High Strung (Power Station Book 1) (12 page)

BOOK: High Strung (Power Station Book 1)
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“Just call him already.” Megs gently shoved my shoulder.

“Don’t rush me. I’m calling.” I pressed call before I had the opportunity to chicken out. My heart was beating so fast, I was positive he was going to be able to hear it.

“Yo. Talk to me.” Dan’s voice burst from the speaker. His New York accent seemed more pronounced on the phone.

“Dan? Is that you?” I knew it was him, so I’m not sure why I asked for confirmation. No doubt my subconscious was buying me some precious time so I could work out what I was going to say.

“Ashlyn.” He said my name and all I could think about was him standing in my room, wearing only a towel. “Miss me already? I knew you’d call.”

His arrogance grated on me. Had this been his plan the whole time? Knowing I would have no choice but to call? No, while Dan was cocky I didn’t think he would be
that
premeditated. Still, I decided to play it safe. “Yeah well, this isn’t really a social call, so don’t get too excited. I need my clutch, I left it in your car.”

“You left your clutch in the car? Is that some kind of riddle?” The confusion in his voice was adorable. “Isn’t that where a clutch belongs?”

“Not a clutch for gears. An evening bag, a clutch.” I bit back my smile as I explained, Megs watching me closely.

“Your purse?”

“Yes, my purse. I think I left it in the Suburban. Can you have your driver look for me?”

“Yeah, you left it. Troy had it with him when he came and picked me up this morning.”

“Well if you had it this morning, why didn’t you bring it to me?” I was slightly annoyed I had been worried about it the whole morning and Dan had known the whole time.

“’Cause you were moody and I was hungry.”

“Okay, so why didn’t you bring it to me after you had breakfast?” I tried to remain calm despite his bogus reasoning. Five minutes. It would have taken five minutes to make the exchange and then he could have gone on to stuff his face with whatever he chose to.

“Oh we didn’t eat in Brooklyn, we drove back to Manhattan. I wanted cupcakes.”

I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it. I shook my head at Megs as I tried to follow the conversation. He wanted cupcakes? Is he for real? Or is he just pushing to see how far the dopey routine will go before I blew.

“So why didn’t you call me then?”

“Um, to ask if you wanted cupcakes?”

“No! To tell me you had my purse!”

“I didn’t have your number.”

“How do you not have my number? You went through my phone and programed in yours.”

What was it about this guy that seemed to push my buttons so hard? There was no middle ground with him. The embarrassment I had felt when I started this conversation had long been forgotten. In its place was a simmering rage that at any point could explode into something more substantial.

“I just looked at your photos, I didn’t go through your contact list. Besides, stealing your number is kind of an invasion of privacy.”

“Are you kidding me? You went through the photos on my phone and my underwear drawer but you drew the line at my
number
?”

Megs stared opened mouthed as she sat beside me. I possibly had forgotten to mention the fact Dan had been sniffing around in my panty drawer, my brain misfiring as the memories of the evening were coming back to me in slow bursts.

“Well…yeah. I’m not a stalker, babe.”

What in the hell? His logic made no sense. None at all. Not even a little. Was he just trying to infuriate me?

“Just give me my freaking purse back,” I spat out through my clenched jaw.

“Geez no need to get mad about it. It’s not like I was going to keep it. I figured you’d call eventually.”

He seemed so unaffected. This wasn’t an act; he really just had a basic and simplistic view of things. How he had managed to get through life unscathed astounded me. Perhaps I should be impressed but it only served to remind me of the injustice in life, how not everyone had to work hard for their rewards.

“Okay, so I’ve called. Can I have it back please?”

“Sure, especially seeing as you said please.” I sensed his smile through the phone. “I’ll pick you up for lunch in an hour? That good?”

“What? No! We’re not having lunch.”

Did he just ask me on a date? While we were in the middle of a heated discussion? This man had zero boundaries, either that or an incredible self-assurance with no fear of failure.

“We can do dinner if you prefer, I just figured you’d want your shit back sooner.”

“No, no dinner either. I just want my stuff. I’m not going out with you.”

“But you have to meet me somewhere so I can give it back to you, right? I don’t see the problem,” he reasoned, unable to see why I was refusing his offer.

I took a deep breath while Megs tapped my arm, silently encouraging me to go. I was glad I was only going to have to recount the one side of the conversation she hadn’t heard, though I’m guessing she was catching the vibe all by herself without my input. I needed to be honest. Something about him fried my brain. I didn’t trust myself around him.

“The problem is that when I’m around you, I obviously exercise poor judgment. So I think it’s best if you just drop off the bag and we go our separate ways. No dates.”

“Lunch isn’t a date.” Dan laughed.

“Are you holding my clutch for ransom?” I half shouted into the phone, still a little hung over and too tired to deal with his circular logic. He just didn’t get it.

“Why are you being so bitchy? I’m trying to be a good guy here. I have to see you anyway to give you your purse so let me buy you some lunch.”

“If I’m bitchy, why would you want to buy me lunch?”

“Even bitches have to eat, don’t they?” He laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

“Calling me a bitch is not endearing yourself.” I narrowed my eyes, unsure of whether or not I was glad he couldn’t see me right now.

“You’re a bitch, I’m an asshole. Can we move on to lunch already?”

“Ugh. Fine. Buy me lunch.”

“So where do you want to go?”

“Just meet me at Applebee’s on West 42nd.”

“You want to go to Applebee’s?”

“Yes! Just meet me there in half an hour, okay? And bring my purse.”

“Okay, see you then.”

