“Is there no other way to reach the town?” She asks like the idea of going back disgusts her. “Maybe I can walk?”
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She will walk in the rain just to get away from me? I feel angry at her for it and maybe a little hurt, too.
“No. If there was, I would have already have headed for it. I’m not thrilled you have to stay in my house ‘til this little problem has been resolved, either. Don’t worry,” I snapped.
“Jeez, can you be reasonable for just a second? I was worried about the bar and my boss. He would probably give me hell for it, he’s just made me bar manager too. Oh, my gosh what’s he going to think? You can’t blame me for being nervous about staying with you either, you have a multiple personality disorder!” She bites back.
“Oh, that… you can let them know,” I say.
Why does this ridiculous smile threaten to show on my face?
“So, you have no objection for your disorder?” She crooks her eyebrow.
~*~
I turn the car back around. I sideway glance her as I say, “You’ll have enough time to prove your theory if they don’t take care of this tree anytime soon.”
I glanced as she pulled out her phone and typed out a text. I noticed how her slender fingers flew over the keypad of her iPhone swiftly. Once she was done, she dropped her phone back into her bag and turns her head to look out of the window again. I’d love to know what’s going through her head right now, her posture is rigid, with her arms wrapped around herself in defense.
I speak to Acacia without taking my eyes off the road, “Okay?”
She turns her head to look at me before turning back to the window, “Yeah it’s fine, I just needed to let Toby know what has happened today and that I needed him to cover me.”
CHAPTER TEN
ACACIA
Spending time with Ashton isn’t as bad as I would’ve guessed. Yeah, he’s a bipolar asshole, but I think after a few hours with him I got used to it. Or maybe I just had a better understanding toward him because I saw his caring side. Maybe I relate to his need to stay away from people; in this case, he must feel like I’m an intruder to his comfortable silence. No matter what, a part of me is happy for the tree incident. Even though it is silly.
“I’m not much of a cook I’m afraid, would you be okay with mac and cheese?” Ashton comes to the living room with his usual grumpy face, but I got used to it, too. To be honest, I’m beginning to like his rude, grumpy self. It’s refreshing in the world full of ass-kissers, and it’s a part of his personality, I think.
“That’s great! Do you need any help?”
“Do you mind preparing the salad?”
“Since you asked so nicely… sure,” I laugh and follow him back to the kitchen. “Great what?” I ask when I see the letters on the fridge.
Mr Grumpy likes to play with these letters? I snort.
“Huh? What’s great?”
“You wrote ‘great’ on the fridge, I was just messing with you.” I shrug and start to wash lettuce, but he stays there, in front of the fridge, caressing the letters like they are telling him a secret story.
It’s there again… the undeniable pain and suffering on his features.
I want to ask, I want to learn the source of his pain, and maybe even wanted to be his solace. I know how ridiculous it is, I know how delusional I sound, but I want to see his smile and be the reason for it. But instead, I start to cut the vegetables into the bowl.
When he comes back to the stove his eyes are distant, his body is tense, and his jaw is taut with emotions. We work in silence for a while, and like every time I’m in the kitchen, I start to murmur the song Take Your Time by Sam Hunt. I see Ashton as he turns to look at me, the song starts talking, but he turns his attention back to the pot in front of him when he notices I’m just singing.
As I keep singing, I see his lips move with the lyrics of the song. Relieved that the strange tension gets away I bump my hips to his, laughing as I sing.
I didn’t even notice the meaning of this song before I start to sing it, but to my shock, he continues.
He has a good voice, and the small smile on his face makes me giddy. I can’t help my laugh as I keep singing, but when the meaning of the lyrics hit me I stop what I’m doing and my eyes find his, singing the rest of the song with the intensity I feel.
I don’t know whether he thinks the same thing, but I feel the change in him just like I feel it for myself and my breath hitches as he turns to me and sings the lyrics of the chores with even more emotion than before.