12. Sunday

TWELVE

The last class let out about fifteen minutes ago, and I'm alone in the studio. Ash said he would be here in thirty minutes after letting me know he and Wade had lost track of time. I'm curious what the two of them did all day. I was under the impression he"d drop Wade off either here or with Stevie after the art store. Evidently, I was wrong. According to Janie, Ash called off work and spent the entire day with my son. I would be a liar if I said hearing this didn't affect me in a certain way. Most guys find out I have a kid, and they're apprehensive at best. But when they find out my son is close to thirteen and they realize my age, well, that ends the evening.

I sway my hips and grab my pole as the song changes on the speaker. It's not often I get to dance at my level since I'm always teaching. I effortlessly swing around the pole before sliding down, rocking my hips to the beat. I drop to my knees, grabbing the pole over my head and sliding around the floor before pulling myself back up the pole. I hear metal hitting the floor and jerk my head to find Ash scrambling to grab his keys.

"Oh," I say casually as I hang upside down on the pole. "Hey, charming. Where's my kid?"

"H-home," he says, his dark eyes looking over every inch of my body. "Indy is playing… cards or something." He trails off, and I give him a sly smirk as I turn myself upright.

"Charming," I purr flirtatiously. "Am I swooning you?"

He lets out a nervous puff of air. "There's a distinct possibility that my knees are a little weak." I release my hold on the pole as my feet touch the ground and laugh lightly.

"A little pole dancing is all it takes, huh? I have to say, I'm kind of disappointed," I tease while walking up to the sound system and turning off the music.

I reach down to grab my sweatpants and can't stop the smirk on my face when I hear Ash breathe out, "Jesus fucking Christ, thank you."

"Charming, you're a pig." I laugh as I slip my grey sweats over my black booty shorts. I grab my zip-up jacket and turn to put it on when I nearly crash into Ash. I let out a squeak of surprise while stumbling backward against my pole. Ash grabs my hips to steady me, and… fucking hell, his touch shouldn't feel as good as it does.

"Ash," I breathe out when he doesn't go to pull away. Why is he so close, anyway? I stare up at his tired face and into his deep, dark eyes, and I feel it. I feel the pull. I feel the heat on my hip as his thumb runs over my waistband. Flashes of me slamming into the mirror as his mouth covers every inch of me go through my brain. "What are you doing?" I ask, and my question seems to pull him out of his trance. Blinking, he releases me and takes a step back, taking his warmth with him.

"Sorry." He clears his throat and looks around the studio. "You're really good. Ever think about doing it professionally?" My face falls, and I watch the mortification appear on his now ghostly white face. "O-oh my god, no! I didn't mean… Not that there's anything wrong with strippers. I love them. Wait, no, I mean."

I think about allowing him to continue to dig himself further into this hole, but I'm tired and need a ride home, so I throw him a bone and laugh. "I was a stripper, but I made more money teaching, and I like not working late nights because I get to be home with Wade." I shrug, and I slip my socks and sneakers on.

"Sunshine, I really didn't mean anything by that. I meant dancing professionally, like on stage. I'm just a fucking idiot. You already told me that you can't. Sorry, I'm just…" I wave him off.

"Charming, I had a kid at thirteen, was thrown out by my family, and I've gone through a divorce. Trust me when I say you'll have to cut deeper than that to hurt this skin. You know I had to give it up once already. It's nice that you think I could, but my epilepsy got too bad, and the combination of medications the doctors were trying was making it hard to remember the moves for the dances. So, I had to quit. Got married, needed quick cash, and became a stripper. But my goal, once I sell this place and return to Alabama, is to open a ballet studio. I always wanted to teach kids and teens."

"That's amazing," Ash beams, and I'm taken back slightly. Most tell me that teaching kids ballet is a waste of time and giving up my very successful business to do that is irresponsible. "I remember Indy loved ballet when she was a kid. It gave her so much confidence, and she really needed it, too. Considering our childhood."

"Your childhood?" I ask, zipping up my jacket as we walk out of the dance studio and into the cooling night air.

"Ahh, yeah." He laughs almost uncomfortably. "My dad was not the best man, which I've mentioned before, I think. He left all of us when I was ten or eleven. So, she had to raise us on her own." I nod knowingly. Those struggles are all too familiar to me.

"That must've been hard for y'all," I say as evenly as possible, remembering how he reacted in the hospital after he opened up following my seizure.

Ash opens the passenger door for me, and I refuse to acknowledge the sweet gesture. "I mean, it wasn't great," he says, staring off into the distance as if remembering something. "I felt for a long time that it was my fault, you know? He was good to my mom before I was born, and then after," he trails off, and my heart aches for him. I think about Wade, and this here is my worst fear: my sweet, perfect son thinking for even a second that he wasn't good enough. The streetlights reflect in Ash's eyes, and I see the glassiness in them. Before I can stop myself, my hand reaches out and cups his cheek, startling us both.

"Sunday," he breathes as his hand gently wraps around my wrist.

"It wasn't your fault," I manage to get out through the growing lump in my throat. "Don't ever think that there was, or is, something wrong with you, Ash." His hand falls from my wrist to his side as he stares at me in shock. I watch his emotions raging across his face. In an instant, I'm pressed against the side of his car, and his hand grips the side of my jaw. I see the struggle, the war waging in his eyes.

"Fuck it," he growls as his lips capture mine and—oh fuck. I wrap my arms around his neck as both his hands grip my thighs, hoisting me up to wrap around his waist. I moan against his mouth as his tongue slips between my lips. He presses me harder against his car, causing me to let out a grunt. His kiss is fast and hungry, and I allow him to consume me. Pulling him tighter to me, I roll my hips, causing him to whimper against my mouth. His hands are so tight on my thighs I'm sure I'll have bruises there in the morning, but I don't care. I want more. I need more. I wrap my tongue around his before pulling back, dragging my teeth along his bottom lip and nibbling softly.

"Goddamn it," he whispers as he lets out a ragged breath. "Sunday," he murmurs my name while nuzzling into my neck. I moan as I grind against him again before slipping a hand between us and running down to his belt buckle. I fumble with the buckle before moving to the zipper of his pants. In an instant, the mood shifts, and his entire body stiffens. Pulling back, I look at his panicked face.

"Ash?" He blinks and shakes his head, letting me down.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, almost like he's scolding himself. "Sunday I'm… I'm so sorry; I don't know what I was thinking."

Okay, wow. His rejection is definitely not where I saw this going. I shrug my shoulders as I try to mask my disappointment and embarrassment. "No worries. If you ain't feeling it, you ain't feeling it." His brows droop and he looks so defeated.

"No. It's not…" He struggles to find whatever word he's looking for. But I don't need to hear it. I wave my hand dismissively and motion to the car.

"You taking me home, or am I catching the last bus?" I say, half joking. Ash looks contemplative for a moment before nodding.

"Come on." His voice is soft and resigned. "I need to get you home and get some sleep since your snoring kept me up last night." His smile doesn't reach his eyes, but I let it go, nodding as I climb into his car to start what I am sure will be a very quiet ride home.