Nothing Left to Lose
Page 170
My teeth sank into my bottom lip as a rush of emotion made my heart speed up. It was an unfamiliar sensation to me, but I knew what it was. It was love.
I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat. It terrified me, being in love again. I didn’t like it. Most people would say that being in love was the best feeling in the world, and to some degree, I would agree with them, but not when all you could think about was losing it or watching something awful happen so that your heart shatters into a thousand tiny, jagged little pieces. No, being in love was more frightening than gratifying.
As I looked away from him, my gaze settled on the wall of glass opposite the bed. Looking out over the ocean that sparkled like a thousand diamonds sat just below the surface, I realised that as magnificent as the view was to wake up to, it actually had nothing on waking and seeing Ashton.
His arms tightened on me in his sleep as he fidgeted, let out a rather loud, nasal snore, and then licked his lips a couple of times, blissfully unaware that I was awake and panicking about being in love with him.
As I lay in Ashton’s arms, my thoughts turned to Jack. I had never thought I would have someone in my life again after him, in fact, I thought he was it. My one true love. But maybe, as a silly immature sixteen year old girl, maybe I didn’t have any idea of what true love really was back then. This felt different with Ashton, I felt different. Maybe this was a different kind of love than what I had for Jack. Somehow, it felt deeper. I loved Jack so incredibly much, but I was in love with Ashton. To me, there was a gulf of a difference. Ashton was just special, he was the one I needed and the one that understood me and accepted the messed up girl that I was now. He was the one that I felt totally and utterly at home with. He was everything that was good in my world. If I had to choose a cliché term, I would say that Ashton Taylor was my soul mate, and the one that was designed to be my other half.
After almost half an hour of just lying there, worrying about things, going over things and realising that I had no control over my emotions anymore, I decided that the best thing I could do now was to try and ignore it and to order him some breakfast – after all, the way to his heart was certainly through his stomach.
Getting out of bed without him noticing was always a tricky affair, and it took a lot of wriggling and slow movements. As I finally managed to worm my way out of his arms, I shoved my pillow back into my place, watching as his arms immediately hugged the pillow to his chest, completely unaware that it wasn’t me.
I slipped on his shirt from the previous night and then padded into the lounge, finding the menus for the little café that apparently delivered the food straight to your villa. After scanning it for a few seconds, I picked up the phone and ordered what I guessed he would want.
The food didn’t take long to arrive, and the waiter guy carried in a large tray, setting it on the table for me. Once he was gone, I made sure to lock the door, just like Ashton would want me to, and then I carried the heavy tray into the bedroom. He was still asleep, hugging the pillow to his chest affectionately.
“Ashton?” I whispered.
His arms tightened on the pillow. “Mmm?” he mumbled with his eyes closed.
“Pretty Boy, wake up. I ordered breakfast,” I cooed, stopping at the foot of the bed.
His eyes snapped open at the mention of food, and he looked straight down at the pillow in his arms, clearly confused because it wasn’t me. I chuckled wickedly at his bemused expression and finally his sleepy eyes settled on me. “Hey,” he rasped.
I grinned, nodding at the pillow as he dropped it back onto the bed and sat up. “Who’s your friend?” I joked.
He laughed and swung his legs out of the bed, throwing off the white sheet that covered his body. My eyes widened and I seemed to lose control of them as they immediately flitted down his body, taking in every glorious, naked inch of him.
“Pervert,” he scolded playfully.
I shrugged unashamedly. “So arrest me,” I replied breathlessly, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip as I imagined running my tongue across the V line at his hips and following it all the way down…
The tray was taken out of my hands and set on the bed, and then strong, tanned arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me against his hard body. “Good morning,” he whispered, bending his head and capturing my lips in the first kiss of the day.
I sighed dreamily and nodded. “It is now.”
He grinned boyishly and pulled back. “So where shall we eat?” he asked, pulling on a pair of shorts from the drawer, thwarting my inappropriate examination of his body.
I gulped, snapping out of my little fantasy and forced my eyes back to his again. “Terrace?” Any place with him would be fine with me.
He nodded, picking up the tray and we both made our way out to the terrace, sitting on the little table. I clipped up the umbrella to provide some shade while we ate so that we didn’t burn. As Ashton lifted the two silver lids from the plates, he moaned in appreciation at the pile of French toast that sat there for him. It was his favourite by far, and something I usually only made for him at the weekends.
As he poured two cups of coffee, his hand suddenly stilled and he frowned over at me. “Wait, where the hell did you get this food from?”
“Room service?” I answered, unsure what I’d done to spark his angry expression.
