Series: Fever Falls Series by Riley Hart
Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“I can’t really talk to you about it,” I replied. Sharing that I was happy with Ash would be outing him, and regardless of what she knew, or thought she knew, it wasn’t my place to do that.
“I understand. Moms know all. And I approve.”
As much as I appreciated what she said, I had to be honest with her. “Don’t get your hopes up, okay? Things aren’t always what they seem.” Yes, Ash and I had fun together, and we were…something, but I didn’t want her to think there would be more. Ash being in the closet complicated things. Our lives being so different complicated things. He was happy in Fever Falls at the moment, but I wasn’t foolish enough to think he’d want to stay there. After he licked his wounds, he would realize the world was open for him. He could have or do anything he wanted. In some ways, nothing had changed. I would always be second in everything related to Ash.
“Wanna lick my spoon?” Ash turned to me, wagging his eyebrows…and his face paled. It was as if he’d just noticed what he’d said in front of my family. Fear burned in his eyes as they darted to Kenny and then my mom. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit the sting of disappointment I felt, even though I knew the score.
Kenny didn’t notice a thing as he picked up the pan and went for the oven.
“Here, let me open it for you, Kenny,” Mom told him, and I knew she was pretending not to notice Ash’s obvious insecurity.
I walked over, plucked the spoon from his hand, and licked some chocolate off. “I’d love to lick your spoon.” After a quick glance to see Kenny and Mom had their backs to us, I leaned in and whispered, “It’s okay. You can be yourself here. And if you’re not ready, that’s fine too. Not everyone knows you’re full of sexual innuendo.”
“Well, shit. I must not be very good at it, then,” Ash replied, his voice holding a slight waver.
“Can you repeat that after I take my phone out? I’d love to have on camera your admission to not being good at something. Even if it is a lie.”
“Good save, Campbell.”
“Eh, gotta keep your head big, Carmichael. I like it that way.”
His eyes darted down, and I could have sworn there was a tinge of pink to his cheeks. I still wasn’t used to vulnerable Ash.
“Can we play catch, Beau? I wanna practice,” Kenny asked once the cake was in the oven.
“What about the half-cooked dinner and cake?” Mom crossed her arms.
Three pairs of eyes turned her way, and I had no doubt Ash and Kenny were silently pleading with her the same way I was.
“Please, Mrs. Campbell?” Ash asked, and Mom laughed, shaking her head.
“Just a bunch of kids, you are. Go on. I’ll finish the food.”
We made a beeline for the backyard, as though we were twelve and being set free to play until the streetlights came on.
Ash and I spent an hour playing ball with Kenny. There were times I just sat back and watched Ash with Kenny, in wonder. Saw Ash in his element, with a football in his hand, but saw a different side of him too. The teacher, the coach, the pure love he had of the game itself. Saw Kenny soak it up in ways he didn’t even do with me. Ash was a natural, and Kenny seemed to want to soak up every bit of knowledge he had.
It again reminded me of that day in the park when we were in high school—of teaching Kenny to catch. Until Ash came back, I hadn’t thought about that in years, hadn’t let myself because I’d wanted to ignore anything about Ash that made me feel emotions other than annoyance. But it had been there even then.
“You bird-watching over there or what, Campbell?” Ash asked, pulling me from my musings.
“I thought you were supposed to be funny?” I teased.
Ash clutched at his chest. “Why you always breaking my heart? My humor is my armor, ya know?”
Yeah, yeah, I did.
Before I realized what was happening, Ash tossed me the ball. My instincts made me catch it, and then he was going for me, tackling me to the ground. We wrestled around, me trying to hold the ball and Ash trying to get it from me. Then the ball was gone and it was just us, rolling around, trying to one-up each other because that’s who Ash and I were. It was always a competition.
I managed to roll over on top of him, Ash on his back, my groin between his legs. We were breathing heavily, and there was grass in his hair. “I win,” I whispered as I held him down.
“You sure about that, Campbell?” he replied.