Victoria Ashley - Slade

“Don’t you fucking say it,” I growl out at him in warning and shake the counter.

“I’m just telling you that there’s still meaning in your life and you need to find that again. The pain will never go away. I get that but-”

“Fucking stop! Do you understand me?” My voice comes out firmly. “Don’t you say another fucking word about it. It’s done. Over. I’ve moved on.”

Looking me in the eyes, he stands up and picks up his glass for me to see. “This is what you call moving on? A career as a bartender that strips on the weekends and has meaningless sex with any tramp you can slip your dick into. No, son. This is not moving on. It’s fucking numbing the pain.”

Grinding my jaw, I swing my hand across the counter, knocking over the bottle of Scotch along with a bunch of other items like limes, straws, and cocktail napkins. “You just don’t know when to stop, do you? This is why we don’t talk. This is why I stay away. You won’t let me live.”

Turning to leave, he stops and throws down some money. “No, I’m trying to help you live and stop being a piece of shit. Get your shit together before it’s too late. You’re twenty six years old for fucks sake. Act like it.”

I hear him walking away, but I refuse to look his direction and show him just how worked up I am. He always fucking does this; acts as if he knows what I’m going through or how the fuck I feel and should feel. No one does.

Fighting to catch my breath and calm down, I lean over the bar and grip the front of my hair in my hands. I feel like going fucking mad right now. Today is not a good day to think about this shit.

I’m pissed. Pissed at my father and pissed at myself for knowing he’s right.

Picking up a bottle of Vodka, I toss it across the room at the wall. It shatters against the wall, leaving the clear liquid dripping on the floor. It doesn’t do shit to calm me down though. So, I just stand there and stare at the ceiling.

“Well . . . I see it’s extremely busy in here today.”

I look over with narrowed eyes to see Aspen walk in. She’s no longer wearing her clothes from yesterday. Now, she’s wearing a pair of faded jean shorts and a white tank top that shows the pink outline of her bra. She must’ve had her clothes in Kayla’s car. She looks . . . good. This look fits her.

Exhaling, I stand up straight and gesture around me. “Yeah, really fucking busy. I hope you’re not here for a drink because I might not be able to handle making you one,” I say sarcastically.

She leans against the front of the bar and starts fingering the remaining napkins. “I’m here because Kayla had to go to work and Cale isn’t home. I don’t have a key to get in and he didn’t pick up the phone.” She looks down at the mess by my feet and then looks up at me. “I suppose you could use a little company anyways.”

“I guess,” I mumble. “Doesn’t look like I have much of a choice.” I reach for a glass and scoop it full of ice. “Want a drink?”

“Just a Sprite will be fine. I only drink when I’m out at parties. It’s kind of my thing. I’m a lightweight.”

I watch her as she sits down in front of me and chews on her lip. “Are you nervous?” I study her reaction to the question that is making her cheeks turn red.

Shaking her head, she reaches for the glass after I finish filling it and pulls it to her lips. “Why would I be nervous? You think you make me nervous? No. You just make me mad. Those are two different things.”

Nodding my head in agreement, I say, “You’re not the only fucking one.”

I’m used to it. Hell, I’m pissed at myself most of the time.

She laughs under her breath and sticks the tip of the straw into her mouth. “I bet there are a lot of pissed off women running around this world due to you. I just get that vibe.”

Challenging her, I lean over the bar and pull the straw out of her mouth with my tongue, being sure to get close to her mouth. “Oh yeah,” I whisper. “What kind of vibe is it that you get from me?”

Backing away, she watches my mouth as I chew on her straw. She clears her throat and averts her eyes when she sees that I notice her staring. “A bad one,” she replies.

I stand up and spit out the straw when I see Cale walk in. “Dude, what are you doing here?” For some reason the thought of him being here to pick Aspen up pisses me off.

“Sarah called and said she won’t be able to make it to work at all today because her son’s doctor appointment is taking longer than she expected. Figuring you wouldn’t want the full shift, I offered to come in until seven.”

He walks up behind Aspen, wraps his arms around her and squeezes. “Hey, gorgeous. What are you doing here?”

She places her hands on his arms and smiles. “Hey, pretty boy,” she says teasingly. “I couldn’t reach you earlier so I had Kayla drop me off here.”

