Nothing To Prove

10 That's Why You're Single

Ashton

I couldn't fucking stop flirting with Sam. Ever since she'd moved in. Every time I saw her. I just wanted her. And she'd be doing the most mundane things, like—

Walking into the living room.

Standing in the kitchen and cooking.

Staring. At anything.

I was around half-naked women half of the week. Tits out, asses out. Grinding on each other. Trying to grind on me. But all I wanted to do was punch them. That's how badly I wanted Sam.

And I couldn't find a good reason not to act on it. Why not? Because we lived together? Big deal. We'd find her a different apartment if worse came to worst. What was I supposed to do? Sit on my ass until someone else snatched her?

I don't fucking think so.

The next Sunday morning, on God's special day to rest, the woman I couldn't stop fantasizing about dared to wake me up. At 8 AM. She knocked and started to sing.

"Ashtonnn! Do you want to have some breakfaaast? Come on, let's go out and eeeat. I'm dragging you around all day. You're stuck with me. There is no other waaay!"

Slowly, I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

"Hellooo. We have a full day of a photoshoot ahead of us. Gotta make content! Hashtag live free." She giggled at her own nonsense. "Can I come in?"

Did I have a choice? "Sure."

I moved the sheets around to hide my morning boner as she cracked the door open. She peaked her head through. A shy smile lifted the apples of her cheeks. Her eyes sparkled like a goddamn cartoon character. She was glowing.

"Get over here." I propped on my elbows for a better look. "Let me see what you're wearing."

"No, don't be dumb."

"Let me see."

She scoffed, hiding behind her hair, and slowly stepped in. A little yellow sundress. Kill me. Just bash my head against a wall, run me over with a truck, then throw my corpse off a bridge.

"I look stupid, huh?" She grimaced, reaching for the white bow behind her hair. "I should take⁠—"

"Leave it." Oops, too harsh. "Leave it, it's cute."

She pouted with doubtful eyes. "Is it? I don't know⁠—"

"I know. You look beautiful. Leave it."

You know what. Going out was a great idea. We could hang out. Get to know each⁠—

"Cara and Luka are coming too," she cut off my thoughts.

"Ah, fuck. Why?"

So what if he was my brother. America was bad for him. He'd be much happier in Russia.

"⁠So they can take pictures of us?" Sam laughed like it was obvious. "You think those pictures online are just two minute selfies? No, sir. Get ready to hold each pose for ten to fifteen minutes."

"That's nothing. I can go all night long." I made an exaggerated snarling face. "Grrr."

"God..." She rolled her eyes. As if her face wasn't tomato red. As if her eyes didn't get that naughty glint.

I knew there was more to her than that sweet innocent act. It was just a matter of time and trust until I unleashed it.

"Listen, if you need to squeeze your morning pickle or sausage or eggplant, whatever God has blessed you with, go ahead," she said. "But when the juice is out, please clean up and come out. Goodbye."