5. Ash

FIVE

"Thank you so much!" The teary-eyed woman beams at me before looking at the finished half-sleeve of bright pink cherry blossoms.

"You're welcome! They look beautiful on you!" I give her a side hug before sending her upfront so that Janie can check her out and get her set with aftercare instructions. Releasing a sigh, I begin stripping down my station to sanitize it and prepare for the next client. Today's been a busy day, and while I'm usually annoyed when I accidentally overbook myself, it's been so nice not being home for the last three days. I get here around nine in the morning, long before anyone else, and I don't leave until one or two in the morning. I went to the gym one night and the bar last night, so I'm home for like three hours before coming back in. It's great being so busy. I mean, I'm fucking exhausted, but doing all of this means there's less of a chance I'll run into her.

Sunday Sutton, the bane of my existence. Not only did her Dash nickname stick like glue around here, but she's also made fun of my clothes twice now. Well, not the clothes, but the amount of money I spend on them. It bothers me, and I'm not sure why. I didn't always have money; before Hel's, I had nothing. I was broke. I hated my job, and I was with Shannon, who regularly reminded me how little I was worth in every sense of the word. I couldn't buy her nice things. I couldn't get the expensive apartment downtown, the nice car, the trips, purses, and designer clothes. All the things she expected from me, and I failed to live up to her expectations every time. She would never let me forget what a disappointment I was. And god forbid I was ever paid a compliment by anyone about how I looked or if I measured up in bed.

When we broke up and I started making money at Hel's, I wanted to detach so far from the man she broke. I wanted to be a different person, one that I knew women would be attracted to. I began working out constantly and started partying. I researched what was the best of the best and learned to love whatever it was. And now here I am feeling that same shit feeling that Shannon made me feel from Sunday, except it's now because I have too much.

"Hey," Derek's gruff voice pulls me out of my trance. I glance up at the man and raise a brow. Derek's an old man who has no business making the eyes he does at my baby sister every time she comes into the shop. "It's my turn to make the drink run."

"Redbull," I state crisply, causing him to raise his brow at me.

"Do we have a problem?" he asks, and I stand up, squaring my shoulders while staring directly into his eyes.

"I don't know, Virginia, do we?" I ask, knowing the nickname Atlas gave him years ago pisses him off. His right eye twitches only once, but I smirk in victory.

"Are you two about to kiss?" Atlas asks, breaking our stare down. I blink and step back.

"Redbull," I say again as Derek grumbles something under his breath before heading out.

Fox sighs and shakes his head while tossing his glasses onto his station. "You and Derek need to stop this pissing match you're having," he warns, and I roll my eyes.

"Sorry, Dad."

"Hey!" Atlas snaps. "It's Papa Fox, fucker."

"Look, none of us gets along with him. Why is he even still here?" I slam the trash into the wastebasket with more force than necessary.

"I know you aren't riding Derek's ass again," Janie calls from the front of the shop, and goddamn it, can there be one person on my side?

"I see how he looks at Indy," I start, and the entire group groans as if they've heard it before, probably because they have.

"Ash," Fox pinches the bridge of his nose. "Derek doesn't have any interest in your sister, trust me."

I furrow my brow. "And how do you know? Did you ask him?"

"Because," Janie interrupts as all five feet of her standing before me. I have a tiny sister, though, and I know how dirty they fight. "Derek doesn't date. Leave him alone, or I"ll take a cheese grater to your nuts." The guys and I all gasp at the visual.

"Now," Janie raises a red brow and looks me up and down. "Stop being an asshole and stop whatever the fuck you're doing to avoid going home. Yeah, I know all about it. Stop being a child. So you had a bad one-night stand, and now you're making it way more awkward than it needs to be. Now, go make nice with my best friend so the rest of us can stop plotting your demise."

I look from her to Fox, who shrugs. "Yeah, I would just listen to her." Janie beams and skips over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his bearded cheek.

"My man is so smart," she coos, and Atlas makes a gagging noise before I roll my eyes and continue to set up for my next appointment.

I wavegoodbye to Fox and Janie as I get into my Tesla and start it up. The clock reads twelve-thirty AM. I could hit the gym or try to find a hookup, but I really just want to go home. I'm beyond exhausted and could really use a full night of sleep. What are the chances I'll run into Sunday while rushing into my apartment in the middle of the night? She has a kid, so it's not like she'll be up late, right? Don't kids go to bed early or something?