Looking up from behind Aspen, Cale gives me a concerned look. “Yeah, so your dad stopped by this morning, but judging from the look of this place he’s already been here too,” he says looking down at the ground.

“I don’t even want to hear it. Thanks for the fucking warning.”

Cale releases Aspen and steps behind the bar. “I didn’t say shit. He must’ve figured it out on his own. It’s pretty fucking simple to find your ass.”

A few guys walk in and take a seat next to Aspen at the bar. I notice the preppy, clean cut one staring at her with a creepy ass smile and I have the urge to shove my fist down his throat.

He better not try to pick her up. She doesn’t need a guy like that. She needs one that is going to fuck her good and please her so good that it fucking hurts. He looks like too much of a fucking pussy to handle her.

“Hey,” he says to Aspen. “Alex.”

Cale starts talking to me, but my attention stays focused on Alex to be sure he doesn’t sign his fucking death wish.

“Aspen.” She shakes his hand and then looks away uncomfortable.

Cale nudges me as he goes to approach the guys. “Get your ass out of here. I got it from here. Hemy will be coming in around four so it’s all good.”

“Huh,” I mumble. I pull my eyes away from Aspen and look up at Cale.

“I got it, man. Aspen can hang out here while I work so she doesn’t have to be at the house by herself. I’m sure you have shit to do.”

Looking back toward Aspen, I notice the creepy guy has somehow gotten closer. Cale is taking their drink order and he doesn’t even fucking notice. Seriously?

“No, man. Aspen is coming with me. I don’t have shit to do.”

Aspen looks up and watches as I clock out.

“Come on. We’re leaving.”

She looks at me for a second as if she didn’t hear me right.

Grabbing my helmet, I walk around to the other side of the bar and reach for her hand, pulling her up to her feet. “Let’s go.”

Cale and the creepy dude give me a weird look, but I could care less. I’m not leaving her here with that fucking preppy douche.

Aspen looks like she’s about to say something until I look her in the eyes and clench my jaw. Instead, she turns beside her to look at Cale. “I’ll see you when you get home.”

He gives me a warning look before turning to Aspen. “Don’t let this dick get to you. If he does, let me know.” He turns back to me and scowls. “And don’t worry, asshole. I’ll clean up your mess.”

Waving him off, I walk her out of the bar. When we get to my bike, I toss her my helmet while straddling my bike. “Get on.”

Aspen

Sitting on the back of Slade’s motorcycle with my arms wrapped around his waist is the last thing I thought I’d be doing right now. Just earlier I wanted to rip his fucking hair out and choke him, but I have a feeling he might like that type of thing. I might even like doing it to him. That’s the sad part.

Since leaving the club, we’ve been riding for the last hour in dead silence. I have a feeling he needs this at the moment and hell, I do too. It’s relaxing having the cool breeze hit against your skin as you ride with no worries; not knowing where you’re going or where you’ll end up at. The only problem is - it feels like it’s about to rain. I can smell it and almost taste it.

Yup, here it comes. Perfect timing.

Holding on tighter, I bring my body closer to his as the rain suddenly hits, pouring off the helmet and soaking my shirt. It’s cool. Cooler than I expected, giving me instant chills. My nipples harden as the fabric of my now wet shirt rubs against them. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to go with lace today.

Slade tilts his head up, takes a deep breath and slowly releases it. I can feel his body tensing beneath my arms and I feel myself unintentionally squeeze tighter as he makes a quick right. He rides down a path hidden beneath the trees until finally making a stop in the middle of nowhere.

Grabbing for my hand, he helps me off the bike before he quickly hops off and yanks his gray T-shirt over his head and holds it above me. He slowly backs me up until we’re standing below a huge tree, hidden from the rain.

He’s standing there soaked, looking at me through long, wet lashes. He has the most amazing blue eyes I have ever seen. I want to pull my gaze away, but I can’t. I’m hypnotized. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s so damn beautiful; dangerously beautiful. His black hair is wet and slicked back from the rain. It’s thick and slightly long. I love that. The focal point is those lips. Oh God, those lips. The rain is falling on them, beading, and dripping down. With each drop that falls, it causes him to keep using his tongue to dry them. It’s so damn distracting.