Eighteen

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Ashton's POV

Ruth takes her sweet time as she neatly folds her clothes and places them in the plastic basket. She even organizes the placement of each different piece of clothing within the baset to keep her shirts, socks, pants, and whatever the hell else she has separated from one another.

The last load she washed and dried finished almost half an hour ago, but she insists on folding everything here even though she can do it at her apartment. I'm not complaining though. It may be close to midnight and I'm tired as fuck and smell like chlorine, but staying here with her is worth it.

I don't know if it was sharing some history about each other or our little swim in the pool but I feel somewhat closer to Ruth. Maybe the same goes for her seeing that she said I'm doing well with her which made me as excited as a kid on a sugar rush.

I may come off as an ass sometimes because of my constant use of sarcasm but I like to think that I toning it down a little. Ruth doesn't seem to mind some aspects of it as long as I don't go overboard. I've noticed that she gives me a warning glare when I do go too far and when she is okay with it, she rolls her eyes with an amused smile.

Maybe I'm finally getting on her good side. Maybe I've finally proving her wrong.

I continue to watch Ruth and her eyebrows furrow as she examines the t-shirt she just finished folding. She shakes her head slightly and refolds it to her liking.

I grab a folded pair of socks from my hamper and toss it at her, hitting her head. "Hurry up," I whine.

She snaps her head in my direction with narrowed eyes and grabs the sock that bounced from her head to the table and practically pitches it like a baseball at full force towards me. The sad part is that she completely misses and it flies over my head even though she's no more than 3 feet away from me.

"Wow," I say, dragging out the word. "I've seen some bad aim before but this takes the cake," I tease, picking up the folded socks that landed on the floor behind me.

"Shut up," Ruth mumbles and resumes folding her seemingly never-ending pile of clothes. "You don't have to stay here. You're already finished with your laundry so you can go home."

"But I don't want to go home," I say, causing Ruth to stops mid-fold and stare at me perplexed. "I-I mean it's really late and I don't want you to walk home by yourself," I stammer, hoping that my excuse covers up my not-so-subtle hint that I just want to stay here with her for as long as I can; however, it's not completely false because there are some weirdos that lurk around these apartments at night.

Her eyes stay fixated on mine for a few more seconds, almost as if she's searching for any hint of lying. I don't know why she continues to think that I am going to lie to her. I haven't lied to her once since I met her; instead, I've been overly blunt which is how I am with anyone who I'm close with, or in this case, trying to get close to.

Ruth breaks her gaze and continues to fold her clothes. "I'm sure I'll be fine," she says confidently.

I bend forward uncomfortably and place my elbows on the low table and rest my chin over my loosely clasped hands. "I wouldn't be so sure about that," I sing.

"And why not?"

"Because there is this crazy old lady who hides in the bushes around the apartments at night."

"How does that make her crazy?"

"I forgot to add that she hides in the bushes completely naked."

Ruth's nose crinkles. "Why is she naked?"

"Like I said, she's crazy."

"And why haven't I heard of this crazy naked lady before?"

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