Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Oliver

“No, Ashes, you don’t understand,” I practically shouted as I tugged at my hair. “What the hell was I thinking, agreeing to this.”

Ashes sat hunched over their workbench, meticulously bending a wire with a pair of pliers into a complex Celtic knot. In middle school, Ashes had adopted the Goth aesthetic and never let it go. Even now, at the age of twenty-two, they still dressed in all black with spikes and chains for decoration and several tattoos along their arms. Their hair was dyed a black so dark it looked blue and hung in a messy disarray that ended just past their chin.

I remembered the first time I helped Ashes dye their hair. We’d made a mess with the cheap box dye and gotten in so much trouble. After years of practice, they’d gotten much better at coloring their hair. So much so, that even I often forgot their hair wasn’t naturally that color.

At first glance, many people mistook my friend for some sort of satanic cultist who tortured animals in their backyard. Most would never know that Ashes was actually one of the nicest souls I’d ever met, and the only thing they ever tortured was their soldering iron when they obsessed over a new jewelry project.

Even now, they were barely listening to me, too focused on their latest creation. However, I’d already repeated myself so many times that they knew just how to respond, even if they weren’t paying attention.

“You agreed to the date ‘cause the guy was hot, and Rowan would love the opportunity to get out of the house and do something fun.”

“Yeah, I know.” With a huff, I threw myself down on the ratty couch in the far corner of the workshop. “And that’s all still true, but what am I doing? I haven’t been on a date in...”

“High school senior year,” Ashes reminded me without looking up from their work. “Jaxson Miller.”

“Oh, God. Right.” I pressed a pillow over my face, hoping it would smother me. “That was a nightmare.”

Ashes snorted and their pliers slipped off the wire they were working with. Putting everything down, they finally looked up at me. A jeweler’s loupe sat on the bridge of their nose, a tool they often used when working with particularly intricate pieces, and it made one of their eyes look comically bigger than the other.

“Nightmare? That’s an understatement. The guy went out with you on a dare, like the cliché villain in a teen movie. His friends were secretly following behind and recording you.”

The pillow hit the floor with a swirl of dust when I threw it at Ashes. “Yes, I know. Thank you for reminding me why I should never trust people. Especially not with my brother. Remember that other guy I dated for, like, a week. What was his name?”

“Robert something-or-other.”

“Right. Forgot. I tried to block every memory of him from my mind after he only pretended to be nice to my brother as a way to get me to sleep with him. Ugh. Ableist bastard.”

The couch bounced when Ashes sat next to me, carefully storing the jeweler’s loupe in their pocket so I could clearly see both their eyes. “But that was all High School shit. It happened years ago. This guy isn’t some stupid teen. He’s probably a lot more mature than any of them were. How old is he anyway?”

“I don’t even know that much about him. Literally, all I know is his first name.” I fished my phone out of my pocket and shoved it at my friend. “Here. I managed to snap a pic when he wasn’t looking. What’d you think?”

Ashes took the phone, studying it this way and that, before a grin spread over their face. “This guy’s got some real big dick energy going on.”

I slapped their shoulder, accidentally nicking my knuckles on one of the studs on their collar. “Ashes. Stop being a thirsty bitch and help me.”

“Fine, fine,” they agreed, though they continued to chuckle to themselves. “Well, judging by the way his hair gets a little lighter on the sides, I think there might be some gray hidden in that lush darkness. He’s probably a little older than he seems. I’m guessing late thirties.”

An age gap hadn’t even crossed my mind. It hadn’t mattered when there were so many other gaps between us, but now it seemed like a pressing matter.

I clutched my phone to my chest when Ashes handed it back, mindful of the cracked screen. “Is that too much? I’m only twenty-two. No wonder he seemed so much more self-assured than the other guys I’ve gone out with. He’s probably got plenty of experience. I’ve never even dated someone more than a few weeks. What could I offer that would interest him?”

Ashes grabbed my chin and forced me to look at them. “Hey. You’re spiraling. Focus.”

For a moment, I swore I could feel the heat of fire on my skin, but I knew it was only an illusion brought on by my heightened emotions. I sucked in a few deep breaths, slowly counting them out in my head, and felt my pulse calm down.

A cool breeze from Ashes’ air conditioning drifted over my skin.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. But, seriously, you shouldn’t worry so much. I doubt this guy cares about the age gap. You look your age, so I’m sure he already realizes that you’re younger. And something about you must interest him, or else he wouldn’t have asked you out.”

“Yeah,” I said, though I still wasn’t reassured. Ashes seemed to sense that I had more to say and waited for me to continue. “There was one more thing.”

“There always is. What is it?”

“Well…” I tipped my head back and forth, wondering how to explain what I’d seen. “There was this woman who he talked to at the coffee shop.”

Ashes scowled, and for a moment the scary Satanist that they were so often accused of being almost seemed plausible. “You mean he was chatting someone else up right after asking you out?”

“Not like that.” I thought back to the woman who’d stormed into the shop and just sat at D’Angelo’s table without so much as a hello. “It wasn’t a... how do I put this... a friendly conversation. They obviously knew each other, but the tension between them wasn’t the good kind. I don’t know. Something about it just rubbed me the wrong way.”

I tried to explain the interaction I’d witnessed with as much detail as possible, but since I hadn’t heard what they were talking about, there wasn’t much I could say with certainty.

Ashes thought about it for a moment. “Maybe he’s married. I’d be pissed, too, if I found my husband running around picking up younger men.”

“Oh, God,” I groaned and hung my head in my hands. “Don’t put that possibility in my mind. There are enough obstacles between D’Angelo and I already.”

While Ashes’ suggestion was possible, I doubted it was true. D’Angelo and the woman weren’t strangers, but they weren’t particularly familiar, either.

No, it must be something else, but I had no idea what.

An alarm on my phone beeped. I needed to leave soon so I could take over Rowan’s care from the nurse. My shift at the coffee shop had ended early enough that I could spend a few hours hanging out with my friend. There was no telling when I’d be able to spend time with Ashes again, and now I’d wasted all our time together rambling.

I opened my mouth, ready to apologize for wasting Ashes time, but they predicted what I was about to do and cut me off.

“Don’t. I won’t accept an apology. Not for this. Talking about problems is exactly what friends are for. Now, you want my advice? Go on the date. See what this guy is about. If he turns out to be a scumbag, then we’ll binge on ice cream and bitch about him afterward. But, who knows. Maybe you’ll get lucky.”

Eyes hidden behind pink colored contacts regarded me up and down for a moment.

“Honestly, getting dicked down would probably do you some good.”

Ashes cackled as I slapped their shoulder several times.

“You are horrible. I don’t know why I’m friends with you.”

Despite my words, we both knew I didn’t mean it. There was no better friend I could possibly have, and I was grateful everyday. If my date with D’Angelo didn’t work out, I wouldn’t be alone.

But, Ashes was right. Maybe it would work out. I wouldn’t know until I tried.

What was the worst that could happen?