Fixing Ashley by Melissa Gardener Read Free Book Online

advantage of my position on the ground to castrate me.
    As I stand there awkwardly looking around, I notice Ashley doing the same. It’s like Junior High all over again. Neither of us looking at each other. Well, if she’s looking at me, I wouldn’t know because I’m no longer looking at her.
    Besides, when she does look at me, it’s as if I can feel it. My skin prickles all over, and I instinctively have to look in her direction. It’s been like that since the first day we met at the house, and has only gotten worse every time we’ve been in the same room.
    Fucking weird. I’m thirty-four years old for Christ’s sake; this shit is too much. And I may or may not be a little inebriated at the moment.
    And just when I think things couldn’t get any more awkward, Brad and Laurie walk off and blend into the crowd of people on the dance floor.
    “So...” Ashley trails off, glancing around. She looks about as comfortable as I feel.
    I nod. “Yeah...”
    “Dance with me?” She glances up at me through those dark lashes and damn, I know I can’t say no.
    Nodding, I clasp her hand in mine. It’s small and warm against my palm as we thread our fingers together. I take a deep breath and pray she can’t feel my heart thumping through every artery, vein, and nerve ending in my body.
    I swallow my nerves as I lead her toward the dance floor. We’re surrounded by people and I feel her behind me, as she fists the back of my shirt with her other hand. I tighten my grip on her hand and talk myself into not chickening out.
    Jesus fucking help me.
    We make our way through the crowd as some cheesy Pitbull song blares through the speakers, making the throngs of people scream out and gyrate all over the place, and at the same time pushing Ashley into my chest with an audible humph.
    “Shit, I’m sorry,” she says, as I hold her against me, my palms pressed to the small of her back and my fingers skimming the denim of her skirt right where they belong.
    As the alcohol swirls around in my blood, my mind is screaming abort , but my body is willing to go with the flow. This isn’t what I expected to happen tonight.
    “It’s not a date.” My words come out slurred and I’m pretty sure she can’t hear them over the music.
    I look down at her face, her eyes pleading, boring into mine, and for the briefest moment, I forget everything.
    Nothing matters.
    Not the noise.
    Not the people.
    Not my job.
    Not even that throbbing going on in my groin.
    Praying she pulls away before I touch her, I swallow my nerves and lean down, ghosting my lips over hers. Holding them there for the briefest moment, I soak up the feeling of having her soft lips touching mine.
    That feeling—the one that makes my entire body light up and tingle—comes back tri-fold, scaring the shit out of me. I don’t think I’ve ever had this kind of reaction to a simple kiss. Ever. In my entire life, no simple kiss has affected me this way.
    Eyes wide, I pull back and take a deep breath, but all my senses are focused on her. All I smell is her. All I see is her. All I feel is her.
    “I’m so fucking sorry, Ashley.” I search her eyes, but she’s speechless, looking up at me in surprise, her lips still puckered and slightly parted. “Fuck, I’m so fucking sorry.”
    She nods and looks down between us where my hands are still holding on to her hips.
    I quickly take my hands off her, and look around. Everyone is dancing and having a good time.
    I can’t do this.
    I can’t do this to her or to us or to my job. I can’t be the rebound guy. That’s not who I am.
    I probably just fucked myself over.
    Scrubbing a hand over my face, I nod curtly and point to the exit. “I gotta go.”
    Without another word, I leave the club and go home, praying I still have a job on Monday.
     

Chapter 5
     
    I screwed up.
    Monday morning creeps up on me like a snake waiting for its prey.
    I don’t want to go to the house.
    I don’t want to see her.
    That’s a lie.
    I want to