Ruthless Love (Ash and Innocence 1)

“Formerly wheelchair-bound,” I added.

She lifted her eyes to mine, looking like a goddamn angel. I ran my thumb down the freckled bridge of her nose, smirking at the way she wrinkled her eyes and smiled. “Well?” She asked.

“Oh. I thought the answer was obvious. You wanted to know if I’d prefer to have that tight, gorgeous little—”

She pushed a finger to my lips, looking around the parking lot at the other kids who were heading to their cars.

“Skip a few words and continue that sentence,” she said, slowly removing her finger from my lips.

“Pussy of yours sleep next to me every night,” I continued, “the answer is yes.”

She frowned. “Which words did you skip?”

“An entire paragraph about how good it feels when it’s wrapped around my c—”

She bounced on her tiptoes and shut me up with a kiss. Not one to complain, I let her.

“Joking aside,” I said. “I appreciate that. Even if you’re probably going to get kicked out of your place around the same time as me, given that you have no way to pay the mortgage.”

“About that,” she said. “My dad offered to come live at the house with me. He said he could take over the mortgage and the bills. He works remotely, so he wouldn’t even need to find a new job.”

“And he knows you just invited your well-endowed boyfriend to live with you as part of this arrangement?”

“Um,” she said. “Minus the well-endowed part, I kind of told him it was a requirement of the arrangement.”

I squinted my eyes at her. “And he agreed?”

“I’ve been burned from trusting someone I thought I knew before. I wouldn’t be very wise to trust someone I just met to live in the same house with me, would I?”

I nodded. “To tell the truth, if I knew you were going to let him move in, I probably would’ve set up a sleeping bag outside your window, anyway.”

“You realize you’d slide right off the roof, don’t you?”

“What?” I asked.

“I just mean literally speaking. There’d be almost no friction. You’d go flying into the yard like a torpedo. Sorry,” she added. “A well-endowed torpedo.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

After saying goodbye to Kennedy and getting her to promise she’d come to the party I was throwing that she wasn’t thrilled about, I headed to the locker room to meet with coach.47KennedyI didn’t need to guess when Tristan’s party had started because, as usual, I could hear the music from my house. I walked down the path, careful not to get run over by the seemingly endless stream of cars that were heading down the road or parking outside the gate in my back yard.

Despite the chaos, it gave me time to think. Ever since my mom got taken away, it felt like my life was moving too fast to keep up with. There was everything that happened with my dad. The calls from lawyers and the meetings with police to endlessly go over details—all while feeling slimy because telling the truth felt like condemning my mom.

Of course, there was Tristan, too.

My dark hero. I smiled a little at the thought.

Was he perfect? No. Real people weren’t. He’d probably always have a cruel side. A side that was prone to overreacting and vengefulness. Tristan could be ruthless, and I thought I probably knew it as well as anyone. But all those qualities had a positive side—the side I’d seen him show when he turned them on my problems. He was able to step into my life and be exactly who I needed. And I loved him for that.

Just like I still loved my mom for all the things she had done to take care of me. I’d always be mad about what she did, but it didn’t mean I was going to stop loving her. Just like I wasn’t going to stop loving Tristan because he was recklessly trying to destroy his father’s multi-million-dollar mansion with an endless barrage of parties.

I guessed the two of them had taught me their own lessons about love. Love wasn’t something you searched for, found, and locked away to cherish. It was more like my weeds. You showed up every day with your little pail of water. You drizzled some water on them, maybe sang a few songs, and you enjoyed it. You kept working on it even when you didn’t know how it would turn out. And one day, you realized it didn’t matter what it grew into, or if it was ever perfect. All that mattered was the moments you found along the way. Those little, fleeting glimpses of perfect. Memories you might catch if you were quick enough.

Love was imperfect down to its core. It was ugly. Sometimes cruel. Sometimes it was ruthless. Sometimes it would make you want to scream in anger. But I wouldn’t trade the people I loved for anything.