Deciding on home, I pull out of Hel's parking lot and onto the street, mentally cursing as my thoughts drift to Sunday. Maybe Janie's right. I should try to move past the sex—if you can even call it that. And I don't want to. I mean, the sex part was the most humiliating moment of my life. But that date, and the days she spent at the shop on my table, where we just talked and joked. It had never been so easy to talk to someone before, and it hasn't since. I hadn't had to be any certain way with Sunday, and it was refreshing. I think that's the part that keeps putting distance between us. I haven't moved on from that date.

I haven't moved on from what that date could have been… had I not fucked it up.

I stiflea yawn before exiting the elevator and walking down the hall, nearly shrieking as I see Sunday sitting on the floor, her back against her door. Why does god hate me? I'm a relatively good person. I take care of the people I'm supposed to. I never hurt anyone or led them on. So why? Why is Sunday sitting here, in my direct path, when all I want to do is avoid her?

Deciding I have no choice but to nut up, I continue to walk down the hall, reaching for my key card.

"Hey sunshine," I mutter when I approach her. She looks up and gives me a dry chuckle.

"Hey, charming." She sounds tired and defeated. It stops me from brushing past her and going into my apartment.

"You know, your balcony probably has a better view than this." I joke while gesturing to my apartment door. "I mean, I do have a fine ass door, but still."

"Ha ha," she rolls her eyes while leaning her head back. "I'm not used to the keycard entry, and I left it in the apartment, along with my phone, so I can't even put in a service call."

"Is your kid at his dad's or something?" Her body stiffens, and I notice the icy glare before she blinks and looks away.

"No, he's in there. But he's twelve and a boy. I can't wake his ass up banging a pot over his head. Ain't no way he's hearing me out here knocking. It's fine, though; the office will open in a few more hours." A few more hours? How am I supposed to go inside and sleep knowing she's sitting on the floor? Sighing in defeat, I swipe my keycard to unlock my door.

"Come on, sunshine," I motion with my head. "You can sleep here." Sunday's eyes narrow as she cocks her head to one side.

"Yeah," her voice is full of distrust. "I'll stay here, thanks." I release a laugh of surprised annoyance.

"You're kidding,"

"Did you hear a ba-dum dum?"

"Sunday, why would you choose to sit out here over sleeping in my apartment?"

"Ba-dum dum." She motions with her hands like she's hit drums. I smack my forehead on the doorframe.

"You're fucking impossible. I'm trying to be nice. How am I supposed to go inside and go to sleep if I know you're sitting out here?"

"That sounds like a you problem, charming. I'm not walking into that apartment."

"It's not like I'm saying come inside for a fuck." I snap. Her stubbornness is starting to piss me off. I can't leave her out here. What if something happens?

"Been there, done th–"

"Stop." I hold my hand up while trying to tamp down my embarrassment and irritation. "I'm trying to be nice. Don't be an asshole. You don't want to come inside, fine. But the door is unlocked if you change your mind." She winces like she feels bad, but I don't give her a chance to say anything as I turn and walk inside. I close my door and let out a shaky breath. My anger and embarrassment fueling my anxiety. Fucking panic attacks.

"Hey, broski," I startle at my sister's voice.

"Indy?" I pant, grasping my chest. "What the fuck are you doing?" She stares at me from one of her yoga poses, raising a dark brow.

"Knitting a sweater, what does it look like?" Her face goes soft as her crystal blue eyes scan over me. "What's wrong? Panic attack?"

"I'm fine." I lie, pushing myself off the door and stalking toward my bedroom. "Leave the door unlocked; Sunday is sitting outside. I told her when she's done trying to piss me off, she can take the couch."

"Wow, what a way to woo her."

"I already tried woo-ing. The woman is un-woo-able."

Sighing,I look at the clock on my phone and groan. Three AM and still sleep eludes me. And Sunday is still outside on the floor. I know this because her bedroom and mine butt up against each other and I haven't heard a peep from her through the wall so far. Smacking my mattress, I haul myself up and storm out of my bedroom, down the hall, and to the front door, ripping it open. I glare out, ready to yell at her for being so stubborn, when I see her asleep. She's curled up in the fetal position, and I can hear the lightest snore.

My body deflates and I'm about to go inside and get her a blanket and pillow when I see a figure sitting in a chair at the end of the hall. It's one of the male tenants we share the floor with. He's just sitting there… watching her.

"Fucking pervert," I growl while crouching down and shaking Sunday's shoulder gently. "Come on Sunday; I can't leave you out here any longer."

