All It Takes Page 7

  But unfortunately, when my mother passed away, the power company switched off the juice, so the fan is a no-go, no matter how good it sounds right now. I just can’t risk it. With all the expenses I have going on right now, and my second year of college looming on the horizon, I just can’t afford the deposit the power company wants in exchange for switching the power back on.

  So unless a miracle happens, we’re stuck and I get to feel like I’m dying.

  Now I know how the Wicked Witch of the West must have felt.

  Melting.

  Melting.

  Melting.

  Would it be too weird if I snagged the bikini I’d shoved in my purse and changed into that? Would Ash care? Because seriously, I am dying here. It is so damn hot. And I’ve been carrying it around with me, just in case I ever happen to stumble upon the lake I know is around here somewhere. But I haven’t had the chance to go exploring, and I haven’t bothered asking any of the locals where it is, since it isn’t like I have any spare time and they probably wouldn’t tell me, anyway.

  “Jesus Christ,” Ash’s voice calls out from behind me. “I think I’m dying.”

  I look over, my eyes scanning across the yard, but I don’t see Ash. At least, not right away. After a moment, I see movement and I walk closer. Ash is actually lying face-down on the ground in the patch of shade cast by the big oak tree by the back fence. He’s got his arms starfished out at his sides, and he even has his bare cheek pressed against the cool dirt. As I walk up, he lets out a muffled groan and raises an arm weakly in my direction, before letting it fall limply to the ground.

  I laugh. “You’re . . . not kidding.” I amble over to stand in the shade with him. It’s a little cooler here, but not by much. I crouch down for a minute, and his eyes blink open to look at me. “You okay?” I ask.

  “No,” he murmurs. “Too hot. Dying.”

  “Okay, drama queen,” I say, standing back up. “Just let me know if you want me to cover your body with dirt when you expire, or if you want me to drag you to the Dumpster instead.”

  Ash groans and pushes himself up enough to flip over onto his back. I’m momentarily distracted by the movement of his muscles beneath his T-shirt. His back is broader than I had imagined. Not that I’ve been imagining what he looks like without clothes, it’s just . . .

  Yeah. Just stop right there, Star.

  “Just leave me here for the wolves,” he says, and lets his eyes fall shut again. “They’ll drag my body away. No Dumpster-chucking needed.”

  I know he’s joking, but something about what he says gives me pause.

  “Wolves?” I ask, trying to keep my voice light and playful. Because Miss Josephine’s tiny poodle already kind of freaks me out. Anything wolf-size or related would be over the line. Way over it. And I’ve been away from Avenue for a long time, so I can’t say for certain if he’s joking or not. It’s a small town near a forest. There could be wolves.

  But all Ash says is “yeah,” which doesn’t help me figure out the whole wolf issue at all. Before I can work up the courage to actually ask, he continues with, “Holy shit, how can it even be so hot? This shouldn’t be possible. Humans wouldn’t have survived as a species. We’d all be dead.”

  “That’s why we created air-conditioning,” I reply, and reach down to untie my sneakers. My feet are overheated, like the rest of my body, but at least this is one thing I can take care of. “So I guess you’re not used to it, either, huh?” I ask, sliding my shoes off my feet. Ideally, I’d be wearing my flip-flops in this heat—well, ideally I wouldn’t be out here in the heat in the first place, but that’s neither here nor there—but I didn’t dare, not in this place. Who knows what kind of stuff could be lying around, just waiting to be stepped on?

  I press my bare feet into the dirt. It’s delightfully cool, and I wiggle my toes, getting the sandy earth wedged between them like a little kid on the beach.

  “Yeah,” he replies. “The prison had the A/C running full blast. They had to. There would’ve been a shit-ton of riots if they let us bake like this.”

  “People do get pissy in the heat,” I agree. I’m trying not to think about it, about what Ash went through. Just the thought of him in prison makes my stomach hurt.

  Ash turns and opens one eye to look up at me. “You seem to be doing okay,” he says. And I grin.

  “That’s only because you’re staying out of my way,” I tease. “If you had pissed me off, well, you’d already be in the Dumpster by now.”

  “Hmmm,” he says, and lets his eyes fall shut again. “I don’t know. I think I could take you.”

  Yes, you can, my brain helpfully supplies before I can shut it up.

  Nope, I tell it. Not thinking about that. At all. I pull my phone out of the back pocket of my shorts and check the time before sliding it back in and kicking my foot out, nudging Ash with my toe. “Come on,” I say. “Get up.”

  “Ugh . . . ” he moans. “Why?”

  “Because it’s too hot to work right now,” I say. “And if you get up I’ll buy you a slushie.”

  He opens his eyes and pushes himself up so he’s leaning back against his bent elbows. Raising an eyebrow at me, he asks, “Seriously?”

  “Seriously,” I reply. “Any flavor you want. But you have to get up.” Technically I could just go buy the slushies and bring them back, but for some reason that I don’t want to think about, I want him to come with me.

  A voice that sounds a hell of a lot like my roommate Autumn laughs at me from the back of my mind. Shut up, I tell it. It’s not a date. I turn back to Ash as I slip my sneakers back on my now-dusty feet. “You coming?” I ask.

