Home > Sugar Rush (Friend-Zoned #3)(38)

Sugar Rush (Friend-Zoned #3)(38)
Author: Belle Aurora

I sit on the sofa, where Tedwood sleeps rolled up into a little fuzzy ball. I’ve come to find that when he’s sleeping, he doesn’t mind being cuddled. Lowering my face to his head, I nuzzle him with my nose. His purring exaggerates and I smile. I reach down to slide on my sneakers when someone knocks at the door.

Ted and I both look up at the door, then at each other. I mutter under my breath, “I wonder who that could be.” When I move to pat Ted on the rump, he hisses. And I mock-cower. “Ooooh, sorry, your highness. I forgot; you’re awake and that shit doesn’t fly.” I stand and walk over to the door, still talking to my cat. “God forbid someone would show you some love.” I throw my hands in the air and exclaim, “The absolute horror!”

I chuckle and answer the door. My lips thin. “What?”

Ash stands in the doorway, leaning on the frame, looking freshly showered. “C’mon. I’m taking you to work.”

I roll my eyes. “No. You aren’t. Don’t you think you’ve caused enough trouble?”

His jaw tics and he swallows hard. He speaks through gritted teeth. “I would really like to take you to work, Helena.”

My arms lift to cross over my chest. “Why?”

Avoiding my eyes, he scratches his chin and utters a bored, “So I can apologize to your asshole boss.”

My eyes narrow at him. “Nat put you up to this, didn’t she?”

He sighs in exasperation. “You want me to apologize to the douchebag or not?”

My head tilts slightly. I consider this. I walk over to the breakfast bar to grab my purse, work ID, and cell phone. I shove them in my pockets and walk past Ash through the open door. “Let’s go.”

“Fuck,” he mutters as he follows behind me.

Just as we enter the center, Ash opens his mouth. But I’m quicker than he is. I raise my hand, palm up, and shake my head slowly. “Nuh uh. Don’t you say a damn thing to me. I’m still pissed at you. You save your words, buddy. You save ‘em for James.”

He follows me down to reception, where I make him sign in and wear a stupid-looking visitor’s badge. He pulls at his shirt and grumbles, “Woman, if I didn’t love you…”

I screech to a halt and spin to face him. “You love me?” He makes a face. One of torture. As though I’m pulling teeth. My feet still firmly attached to the ground, I put a hand to my chest as warmth fills me. “Nawww, Ash.”

“You know what? Fuck this. I’m leaving.”

Poor Ash. I should let him leave. I mean, I won’t. But I should.

He turns and takes a single step away from me before I snag the back of his shirt and pull him backwards. Smiling, I link my arm through his and drag him down the hall toward my office. “Don’t be so dramatic. There’s no shame in loving family. I love you too, by the way. I’ve just never heard you say it. It shocked me.”

He lifts his head heavenward and mumbles, “Hold it together, man.”

Grinning, I utter, “Drama queen.”

As I reach my desk, I sit quickly to log into my computer, when Felicity approaches, quiet as a cat. I don’t even look up when she says, “I thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend.”

I just know she’s got a firm eye on Asher. “I don’t,” I tell her distractedly, keying in my passwords and opening up the programs I need for the day.

Her tone changes immediately. It becomes deeper, smoother, and sultrier. “Well, hi there, friend of Helena. I’m Felicity.”

Still not looking up, I snort. “Yeah, he’s married. To my sister.”

Exasperation lines her voice. She huffs out, “Well, shit. Figures. All the hot ones are taken, stupid, or gay.” That’s when I look up.

Ash looks so uncomfortable it makes me chuckle. “Felicity, stop eyeing the man like a piece of meat. He’s going to get hives any second now.”

She pauses, looks him up and down, and then breaks out into a million dollar smile. “Sorry. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. I’m not getting any younger now.”

A pffft noise leaves my mouth. “Oh, puh-leeze. How old are you? Twenty-nine or something.”

Suddenly, I’m being wrapped in a warm hug with plenty of boobage. Felicity states on a squeeze, “God, I love you.” As she releases me, she asks Ash, “Don’t you just love her?” Before he can answer, she tells me, “I’m thirty-five, sweetie.”

I open my mouth to tell her I never would’ve guessed, when James walks towards us from down the hall. He looks to be in bad shape. Firstly, he hasn’t shaved. Secondly, he has bags under his eyes. When he spots Ash, he stops in the middle of the hall. I look up at Felicity. “Mind if I catch up with you later?”

She smiles warmly. “Of course,” she says, and then leaves the three of us to talk.

James approaches slowly, head lowered. When he reaches us, he utters quietly, “I’m resigning this morning. You don’t need to file the complaint. I’ve put all the reasons in my resignation letter.”

My mouth gapes a second before it snaps shut. My jaw sets. I nudge Ash with my shoulder. He steps forward. “You got an office?” James still won’t look up. It’s breaking my heart. But he nods. Ash asks, “You got a second? I gotta get to work.”

James sighs, running a hand over his bald head. “I don’t need a lecture—”

I see the moment when Ash has had enough of tiptoeing around. “Fuck. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and take me to your fuckin’ office, man.”

James finally looks up. At me. “You okay?”

Oh man. I could totally fall in love with this man. Thinking his world is falling apart around him, thinking he is about to lose his job, he looks over at the cause of all of his problems and asks if she is okay. I could so totally fall in love with this man. My smile is small, but genuine. “I think you should talk to Asher.”

Half-turning, he says, “If you say so.”

He starts to walk to his office, Asher in tow, and I wonder if—and hope that—James and I will be friends again before the day is out.

***

Asher

The guy looks ready to throw in the towel. I wish I felt bad about what I did and said yesterday, but I don’t. I got my reasons. He walks me into his office and sits, throwing out a hand in invitation to also sit. I do. We stare at each other for a minute. My eyes narrow. His don’t; he just blinks at me, looking like a man who’s accepted the worst. I should tell him now that I’m not filing anything. Instead, I tell him a little about myself.

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