Hearts on Air
Page 6
I opened my mouth to answer, but before I could get a word in Trev interrupted. “Tell me, Ashington…”
“It’s Ashley.”
“Well, that makes it so much better. Tell me, do you always come onto other men’s girlfriends while you work, or is this just a one-time thing?”
Ash raised an eyebrow. “Is she your girlfriend?”
“No, but…”
“Well then, that answers your question.”
“No, it doesn’t. For all you know we could be married with three adorable children.”
Ash smirked. “I took a wild guess.”
“Oh yeah?”
I eyed Trev, not getting where all this hostility was coming from. He’d just told me one day I’d meet a man and fall in love, yet here he was hardly an hour later, vagina-blocking the shit out of me. I nudged him in the elbow as he stared Ash down.
“Quit being weird.”
“I’m not being weird. I’m simply questioning this young man’s ignoble intentions.”
I scoffed at that, because Ash was clearly a couple years older than Trev. Instead of engaging him, Ash reached under the counter and grabbed a pen, then proceeded to scribble something on a napkin. He set it in front of me and I peered down to see his phone number.
“In case you ever want to go out,” he said, giving Trev a look before returning his gaze to me. When he went to serve the people at the other end of the bar, I turned my attention to my friend, who at least had the decency to look sheepish. He lifted his drink and took a sip. I folded my arms and cocked my head. He pretended to peruse the liquor bottles stacked in a row along the shelf. I cleared my throat.
“Care to explain what that was all about?”
“I was saving your bacon. You don’t want to date a barman, Reyrey. Bunch of sluts, the lot of ‘em.”
“And how to do you know? Have you met every barman in the whole entire world?”
“I’ve met my fair share. Though the Greeks are by far the sluttiest. When me and the lads went to Santorini last year, there was this bartender who got off with a new bird every night. Lots of tourists there, so it was a target rich environment, but still.”
“Well, Ash doesn’t look Greek to me.”
“No, he looks like a tosser.”
“Trev!”
“What? You know it’s true. And anyway, I’m sick of this bearded trend that’s been going around. Contrary to popular belief, not all blokes look good with facial hair. They think it gives them automatic hunk status. Well, I’m sorry, but you just look like a nerd with a beard. Or a fat bloke with a beard. Or a big nosed sod with a beard.”
“Wow, you’ve really got a bee in your bonnet about this. Is it because you can’t grow one yourself?” I asking, goading him. It was rare that Trev got riled, so I was taking advantage of the opportunity to tease him.
“I’ll have you know I can grow a beard just fine. I simply choose not to. Besides, who’d want to cover up this glorious face?”
“Hmmm, sounds like the gentleman doth protest too much,” I grinned around a sip of my cocktail.
He levelled me with a serious look. “Is that another challenge?”
“Would you like it to be?”
He let out a long sigh. “No. Look, all I’m saying is, I care about you. And I don’t want you going out with some arsehole who doesn’t appreciate how wonderful you are.”
I had to admit, I was touched by the compliment and the ferocity in his voice. “Yes well, you don’t need to worry. I don’t fancy him anyway.”
Now Trev smiled. “I knew you had good taste.”
“Oh, whatever, just admit that you were jealous. And I’m not saying you were jealous in the romantic sense. I’m saying you were jealous in the possessive sense. You don’t like the idea of me dating someone, because it’d mean I wouldn’t be available at your beck and call like I am now. You might not admit it, but you need me, Trev. You’ve become accustomed to having me around.”
I finished speaking and he stared at me for a long moment, a slow, lazy smile gracing his lips. It did something weird to the pit of my stomach. “Fine, you’re right. I like having you around, and I don’t like anyone taking you away. You’re my BFF. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Ha! I knew it.”
He ran a hand down his face. “You’ve turned me into one of those psycho girls who get jealous when their bestie starts spending all their time with a new boyfriend.”
“That just about sums up your personality to a T. And I don’t even have a boyfriend yet.”
“Exactly. I’m gonna go full-on bunny boiler when you start seeing someone. I’ll probably even hire a private investigator to make sure he’s on the level, like Jennifer Anniston did when she first started seeing Brad.”
I let out a surprised chuckle. “How do you even know that?”
“I read TMZ,” he replied humorously.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.”
“I’m not lying. Now come on, drink up. We need to get a move on if we want to make it to our next destination.”
Part II
Even though it was only one cocktail, I felt decidedly tipsy as we made our way to the rave. I knew the whole thing wasn’t technically legal when Trev began helping me climb over a railing that blocked the entrance to the old tube station. He bent to give me a leg up and let out a weird grunting sound. Instead of getting embarrassed, I decided to find humour in the situation.
“I’m not the lightest piece of timber in the crate,” I said, chuckling as Trev made a concerted effort to lift me.
“Yeah, but it’s all in the boobs and arse,” he threw back cheekily. I made it to the top of the railing, but my dress got caught in a section of pointed metal. As I swung my leg over, it shifted, revealing my black cotton underwear for all the world to see. And when I say all the world, I mean Trevor Cross. He waggled his brows as I hurried to pull my dress back down.
“Nice undies,” he said, grinning.
I tried for casual, even though my pulse was racing at the way his gaze traced the line of my underwear. “You should see the ones I wear on special occasions. They put these everyday knickers to shame.”
