The-next-famous-serial-killer is off gathering up more twigs for the campfire, and Autumn is having a wresting contest with Bruiser on the blanket. Bruiser, as always, is losing. But they both seem to be having fun. I look back over at Star, and in the fading light it’s hard to make out the lines of her face, but I can feel as much as see that she’s smiling. At me.

“Sorry you got dragged out to this,” she says, taking a sip of her drink. “I know it’s probably not how you wanted to spend your Fourth of July.”

“Eh, it’s fine.” I shrug. I’m fighting the urge to pull out another smoke and light up. I need something to do with my mouth other than talk, because apparently I’m fucking awkward as hell. I used to be smoother than this. I know it. “It’s not like I had anything better to do.”

“But sti—”

“Ashley?” My body jolts with recognition as I hear a voice call my name. I turn, squeezing my eyes shut for a split second, praying to whoever’s up there that I’m wrong, that the voice doesn’t belong to who I think. But whoever’s in charge up there still has a beef with me, so of course it’s exactly who I think it is.

I let out a sigh and reach into my pocket. I need that cigarette. Now.

“Hi, Mom.”

Chapter 12

Ash

I’m never fucking leaving the house again. The only place in this damn town that’s safe is Star’s mother’s house. And considering the fact I could be crushed to death by the stuff inside it at any second, that’s saying something. So just no. No more going outside. I’m putting my fucking foot down.

It just isn’t worth it.

Mom is staring down at me, Dad hovering at her shoulder like the world’s largest, most uncomfortable mosquito, and I’m racking my brain for something to say to make them leave before they realize I’m sitting with Star. Whatever they have to say to me, I don’t want her to hear it. I still have some pride. Her gaze flickers down to Star, and she gets this look on her face, one that I’ve seen directed at me a million times. Disappointment.

“I don’t believe I’ve met your . . . friend, Ashley,” she says.

I roll my eyes. Yeah, I think, and you’re not going to, not when you say the word friend but somehow make it sound like garbage. I turn to look at Star, whose gaze is darting back and forth between me and my mom. There’s a little furrow digging in between her brows.

“Are you okay?” she whispers, low enough so my parents can’t hear over all the noise from the crowd on the beach.

I nod once and start pulling myself to my feet. “Yeah,” I say back, keeping my voice low. “You stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

I pull myself up and brush the sand off my jeans before turning and facing my parents. “Come on,” I say. “Let’s take a walk.”

My mother shakes her head. “Oh, no,” she says. “I don’t want to interrupt your evening.” Too late for that. Maybe if you didn’t want to interrupt, you shouldn’t have, oh, I don’t know, fucking interrupted it? “I just wanted to make sure—”

“You wanted to make sure I was keeping out of trouble,” I interrupt. “Well, guess what, Mom? I am.”

“I think what your mother meant, son, was—”

“Ugh, save it, Dad,” I snap. “She wanted to make sure I wasn’t doing anything to embarrass you two. And I’m not. My cup back there? It’s filled with cola. I haven’t had a drink or anything else since I got out. And I got a job, so I don’t need you checking on me anymore, got it?”

“Have you been calling your parole officer?” Mom asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

Fuck. This is why I wanted to take a walk. Now people are turning around where they stand, sneaking looks at us. Fucking fantastic. “Yes,” I grind out through gritted teeth. And I have. Not that it’s been easy without a phone. I’ve had to drive out to the one pay phone in town, which is—surprise, surprise—just outside the diner, where I’m already a freaking pariah.

“Okay,” she says, and for an instant, her gaze drops and I think her shoulders do, too. “Good.”

Dad’s hand comes to rest on her shoulder. “Come on, Nadine,” he says. “I think we should get back.”

Mom nods without looking at me, and together, they turn and start walking away.

Something burns in my chest, and I can’t tell if it’s rage or fucking disappointment, but either way, I can’t stop myself from yelling out to them as soon as they’re almost back to the crowd.

“By the way,” I call out, “I found Bruiser. No fucking thanks to the two of you.” Mom stutters to a stop, and turns around to look at me. I raise my arm and point at the blanket where Bruiser is rolling around on his back next to Autumn, who is looking back and forth between my parents and me with eyes as big as dinner plates. Shit. She’s probably wondering what the hell is going on, just what kind of guy is hanging out with her best friend.

Fuck.

I let my arm drop and watch as Mom just kind of nods sadly and turns away. I don’t even wait for them to disappear into the crowd before I groan and turn back to Star, raking my hands through my hair.

She’s got her plastic cup between both her palms, her thumbs worrying at the top lip of it as she looks up at me. “So . . . I’m guessing that was your parents,” she says.

I sigh and walk back over to her. Sinking down onto the sand next to her, I nod. “Yeah.”