"Ain't gonna wake up." The man calls from down the hall. "The girl was having some drug fit or something, shaking all over the place." My blood runs cold as I stare at him in shock.

"W-what?" Looking back down, I check her pulse. When I turn her face toward me, I see a blood trail coming from her mouth. She bit her tongue. I pound on her apartment door, hoping to wake her kid, before turning to my open door. "Indiana!" I bark out as loud as I can. It doesn't take long before my sleep-rumpled sister staggers out. She jolts awake when she sees me.

"What's wrong?" She asks, rushing over.

"I-I don't know. She bit her tongue and is unconscious. I can't get her kid to wake up—" Sunday's door opens, and I see her pre-teen son standing in the doorway, half asleep.

"What's going on?" He mutters before he sees his mom. "Mom!" I lift Sunday and carry her into their apartment.

"Bud, does Sunday have–"

"Epilepsy," he finishes while rushing to the kitchen. "She has epilepsy. I'll get her medicine."

"I'll call the paramedics," Indy says while I stare down at the woman. She has epilepsy, and I didn't know. And I left her out in the hallway alone, where she had no way for anyone to help her. Guilt sours my stomach as I kneel and run my hand over her face, brushing her long hair back. She winces and begins to stir, and I can't believe how much her slight movement relieves me. She cracks an eye open, her warm, honey-colored eye looking around in a daze.

"H-hey sunshine," I give her a small smile as she opens her other eye and groans.

"Fuck, you're here. That can only mean I had a seizure."

"Okay, ouch," I feign offense while grabbing her wrist and checking her pulse.

"What are you doing?" She snaps, trying to pull her arm back.

"I'm attempting to check your vitals, but you're making it kind of difficult."

"Yeah, because you ain't my doctor."

"Mom," Wade says calmly as he walks over to the couch. "Let him help,"

"Boy, you don't just let some strange man in our apartment in the middle of the night… Ow, fuck, my head." She winces, touching the top of her head.

"Let me look." She eyes me, and I release a frustrated growl. "I'm not asking," I warn, my voice low. Her eyes shudder slightly before she nods. I turn my phone's flashlight on while moving her hair around. She hisses as I find the source of her pain—a small gash. "You must've hit it on the frame while seizing," I mutter while listening to my sister's voice as she leads the paramedics into the room.

"Oh my god," Sunday groans. "You called the paramedics? Dammit, Ash."

"What was I supposed to do Sunday?" I snap, moving out of the medic's way so they can look her over. "Should I have left you out there on the floor, unconscious, while the neighbor at the other end sat there staring at you?" Her eyes widen in shock as the color drains from her face.

"I–"

"Ma'am," the medic interrupts her. "Do you know what day it is? How about your name? Do you know where–"

"Damn, slow down." I move toward Sunday, feeling a surge of protectiveness. These are all standard questions, but I know what he's doing. He's rushing to get this wrapped up because he wants to go and crash at the station. This is a typical call. She's not in life-threatening danger, and they just want to run through the list and get out. And while that's all fine and dandy anywhere else, they aren't doing it tonight, not with Sunday, and not while I'm standing here. "She hit her head during her episode. You need to check her scalp. I know that's cutting into your precious sleeping time, but you'll manage."

"Ash," Indy hisses, grabbing my arm. "Stop barking, or you'll start a fight with them."

"No, I'm making sure they do their job." I hiss back, wrenching my arm from her grasp before glaring back at the two men. "Check her head," I say through gritted teeth. "And slow the fuck down." The men go back to work, and my gaze finds Sunday's. The confusion in her eyes isn't lost on me. I'm confused as well. She's fine; she's coherent. The cut isn't bad; it won't require stitches. Everything is fine. Yet, my heart is hammering in my chest, I can't hear anything besides an annoying whine, and if I don't drive my fist into a wall, I may hit the asshole who's now dipping his stethoscope too far down Sunday's tank top.

Once the men finish up, Sunday refuses to go to the hospital, and Indy sees them out. Sunday's son, Wade, returns to his room, saying something about checking on Alice.

"Well," Sunday lets out a weak chuckle. "This was fun."

"Never a dull moment with you," I mutter, trying to turn on the humor that I feel is expected of me now. But I'm not feeling it.

"Charming," Sunday stands in front of me, staring up with her pretty eyes, her dark brows furrowing.

"Yeah?" I manage to whisper out. Having her this close to me is waking a part of me that I buried a long time ago—a part that needs to stay buried.