His mouth popped open as he shook his head in disbelief. “You ordered room service and answered the door while I was still asleep?” he asked incredulously.
I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat. It terrified me, being in love again. I didn’t like it. Most people would say that being in love was the best feeling in the world, and to some degree, I would agree with them, but not when all you could think about was losing it or watching something awful happen so that your heart shatters into a thousand tiny, jagged little pieces. No, being in love was more frightening than gratifying.
As I looked away from him, my gaze settled on the wall of glass opposite the bed. Looking out over the ocean that sparkled like a thousand diamonds sat just below the surface, I realised that as magnificent as the view was to wake up to, it actually had nothing on waking and seeing Ashton.
His arms tightened on me in his sleep as he fidgeted, let out a rather loud, nasal snore, and then licked his lips a couple of times, blissfully unaware that I was awake and panicking about being in love with him.
As I lay in Ashton’s arms, my thoughts turned to Jack. I had never thought I would have someone in my life again after him, in fact, I thought he was it. My one true love. But maybe, as a silly immature sixteen year old girl, maybe I didn’t have any idea of what true love really was back then. This felt different with Ashton, I felt different. Maybe this was a different kind of love than what I had for Jack. Somehow, it felt deeper. I loved Jack so incredibly much, but I was in love with Ashton. To me, there was a gulf of a difference. Ashton was just special, he was the one I needed and the one that understood me and accepted the messed up girl that I was now. He was the one that I felt totally and utterly at home with. He was everything that was good in my world. If I had to choose a cliché term, I would say that Ashton Taylor was my soul mate, and the one that was designed to be my other half.
After almost half an hour of just lying there, worrying about things, going over things and realising that I had no control over my emotions anymore, I decided that the best thing I could do now was to try and ignore it and to order him some breakfast – after all, the way to his heart was certainly through his stomach.
Getting out of bed without him noticing was always a tricky affair, and it took a lot of wriggling and slow movements. As I finally managed to worm my way out of his arms, I shoved my pillow back into my place, watching as his arms immediately hugged the pillow to his chest, completely unaware that it wasn’t me.
I slipped on his shirt from the previous night and then padded into the lounge, finding the menus for the little café that apparently delivered the food straight to your villa. After scanning it for a few seconds, I picked up the phone and ordered what I guessed he would want.
The food didn’t take long to arrive, and the waiter guy carried in a large tray, setting it on the table for me. Once he was gone, I made sure to lock the door, just like Ashton would want me to, and then I carried the heavy tray into the bedroom. He was still asleep, hugging the pillow to his chest affectionately.
“Ashton?” I whispered.
His arms tightened on the pillow. “Mmm?” he mumbled with his eyes closed.
“Pretty Boy, wake up. I ordered breakfast,” I cooed, stopping at the foot of the bed.
His eyes snapped open at the mention of food, and he looked straight down at the pillow in his arms, clearly confused because it wasn’t me. I chuckled wickedly at his bemused expression and finally his sleepy eyes settled on me. “Hey,” he rasped.
I grinned, nodding at the pillow as he dropped it back onto the bed and sat up. “Who’s your friend?” I joked.
He laughed and swung his legs out of the bed, throwing off the white sheet that covered his body. My eyes widened and I seemed to lose control of them as they immediately flitted down his body, taking in every glorious, naked inch of him.
“Pervert,” he scolded playfully.
I shrugged unashamedly. “So arrest me,” I replied breathlessly, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip as I imagined running my tongue across the V line at his hips and following it all the way down…
The tray was taken out of my hands and set on the bed, and then strong, tanned arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me against his hard body. “Good morning,” he whispered, bending his head and capturing my lips in the first kiss of the day.
I sighed dreamily and nodded. “It is now.”
He grinned boyishly and pulled back. “So where shall we eat?” he asked, pulling on a pair of shorts from the drawer, thwarting my inappropriate examination of his body.
I gulped, snapping out of my little fantasy and forced my eyes back to his again. “Terrace?” Any place with him would be fine with me.
He nodded, picking up the tray and we both made our way out to the terrace, sitting on the little table. I clipped up the umbrella to provide some shade while we ate so that we didn’t burn. As Ashton lifted the two silver lids from the plates, he moaned in appreciation at the pile of French toast that sat there for him. It was his favourite by far, and something I usually only made for him at the weekends.
As he poured two cups of coffee, his hand suddenly stilled and he frowned over at me. “Wait, where the hell did you get this food from?”
“Room service?” I answered, unsure what I’d done to spark his angry expression.
His mouth popped open as he shook his head in disbelief. “You ordered room service and answered the door while I was still asleep?” he asked incredulously.
