“A Kyden kind of relationship is a relationship I’ll never have.”

Her statement stunned me. Ashlyn spent all of her time getting lost in her books and stepping into the pages of her favorite romance novels, yet she didn’t believe that she would get that? She was Queen of the happily-ever-afters. My head went crazy with scenarios about why she believed she’d never have it.

“Why do you think you’ll never have something like Ky and Eden?”

“Kyden.” She corrected me.

“I am not calling them Kyden,” I said, groaning at the craziness of that nickname. To be honest, I couldn’t wait to get on the phone and tell him of this new development.

“You will.”

“Ashlyn?”

“Ashlyn and relationships go together as well as Josh and monogamy. I have all but given up, so from now on I’ll get my romance from my books and my orgasms from my vibrator. Book boyfriends never let me down, but even if they do, I know I’ll always get a happily-ever-after.”

She placed her empty bowl on the table and moved so she was facing me. Her legs were folded and her hands clasped in her lap. She observed me with intention, like she was assessing whether this was a conversation she wanted to have with me. I mimicked her movements, leaning forward and placing my bowl beside hers. She lifted her beer to her lips and continued looking at me over the neck. The silence was torture.

“I’m clearly not good at relationships. My track record speaks volumes, and I only seem to attract men who want me for what’s between my thighs. I’m not enough for people, Josh. My history shows that, my relationship with my parents shows that, but I’ve come to deal with it. That’s why I won’t experience a Kyden kind of relationship.”

“Tell me about your parents,” I pressed through gritted teeth. I had a billion things I wanted to say to her. The fact that people had made her feel like she wasn’t enough caused me to want to commit a felony. But I had her talking, and if I could learn more about her, I would bite my tongue for the moment.

“They weren’t around much. Well, they were, but weren’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“I grew up not really getting too much love. The people who should have showered me with love didn’t get the memo, and the only one that gave me any form of affection was Austin.” Her gaze dropped to her hands in her lap, and she began chipping off her nail polish. “I had a house, clothes, food—the best of everything, really. To everyone looking in, we were the perfect family, but my parents didn’t have motherly or fatherly bones in their bodies. To be honest, I don’t know why they had Austin and I. Grandma basically raised us, and her and Austin have been the only ones to ever love or care for me unconditionally. You’ve heard the term trophy wives? Well, Austin and I were trophy children. We were only wanted and needed when our parents had to look good for the camera, and because of that I’ve felt like an inconvenience my whole life.”

Her eyes bounced around the apartment, avoiding any chance of meeting mine. Her whole facade was cracking, and I was seeing the little girl that hid behind the mask of a confident woman. The innocence, the fear, and the naked admissions of her past were hard for her to divulge, but here she was, sharing them with me. The fact that she had to deal with this her whole life and that her asshole parents didn’t realize the prize they had, riled me. She was anything but an inconvenience; she was a life-changing gift.

“Sorry for dumping all this on you,” she said softly.

“Look at me, Ash.”

Finally, her eyes met mine and she offered the most nervous smile I’d ever witnessed.

“You never have to apologize to me about sharing stuff. I’ve known you for almost five years, and this is the first time I’ve heard about this. You are far from an inconvenience, Ashlyn, and anyone that has you in their life should treat you like fucking royalty. I’ve never met your parents, and I hope I never do because I don’t want to I wish I could thank the woman that raised you because she did a great job.”

“Grandma would have liked you. She would have flirted with you like crazy, though. She had a thing for handsome men, and she was never one to hide that fact,” she said wistfully, and the smile I saw in the bathroom came out again.

“Did you just call me handsome?” I smirked with a lifted brow of suggestion. “You’ll make me blush, Ashy.”

“Oh, please. You know you’re handsome, and there is nothing I could ever say that would make you blush.”

“I’d be happy to have you try.”

She pulled the cushion from behind her and threw it at my head. The seriousness of our conversation seemed to have vanished, although it continued to swirl in my head.

After stumbling out of my bedroom just after eight A.M., I ran my hand through my crazy bed hair and stepped into my living room. The air was filled with the tempting aroma of sizzling bacon, and my stomach growled in response.

I entered the kitchen, and was greeted by a sight any man would want to see first thing in the morning. Ashlyn was dancing around my kitchen in barely-there bed shorts, with her hips wiggling and her hair flying everywhere, while humming along to some song I didn’t recognize. I leaned against the door frame, crossed my arms over my chest, and watched her with interest. Jesus Christ, I wanted inside her again. I wanted the feeling that I got all those years ago—the feeling of innocence, of mind-altering pleasure that came with sharing a moment with someone that was so unexpected. I wanted the feeling of complete shock at the unleashing of feelings you never thought you’d feel. That’s what Ashlyn was. Even beyond having sex with her, she’d provide me with those feelings that would mess with my head.

“She cooks me dinner and makes me breakfast. Watch out, Ashy, I may never let you leave.”

Ashlyn froze mid twirl and whipped her body around to face me. Shock covered her face, and her cheeks flushed pink at the thought of being caught dancing around in my kitchen. I shot her a wink and headed to the fridge to grab the orange juice.

“You love tormenting me, don’t you?” I said while pouring both of us a glass and sliding one to her. I couldn’t stop myself from running my eyes over her body yet again. F#@k those shorts should come with a serious warning: hard on is guaranteed.

“What are you talking about?” She scrunched her face up in confusion, before turning back to the cooktop to tend to the sizzling bacon.

My hand shot out like it had a mind of its own and connected lightly with her ass.

Her reaction was immediate, and she jumped with a yelp.

“That is what I mean about tormenting me.”

The bacon was soon forgotten, and she twisted around until she was standing barely an inch from me. “Joshua, keep your hand away from my ass.” She laughed, dramatically rubbing her ass and giving it a little wiggle for good measure. “My ass if off-limits.”

“Well, Ashlyn, keep your ass from looking so spankable and I will. Otherwise, your ass is mine.”

“Did you just make up a word? I am pretty sure spankable isn’t in the dictionary.”

“I have many words when it comes to your ass,” I murmured, and focused once again on her poor excuse for bed shorts.

The sound of cutlery dropping to the floor broke me from my stare, and I finally looked at her.

Amusement flashed over her make-up free face. “Oh, crap. I just dropped a spoon,” she said in a low, husky tone. As if I was watching in slow motion, she bent over at her waist and made a point to stick her ass in my direction. Then she wiggled it to make a point. “Have a good look, ‘cause you aren’t touching it.”

“You’re the spawn of Satan, aren’t you? Because only Satan’s daughter would wiggle her tight ass in front of the guy she just said would never touch it.”