Beholden (The Belonging Duet, #2)(59)

“I’ll be fine. I’m just being dramatic.”

“As usual,” I chide.

“Bite me.”

“You’d like it.”

“You know it.” Ashton laughs and then lets out a long, wavery sigh.

“I’ve spent most of my life listening to you tell me how I need to do things. Now it’s your turn.” I pause and when I see her blue eyes soften, I begin, “You have one of the kindest hearts I know, but it’s got a steel wall around it. I know you don’t let people in because it’s safer. But you, my friend, deserve love.”

Ashton wraps her arms around me. “Hello, pot … meet kettle. Your walls are thicker than mine.” Her brow raises and she tightens her hold.

“I don’t think so. If I had walls, then I wouldn’t be crumbling right now.”

When the movers packed up my belongings, they found the note from the night Jackson left after the fight with Neil. I held that tiny scrap of paper in my hands for hours and cried. Tears ran continuously as I stared at the words that were my lifeline when he left. I held on to that promise he made during his absence and brush with death. He was everything for me. I wanted a life with him, but in the end, I’m left battered and bruised—again.

“Sometimes you have to crumble because you had cracks and now you’ll be crackless.”

I laugh and so does Ashton. “You’re an ass.”

“A crackless ass?” Ash smiles and tries to look at her own ass.

“I think there’s a crack in a few places,” I giggle and hug her tightly. “I’m serious, Ash, you need to let people in. Let them see the sweet, warm, and caring person you are. You don’t always have to be such a bitch.”

She pulls back from my embrace and looks at me. “I know. And you … I’ve watched you spend weeks pulling yourself together and pretending you’re fine. I’ve seen you get up, get dressed, get promoted, all with a broken heart. You don’t have to hide behind your armor but you choose to. I’m not half as strong as you. When Gary left me after college to go live his passions, I lost mine. I don’t want to feel that again.”

Gary and Ashton were perfect for each other. They met in college and had a whirlwind love. He promised her the world and left her destroyed. Gary was in a band and they had a song hit big. He packed up, left without a backward glance. It was as if she was completely irrelevant. She never cried or fell apart. Instead, she refused to love again.

“If it were me, what would you say?” I ask.

She huffs and stands, “I’d tell you what I always do. But you’re different. You have a heart. Mine shriveled up and died.”

“Oh, Ash,” I stand and envelope her in a hug. “You have a heart. A very big heart.”

“Who’s going to kick my ass when I’m being a twunt?” she asks earnestly.

I look at her with sad eyes, not knowing what to say. We’ve both relied on each other and seeing her vulnerable leaves me at a loss.

“I’ll still kick your ass, it’ll just be from across the country.”

“Damn, you’ve got some long legs,” Ashton says in only the way she can. “Okay, enough with the heavy shit. Let’s go pretend like you’re only going on a business trip instead of leaving me alone and depressed.”

I shake my head at her craziness. “You’ll be fine. Come on, let’s get you drunk, Ashypoo, so I have something to make fun of you about.” I loop my arm in hers and we head out of the house. We grab the train and head into Manhattan to meet Gretchen.

Let’s hope tonight isn’t a repeat of the last time the three of us went out.





“I’m still pissed at you,” Gretchen says as she stands outside of the swanky new bar we’re meeting at.

“Well, hello to you too,” I say laughing at her greeting.

She grabs me and pulls me into a hug. “I can’t stay mad at you. It’s not your fault you’re an idiot. I blame it on you living with Ashton for so long.”

I swear, only my friends.

“I resent that!” Ashton exclaims from behind me. “Maybe her stupid rubbed off on me.”

“Not likely,” she giggles and I wink at Ashton.

“Bitches,” Ashton grumbles from behind us as we walk on.

We enter the bar and the music squashes the remainder of their argument. It’s a beautiful, new building in the fashion district of Manhattan. I heard about it from a client last week and she got us on the list. She claimed it has the best drinks and hottest bartenders, which was all we needed to hear. I wanted to cancel because of the laundry list of things piling up. But they demanded this was not an optional invitation.

I take in the dark purples and blues, its robust color scheme giving a sexy yet elegant feel. I find myself moving my hips to the bass pumping through the room. But the music is so loud we’ll never be able to talk.

“Rooftop?” I ask when we notice it has a VIP rooftop bar.

They both nod and we head over to the bouncer who lets us pass with a smile. I’m wearing a black, strapless, tight dress with my hair down, Ashton’s boobs are barely covered, and Gretchen’s ass is hanging out. I’m shocked—or not. The three of us are dressed to the nines for our last night out.