"Go to bed. You look tired." She states before walking around me. I blink before whipping around to look at her retreating figure. Don't stare at her ass. Do NOT stare at her ass.

"Wait, are you dismissing me?" I scoff while crossing my arms over my chest. "I gotta tell you, sunshine, seems kind of like a dick move." She stops and turns to face me, her eyes narrowing.

"You really wanna talk about dick moves, charming? Because I'll bet, I could tell you one that'll put my ‘dick move' to shame."

"Oh my god." I roughly rub my face with my hands in frustration. "I've apologized! What do you want from me?" Dropping to my knees, I look up at her, arms spread wide. "Sunday Sutton, I am nothing but a pathetic worm groveling at your feet. Please, sunshine, spare me from the weight of your shapely leg as it threatens to crush my existence into oblivion. I beg of you, show mercy on this lowly creature who"s unworthy of your attention."

Maybe I'm being a little over the top, but I can see how her soft lips tighten as she tries to fight a smile. "Sunshine, look at me. I"m on my knees, begging for your forgiveness. Is this what you want? Can"t you see the pain in my eyes? Hear the desperation in my voice? I"ve apologized a thousand times and I"ll do it again if it means you"ll forgive me. Mia sole, mi dispiace tanto, I am so fucking–"

"Would you shut up!" She hisses through her laughter. She doesn't want to find me funny, that's obvious. But she's having a hell of a time not snickering. "Really, charming? A worm? And you pulled out Italian?"

"I'm a desperate man, sunshine. You have no idea how far I"ll go when I feel it's necessary."

"Apparently," she considers me for a moment. Her eyes traveling over my form and it's only now I remember, I'm shirtless. Fuck, does she see something wrong? I mean, I haven't been working out as much as I usually do, but I'm still–

"Alright, Ash," her sigh brings me out of the dark thoughts trying to pull me under. Her small hand reaches out between us, and I take it as she helps me stand. She doesn't release my hand immediately, and I decide I'm fine with her keeping it. "I'm a tired woman, and I've got too much on my plate to continue to hold this grudge. I forgive you, and I am sorry, too."

She releases my hand, and I stare at her in bewilderment. "You're sorry? Why are you sorry?"

"Because I was a bitch to you. I shouldn't have made fun of your taste, and I shouldn't have said what I did about you not looking the part of a paramedic. Honestly, I would've rather had you as a paramedic over those two." She mutters, and I want to feel anger or possessiveness over her, but there is a far greater emotion trumping those, and I can't name it. I stare at her, feeling like a computer shorting out. I've never been apologized to. I've never had a woman say they'd rather me than someone else in any regard.

I swallow or attempt to as my mouth has gone dry. "Really?"

She gives me a casual nod while going to the fridge and pulling out two bottles of water. She hands me one before cracking hers open and taking a long drink. "Yeah, they were assholes. And as much as it kills the strong-willed, I don't need no man persona I've built over the years; I'm glad you were here because those guys would've continued being dicks, and Wade would've gone at them, and then they would've been dicks to him." Her eyes shift away as her jaw tenses. I know that look. The look of a protective mother, trying to take care of it all on her own. I'm all too familiar, having seen it on my sweet mother's face one too many times.

"Had they tried," I take a breath, trying to hold my anger back over the thought of someone being hurtful to Wade. I know next to nothing about him except for his unwavering protectiveness over his mother. But that tells me all I need to know about him. "I would've beat their faces in." Some emotion flickers across Sunday's face. I'm not sure what it is. It leaves so quickly, but in that half a second, it's almost like I watched a wall crumble down that she had up.

"Thank you." Her voice is strong as she pulls her shoulders back, and just like that, the wall is back up. "For everything tonight. I really appreciate it. Now, go home, go to bed."

I give her a small smile and a nod. "Alright, text me if you need anything unless you already got rid of my number." I half-joke while walking toward the door.

"I never got rid of your number," she admits as I turn the knob. I look back over my shoulder at her, my heart rate picking up pace.

"From the note at the studio?" I ask softly, shocked she still has it. I would've thought she tore that up the second she found it.

I can see the slight pink in her cheeks, and she shifts uncomfortably. Shaking her head, she stares at me cautiously. "From when you gave it to me at Hel's." My hand involuntarily flexes on the doorknob as I stare at her in shock, and before I can stop myself, I admit to things that definitely go against my rules.

"I still have yours, too." I see a small smile pull at the corner of her mouth, and I know I need to get out of here—right now. "Have a good night, sunshine." I say, heading out the door.

"Night, charming."