  “Okay,” he says, pulling himself to his feet. “But I’d just like to say that I’m not getting up because you told me to. I’m doing it solely for the slushie.”

  “Duly noted,” I tell him, reaching into my pocket for the car keys. “But if that’s your attitude, you can stay in the car while I go into the nice air-conditioned mini-mart.”

  Ash lets out an honestly pornographic-sounding moan and mumbles something that I’m pretty sure was “air-conditioning,” but it came out of his mouth like he was addressing some form of deity. He moves to step past me and my free hand reaches out automatically and starts brushing the sandy dirt off the back of his T-shirt. I don’t even realize I’m doing it until he freezes under my touch, and as soon as I see what I’m doing, my entire body tenses up in humiliation. Slowly, deliberately, I pull my hand away and brush it against the side of my shorts. Ash is looking at me with an unreadable expression on his face, and my face burns. But this time I know the fire I’m feeling isn’t from the sun.

  “Sorry,” I mumble, and do a fumbling sort of wave as I try to gesture to his back. “Dirt.”

  “Yeah,” Ash says softly, and then turns away to stare at the ground somewhere off to the side.

  “Okay!” I say, and clap my hands together, because it isn’t like I can make it any more awkward at this point. “Let’s go.” I forge ahead toward the gate. “Car time. Slushies await.”

  ***

  Taking the car was probably the wrong choice. It is still full of junk, so it is cramped as hell—the first thing I am doing when we get back is cleaning it out, I swear—and it is even hotter inside the car than it is outside, if that is possible. It takes nearly the entire drive over to the mini-mart for the ancient air conditioner to kick in, and when it does, it barely gives off a sputter of cold air before it craps out again.

  Yeah, I am definitely going to need to get that fixed.

  Goodbye, money.

  I sigh and drag my overheated body out of the car. Ash is hot on my heels as I hustle into the mini-mart, the doors sliding open automatically in a burst of icy air that leaves me breathless. Oh, thank god. I’m tempted to just throw myself onto the Popsicle display face-first, and stay there forever. And I might have, if Ash did
n’t herd me toward the slushie machine at the back of the store.

  We’re there for less than a minute; me, trying to decide which flavor sounds most appealing, Ruby Blast or Arctic Blue, while Ash adds layer after layer of different flavors to his cup. He steps back and surveys his handiwork. It looks almost like a rainbow.

  “That’s going to be disgusting,” I tell him, and reach for the machine that’s churning Arctic Blue. Arctic-anything sounds good right now. “All the flavors are going to combine into soup.”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, and grabs a double-wide straw from the box next to the machine. He stabs it into his drink and takes a long sip. “It’s awesome. Also?” He nods toward the machine. “You’re going to spill that.”

  I whip around. “Oh shit!” I yelp, slamming the slushie machine’s handle back into place. I’ve overfilled it. It hasn’t spilled, yet, but if Ash hadn’t said anything, it definitely would have. As it is, I don’t know how I am going to bring my extra-tall slushie to the guy at the counter with a straight face. The thing looks like a freaking mountain growing out the top of my cup.

  Crap.

  But Ash just chuckles behind me, and makes a grabby hand at my drink. “Come on,” he says, smiling. “Give it here.” As carefully as I can, I hand over my drink, and he hands me his and turns and starts making his way over to the counter. I can’t help but smile as I realize what he’s doing, and I snag myself a straw before turning to follow him.

  He’s letting me hold the normal one, so the guy at the counter won’t comment. And he actually manages to do it with a completely straight face, even when we get to the cashier and the guy’s eyes bug out of his head at the sight of my blue monster.

  “Thanks for that,” I say, once we’re back outside again.

  “No problem,” he replies, switching our drinks back and taking a sip of his own.

  I open my mouth to say something, but he cuts me off with a look and a crooked grin. “Seriously, Star. It was not a problem. Save your thanks for the big stuff.”

  “And just what are you doing here,” a voice calls out and we both whip around. I stifle a groan.

  It’s Lacey’s boyfriend, the one who was muttering shit about Ash in the diner the day we met. At least, I think it’s him. The other twin is right behind him, though, so it’s either Lacey’s boyfriend or his brother that’s being an asshole. Fantastic.

  The guy walks up to us, not waiting for a reply, and steps a little too close to Ash for my comfort. And judging by the look on Ash’s face, he’s not too fond of his new friend, either.

  “I guess you weren’t aware,” the guy says, getting up in Ash’s face, “but you’re not welcome here.” The guy has a good six inches on Ash and is staring right down at him. “So if you know what’s good for you, you’ll—”

  “Hey, Ash,” I say before the guy can finish whatever the hell his threat is going to be. What a tool. “We should probably get back to work.” I stick the straw into my drink and, as casually as I can manage, take a sip as I reach between the two guys with my free hand and grab Ash’s wrist.

  “’Scuse us,” I say to Preston or Clay or whoever the hell this guy thinks he is, and tug Ash out of the way. For a terrifying instant, Ash doesn’t budge under my grip, and I have visions of him shaking me off and him getting right back into this guy’s face. But I give one last tug and mercifully he relents and follows after me.