I ended the call and pushed my hands into my face. “He is so impossible,” I groaned, annoyed he had somehow talked me into going on a date with him.

“Ash, unless you are in high school, Applebee’s isn’t a date.” Megs laughed, pulling me into a hug. “Applebee’s?” she repeated as she pulled a funny face.

“I tried to think of a place I was least likely to want to get naked around him. I clearly can’t be trusted.”

“Sweetie, you’ve already slept with him. A meal isn’t going to kill you. Go have fun and then come back and tell me all of the details.” Megs playfully pushed my shoulder. Of course, she was right. I could sit across a table and eat and not feel the need to sleep with him again. If anything, this would be the closure I needed. I would ask him calmly exactly what had happened last night and then say a final goodbye. I looked down at my phone’s darkened screen, sitting in my lap. That goodbye would definitely be bittersweet.

"Can I get you
something to drink while you wait on your guest?” the pretty blonde waitress asked as I drummed my fingers across the table. She had to be barely twenty-one but her smile told me that if I were into it, she would be happy to show me a different kind of menu.

“No, I’m fine for now, thanks.” I smiled back, not wanting to cash in on what she was offering. This was so unlike me. Ordinarily I would have taken her number and found out exactly what was hiding underneath that little black polo she was wearing.

“Okay, well let me know if you change your mind.” Her hand floated down and trailed along the top of my knuckles.

So this is why Stone got so much pussy? Girls liked it when you pretended not to be interested. Well, fuck me. Wasn’t that just the revelation of the century? Son of a bitch could have clued me onto this earlier though.

I gave her a smile, figuring I had to give her something, and that seemed to satisfy her. She sauntered off leaving me to sit in the booth by myself like a douche. I hadn’t even bothered to check out her ass as she walked away. I must be off my game.

I had arrived at Ashlyn’s choice of restaurant right on time but she still hadn’t showed. I asked for a booth toward the back and let the waitress know I was expecting a guest, although why she picked this venue was a mystery. I can’t remember the last time I was in one of these places. Still the location was unimportant, she had agreed to meet me and I had that tiny, sparkly purse to thank.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.” Ashlyn rushed in, her face a little flushed. “I walked from Megs’s apartment.” She collapsed into the bench seat opposite me. “It took a little longer than I thought.”

“It’s okay, babe, I haven’t been waiting long.” I watched as she nervously picked up the menu in front of her, a few strands of unruly red hair fell across her face, the rest of her curls were pulled back away from her face and secured by a hair tie. She looked completely different, no business gear or short dress and come-fuck-me heels. Just a pair of jeans, some faded bar T-shirt, a pair of Vans kicks, and no makeup. My dick punched out in my jeans in appreciation. She was stunning.

“Here,” I slid the purse across the table, feeling kind of stupid staring at her while she sat uncomfortably studying her menu. “I went through it but just to see whose it was. I wasn’t doing anything shady.”

She glanced up, her big green eyes looked at me and then dropped to the purse on the table. “Thank you. There wasn’t much in there for you to see.”

She looked awkward, nervous almost. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, getting another opportunity to see her but now I felt like a giant dick making her sit here when she didn’t want to be.

“Look, Ashlyn,” I couldn’t believe I was about to fucking say what I was about to, both hating myself but knowing it was the right thing to do, “you don’t have to stay, you have your purse. You can take off if you want.”

Those big green eyes nailed me as she disregarded her menu. “Dan, I’m sorry. This is just really—”

“Weird?” I finished for her. She wasn’t hard to read; I felt the vibe the minute she walked in.

Strangely, I hated she felt that way and what I hated even more was that she was feeling it because of me. Maybe touching all that girl stuff from her purse did something to my balls ’cause seeing her like this was giving me feelings and shit. Next I’m gonna need a fucking box of Tampax and start blubbering while watching
The Notebook
. It’s not like I hadn’t cared about girls’ feelings in the past, they just seemed less important than my own. Yeah, I know I’m an asshole, but I just didn’t feeling like being one right now, even if the rest of my body didn’t agree.

“Yeah, weird. I’ve never had a one-night stand before so yeah sitting across from you pretending you haven’t seen me naked is…well it’s awkward.” She smiled and damn if that didn’t make me want to reach across the table and kiss those sweet lips.

“Ashlyn, listen…about last night.” My dick punched out in protest, warning me to keep my big fucking mouth shut. “I don’t think you really know what went down.” Her eyes widened, as she waited for me to finish. “We didn’t sleep together last night. I mean we slept together, but we didn’t fuck.” I managed to say the word fuck just as the blonde waitress returned to take our drinks order.

“Uh…can I get you guys some drinks to start off with, maybe some appetizers?” She fumbled through her regular, obviously rehearsed speech. Thank fuck she didn’t ask if we wanted to hear the specials.

“You want a soda or something?” I asked Ashlyn who continued to stare silently. I wasn’t able to get a read on whether it was a surprise we-hadn’t-slept-together or you’re-an-asshole-I-want-to-hurt-you look. I’m going to be honest, both of them kinda blew.

She nodded, responding, “Coke.”

“Make that two.”

The waitress quickly left after it became obvious we were in the middle of something.

“Then we didn’t do
it
?” Ashlyn leaned closer across the table. “But I remember, telling you I wanted to, in the car. You tried to talk me out of it but I…” She didn’t need to finish the sentence. I remember that car ride; hardest thing I ever had to do was ask her to cool it. I wanted her so bad but I knew it was just the booze talking.

BOOK: High Strung (Power Station Book 1)
7.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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