“It’s Ashley.”
“Well, that makes it so much better. Tell me, do you always come onto other men’s girlfriends while you work, or is this just a one-time thing?”
Ash raised an eyebrow. “Is she your girlfriend?”
“No, but…”
“Well then, that answers your question.”
“No, it doesn’t. For all you know we could be married with three adorable children.”
Ash smirked. “I took a wild guess.”
“Oh yeah?”
I eyed Trev, not getting where all this hostility was coming from. He’d just told me one day I’d meet a man and fall in love, yet here he was hardly an hour later, vagina-blocking the shit out of me. I nudged him in the elbow as he stared Ash down.
“Quit being weird.”
“I’m not being weird. I’m simply questioning this young man’s ignoble intentions.”
I scoffed at that, because Ash was clearly a couple years older than Trev. Instead of engaging him, Ash reached under the counter and grabbed a pen, then proceeded to scribble something on a napkin. He set it in front of me and I peered down to see his phone number.
“In case you ever want to go out,” he said, giving Trev a look before returning his gaze to me. When he went to serve the people at the other end of the bar, I turned my attention to my friend, who at least had the decency to look sheepish. He lifted his drink and took a sip. I folded my arms and cocked my head. He pretended to peruse the liquor bottles stacked in a row along the shelf. I cleared my throat.
“Care to explain what that was all about?”
“I was saving your bacon. You don’t want to date a barman, Reyrey. Bunch of sluts, the lot of ‘em.”
“And how to do you know? Have you met every barman in the whole entire world?”
“I’ve met my fair share. Though the Greeks are by far the sluttiest. When me and the lads went to Santorini last year, there was this bartender who got off with a new bird every night. Lots of tourists there, so it was a target rich environment, but still.”
“Well, Ash doesn’t look Greek to me.”
“No, he looks like a tosser.”
“Trev!”
“What? You know it’s true. And anyway, I’m sick of this bearded trend that’s been going around. Contrary to popular belief, not all blokes look good with facial hair. They think it gives them automatic hunk status. Well, I’m sorry, but you just look like a nerd with a beard. Or a fat bloke with a beard. Or a big nosed sod with a beard.”
“Wow, you’ve really got a bee in your bonnet about this. Is it because you can’t grow one yourself?” I asking, goading him. It was rare that Trev got riled, so I was taking advantage of the opportunity to tease him.
“I’ll have you know I can grow a beard just fine. I simply choose not to. Besides, who’d want to cover up this glorious face?”
“Hmmm, sounds like the gentleman doth protest too much,” I grinned around a sip of my cocktail.
He levelled me with a serious look. “Is that another challenge?”
“Would you like it to be?”
He let out a long sigh. “No. Look, all I’m saying is, I care about you. And I don’t want you going out with some arsehole who doesn’t appreciate how wonderful you are.”
I had to admit, I was touched by the compliment and the ferocity in his voice. “Yes well, you don’t need to worry. I don’t fancy him anyway.”
Now Trev smiled. “I knew you had good taste.”
“Oh, whatever, just admit that you were jealous. And I’m not saying you were jealous in the romantic sense. I’m saying you were jealous in the possessive sense. You don’t like the idea of me dating someone, because it’d mean I wouldn’t be available at your beck and call like I am now. You might not admit it, but you need me, Trev. You’ve become accustomed to having me around.”
I finished speaking and he stared at me for a long moment, a slow, lazy smile gracing his lips. It did something weird to the pit of my stomach. “Fine, you’re right. I like having you around, and I don’t like anyone taking you away. You’re my BFF. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Ha! I knew it.”
He ran a hand down his face. “You’ve turned me into one of those psycho girls who get jealous when their bestie starts spending all their time with a new boyfriend.”
“That just about sums up your personality to a T. And I don’t even have a boyfriend yet.”
“Exactly. I’m gonna go full-on bunny boiler when you start seeing someone. I’ll probably even hire a private investigator to make sure he’s on the level, like Jennifer Anniston did when she first started seeing Brad.”
I let out a surprised chuckle. “How do you even know that?”
“I read TMZ,” he replied humorously.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.”
“I’m not lying. Now come on, drink up. We need to get a move on if we want to make it to our next destination.”
Part II
Even though it was only one cocktail, I felt decidedly tipsy as we made our way to the rave. I knew the whole thing wasn’t technically legal when Trev began helping me climb over a railing that blocked the entrance to the old tube station. He bent to give me a leg up and let out a weird grunting sound. Instead of getting embarrassed, I decided to find humour in the situation.
“I’m not the lightest piece of timber in the crate,” I said, chuckling as Trev made a concerted effort to lift me.
“Yeah, but it’s all in the boobs and arse,” he threw back cheekily. I made it to the top of the railing, but my dress got caught in a section of pointed metal. As I swung my leg over, it shifted, revealing my black cotton underwear for all the world to see. And when I say all the world, I mean Trevor Cross. He waggled his brows as I hurried to pull my dress back down.
“Nice undies,” he said, grinning.
I tried for casual, even though my pulse was racing at the way his gaze traced the line of my underwear. “You should see the ones I wear on special occasions. They put these everyday knickers to shame.”