  We’re halfway to the car when the jerk behind us kind of sputters and I turn back to see him looking between us and his brother in confusion. The other twin doesn’t seem to be quite as angry as the first one. He’s actually smothering the beginnings of a grin. I hold up my blue monster of a slushie and give them a little salute. “You guys have a good day!” I call out, making my voice as fake and sweet as I can manage.

  My favorite foster father used to laugh and tell me I was going to grow up to be a smart ass. I’d been indignant back then, convinced he just wasn’t taking me seriously. But I’m starting to think that maybe he was right.

  When I look back again, the twins have disappeared inside the mini-mart, and I drop Ash’s hand, grinning. But when I look over at Ash, his face is pale despite the summer heat, and his eyes kind of flicker up to meet mine, hesitant.

  “Hey,” he says, and his voice is soft and I can hear just how much effort it’s taking him to get his throat to work. It makes my chest hurt. He clears his throat and tries again. “Thanks . . . thanks for that,” he says. “It’s just, the fucking people in this town . . . ”

  “It’s no problem,” I say, and grin at him while I take a sip of my slushie. He opens his mouth and tries again to get words out, but I stop him before he can. “Seriously, Ash. It wasn’t a problem. Save it for the big stuff,” I say, throwing his earlier words back at him. He kind of blinks at me for a second, then a smile starts to tug at the corner of his mouth and I know he got it. He snorts at me and takes a long suck of his disgusting drink and after a minute, he’s got some color back in his face.

  “All right, smarty-pants,” he says, and reaches his hand out, palm up. “Give me the keys.”

  I dig them out of my pocket and hand them over without hesitation, but I have to ask, “Why?”

  “Because it’s fucking boiling out here, and I’m going to take us someplace cool.” He heads to the driver’s side of the car, and I follow after him, ready to go wherever he takes me, because right now? Cool sounds like the best idea ever.

  ***

  “You’re a genius,” I tell him, kicking off my shoes and scrambling down onto one of the rocks on the shore. I sit down, the remainder of my slushie in hand, and stick my feet down into the water. It’s gloriously cool, and I sigh with relief. Behind me, Ash chuckles and hops down from rock to rock until he’s sitting on the one next to mine.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s the first time in my life anyone has actually referred to me like that,” he says, reaching down to yank off his own shoes. “I think I could get used to it.”

  “Keep coming up with good ideas, and you’ll have to,” I say, and lean back to press my back up against the bigger rock behind me. I take another long sip of my drink, and even though it’s more liquid than ice now, it’s still cool and refreshing. Between it and the lake and the shade from the trees above us, I’m actually starting to cool down. Off in the distance, I can see the beach on the other side of the lake. There are people splashing and swimming, little motorboats zipping back and forth across the water. But it all seems a million miles away. Where we are, it’s quiet.

  “How’d you even find this place?” I ask, because it’s not like you’d just stumble upon it. We had to park the car on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, and follow a dirt path nearly hidden in the underbrush through the forest before we got here.

  Ash smirks and dunks both his feet in the water at once, hard enough that the water splashes back and mists us with cool droplets. “Came down to the lake with my parents when I was a little kid,” he said. “They wanted to go to the beach—their friends were having some kind of fancy barbecue or something, I don’t know. They told me to go off and play with the other kids, but their friends’ kids never wanted to play with me, so I wandered off instead. Ended up here.” He looks out at the water, and he’s still smiling, but it’s not as bright as before. It’s almost sad. “I must have come out here a million times growing up. Whenever I just wanted to get away. The path was already there when I found it, but I’ve never seen anyone else here, so I figure it has to be pretty damn old. I probably wore it even deeper, coming out here so much.” He sighs and shifts until he’s lying flat on his back, his feet dangling over the side of the rock, staring up at the canopy of leaves above us.

  “Have you been back?” I ask. “You know, since you got out?” I shove the straw back in my mouth and force myself to take another long brain-freezing slurp. I can’t believe that I’m remin
ding him of his time in prison. What the hell is wrong with me? But Ash just shakes his head and stays quiet.

  Some time later, after I’ve finished my drink and we’ve been sitting there long enough to become lazy and sluggish, Ash groans and tugs himself back into a sitting position. “You know what?” he says to me. “Fuck it. I’m going for a swim.”

  I can feel my brow furrow. “Seriously?” I ask him. What brought this on?

  He nods and pulls himself to his feet. “I haven’t gone for a swim in five years. Longer, probably. I’m finally back here. I’m not going to let it go to waste.”

  Then he reaches down and pulls his T-shirt over his head and my mouth goes dry.

  Holy shit.

  Ash is gorgeous. He’s all smooth muscle and wide shoulders and he’s got this big solid black tattoo on his left shoulder that snakes down like smoke. My eyes follow it, desperate to figure out what it is, and that’s when I see them.

  The scars.

  Holy shit.

  Chapter 7

  Ash

  For a brief, glorious moment, I feel Star’s eyes on me, and I think she’s checking me out. And I want to throw my arms up in victory. Hot girl checking me out. Awesome.