She kind of raises her eyebrows at me, and the edge of her mouth kind of tugs to one side, like she’s trying to smother a smile. “Nice people,” she says, and an instant later she loses control and the smirk appears. A laugh forces its way out of my throat and I bump my shoulder against hers.

“Yeah,” I say, leaning back against the rock and letting the tension bleed from my body. “They’re fucking great.” I look over at her through the corner of my eye. She’s twirling the cup back and forth, pressed between her palms, and is staring down at the tiny whirlpool she’s created in her wine.

“I guess parents aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, huh?”

I shift so I can reach into my pocket for my pack of smokes. “Yeah,” I say. “No kidding.” The motion makes the side of my body press into the side of Star’s, and, much to my surprise, she presses back. The heat of her body seeps into me, warms me like hot coffee on a cold winter’s day. I like it more than I should.

But I don’t pull away. Instead I stay half-pressed against her as I light my smoke and take a long drag. “Hey,” she says, bumping her bent knee against mine. Smiling, she jerks her chin toward the night sky stretched out before us.

“Fireworks.”

And together we lean back against the rock and watch as the fireworks begin, and a million colored explosions dance across the dark sky, their thundering sound just barely covering up the thudding in my chest as Star settles down into the sand and leans farther into me. The heat from her skin seeps into mine, and I can’t help but grin.

It’s the best night I’ve had in a long, long time.

Star

Roth and Autumn drop us back at the house afterward. In the distance, there are still fireworks going off, but I’m wiped and even though they’re heading back to Climbfield, Ash and I still have a long way to go before we’re finished.

I hop out of Roth’s truck, stumbling a little as my feet slap against the pavement. I’m a little tipsier than I thought. I feel warm all over.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive back?” I ask Roth. I can just barely make out his nod in the darkness.

“I’m fine,” he says. “I only had one beer, and that was hours ago. Besides, the B&B is just down the road.”

“And we have to get on the road first thing in the morning,” Autumn adds, walking around the side of the truck to reclaim the shotgun seat. She reaches out and wraps me up in a big hug that smells like apples, just as she always does. We stumble a little under each other’s weight. “Gonna miss you, Starlight,” she murmurs into my hair, and I nod, my throat tightening. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed her until she’d shown up on my doorstep, her and Roth both. I squeeze her back. As hard as I can. And she does the same to me.

“I’m gonna miss you, too,” I say.

“Come on, Autumn,” Roth calls from inside the cab of the truck. “We need to get going.”

“You sure?” Ash says from behind me. I turn and look at him. He’s shifting from foot to foot, his hands in his pockets. “I mean, you could stick around for a bit, if you wanted.” He drags his eyes from the ground in front of him, and suddenly those blue eyes are all that I can see. That and the little smile tugging at his lips.

My stomach flutters.

Face burning, I dig my key chain out of my purse and pass it over to him. He takes it, and a look of relief passes over his face as he finally has something to do with his hands.

“Sadly, we’ve been informed by our gracious hostess that the bed-and-breakfast’s full service includes a curfew,” Roth says, and despite his proper words, his eyes roll to the ceiling of the cab. I scoff.

“Sounds like someone I know,” I tease, remembering all the grief he gave Autumn and I as an RA. I raise an eyebrow at Roth through the open passenger-side window. “I don’t know where you think you’re going—” I step back and open my arms wide “—but I’m not letting you leave here without giving me a hug.”

He grumbles as he gets down from the cab, but I can hear the affection in his voice. I’ve seen the distance he puts between himself and other people, always keeping them away. But somehow, by some miracle, Autumn and I managed to see through all his posturing and grumpy looks and get close to him.

I can count on one hand the number of people I’ve let get close in my life. I’m not letting him go now. He trudges over and wraps me up in a big hug that lifts me bodily off the ground. I laugh as my feet dangle, from the ridiculousness or the drinks I’ve consumed, I don’t know which. It doesn’t matter, anyway. I burrow into his shoulder and breathe his warm, almost spicy scent in. I’m going to miss him. I’m going to miss them both. But even with that knowledge hanging over my head, I’m happy.

“He’d better treat you right,” Roth whispers, his voice low enough that only I can hear him. I rub my face into his shoulder and squeeze him even tighter.

“It’s not like that,” I tell him, even though I want it to be. Sometimes. When I let my guard down and allow that traitorous part of me to hope.

He gives me one last squeeze and sets me back down on my feet. Pulling back, I see a small smile tugging at the side of his mouth. “Liar,” he mutters through his smirk.

“Come on, big guy,” Autumn says, stepping forward and clapping Roth on the shoulder. “Miss Josephine awaits.”

Roth lets out a sigh that can only be described as long-suffering and turns to me. “The owner of the B&B appears to be under the mistaken impression that Autumn and I are married. Her behavior to that end is . . . unnerving.”

I grin at the sight of his discomfort. It takes a lot to shake him, so it makes something warm bloom inside me at the thought of tiny Miss Josephine, the little old lady with the tiny poodle, setting him so off balance. A million scenarios run through my mind of things she could have done. All of them are hilarious.

“Ah, Miss Josephine,” I say, unable to resist. “I think she might be just a tad—” I hold my fingers half an inch apart “—old-fashioned.”

Autumn laughs. “She keeps calling me Mrs. Turner. It’s awesome. Roth keeps looking like he’s trying to conjure up a hole in the floor to hide in through sheer force of will.” I watch as she hops up into the passenger seat and a zing of sadness rips through me at the thought of them leaving.

“If anyone could do it,” I say. “It would be Roth.”

Roth just shakes his head and sighs at Autumn’s laughter before turning to Ash and holding out his hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Ash,” he says, and waits patiently as a riot of emotions parade across Ash’s face as he tries to decide if Roth is for real. He looks like a robot when he reaches out and shakes Roth’s hand, but then Roth steps closer and whispers something in Ash’s ear. Whatever he said, it was too quiet for me to hear, but it made Ash’s eyes widen a little as Roth steps away. They share a moment of that weird thing guys do when they’re silently trying to figure out which one of them is top dog. Then Roth silently turns away, and Ash looks down at his hand once Roth has released it, staring at it like it betrayed him somehow.

As he steps back toward the car, I grab Roth in one last hug. “You take care of yourself, okay?” I say, and then lean forward to whisper in his ear. “What did you say to him?”

“I’ll do that,” Roth says loud enough for the others to hear, and then whispers in my ear, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I pull back. “You’re evil.” He just smiles at me, and doesn’t blink.

I hate when he does that. But I can’t help but laugh.

“You’ve got everything?” I ask him, and he nods.

“I have enough ramen to keep my charges fed in the event of a nuclear holocaust. If I need anything else, I don’t know what it is.”

I smile, but it’s kind of true. We found so much ramen in my mother’s pantry, it was ridiculous. They’d taken it back to the B&B in the meantime, but once it was packed in the car, it would be stacked up in the truck’s backseat so high it would nearly block the back window. Between that and all the other stuff I’ve foisted off on him, Roth should be set through the rest of his tenure as an RA. Even if he decides to go for his PhD.

The image of him eating never-ending bowls of ramen while he glares at his homework springs fully-formed into my mind, and I giggle out loud before I can stop myself. I clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle the sound but it’s too late. I feel my legs sway a little bit under me, and try to right myself without being too obvious about it, but by the looks the others are giving me, I’m failing pretty hard.

I guess the wine is hitting me harder than I thought.

***

Our goodbyes are brief after that, and Ash and I stand at the edge of the driveway together, Bruiser sniffing at the edge of the grass by our sides, watching as Roth’s truck disappears into the night before turning and heading toward the house.

“Ah crap,” I mutter, swaying a little as we climb the porch steps, Bruiser happily trotting along after us until Ash nudges him and tells him to go lay down. I sway directly into Ash’s side and settle there, even though I can feel my face begin to heat. Or maybe that’s just the warmth coming through his clothing. It’s nice. I press closer and murmur, “I forgot to pay you,” and hope that he isn’t going to be too pissed.

His arm wraps around my back, steadying me. I was swaying a little more than I thought, and I tilt my head back to look up at Ash. He’s looking down at me and he’s got this little furrow digging between his brows. Cute.

“What?” he asks, and helps me forward, though the front door. I hadn’t even realized he’d unlocked it. When did I give him my key?

I make it over the threshold gracefully enough, but then my leg glances against a stack of empty boxes we’d put by the door, and they all go tumbling down.

“Oops.” I take a tentative step back from the mess. “Why are those still in here? Shouldn’t we have tossed them?”

“We were gonna use them in the campfire, remember?” Ash says and kicks one of the boxes out of the way so the path is clear again. “Save us a trip to the dump.”

“Oh, yeah. But no. Right.” What was I talking about again? Ugh, stupid Autumn with her stupid wine. It always hits me so much harder than anything else. I think hard for a second, leaning against the wall to steady myself as I try to remember what I was talking about. Stupid wine. My thoughts are slipping away from me like the beach sand through my fingers. “What was I . . .h, yeah!” I wag a finger at Ash. “Money.” That was it. I look around the room, but it’s too dark. “Where’s my checkbook?” I know it’s here somewhere. It has to be. I’m halfway to the little table we put by the front door when I hear Ash laugh and feel his hand close around my upper arm, tugging me back.