Painting Flowers // Ashton Irwin [au]

Thirty-three

Ashton's POV

I check my phone every thirty seconds, hoping for a reply from Emmie but unfortunately, I'm met with nothing but a blank screen. I hope she's having fun right now, or at least getting along with Natalie. I don't expect a new friendship to develop between them, but I don't want to come back to the hotel to find that they got into a catfight. Although that would be a funny story to hear.

"Did you see that?" Calum asks, tapping my arm with the beer bottle in his hand.

I lift my gaze away from the glowing screen to find him slack-jawed, watching the football game on the flat screen TV. "See what?"

He turns to me and then looks down to my phone. "Dude," he starts, "You're supposed to be having fun, not staring at your phone all night. It's not like you won't see her later tonight."

He has a point. I've been using Emmie's text messages as a distraction from the bachelor party that I should be partaking in. It isn't because I'm not enjoying myself; I am. It's hard not to especially here in Jack's man cave. The dim lighting, muted cobalt blue walls and the dark-stained wood flooring gives the illusion that we're in an actual bar and not an ordinary suburban house. I wouldn't mind a man cave like this for myself one day.

Cheers from football fans observing the game blare from the TV. The clashing of billiard balls is barely drowned out as Michael and Nathan play at the pool table, while Nathan's friend, Cyrus, watches from the side. While Luke and Jack are scrounging through the personal bar for drinks, Calum and I (mostly Calum) have been sitting here watching the game.

The entire scene reminds me of the old days. Nathan and I met in our Economics class during my first semester at college. We weren't as close as I am with the other guys, but he was still a friend. He would join us when we would go to bars practically every other weekend, and we'd play a few games of pool. I have yet to win a game against him. Natalie and her friend, Colleen, would join us every so often and I would teach Natalie how to play pool. She played against Nathan once and I could tell by his poor shots that he let her win. Now I understand why he did.

It hasn't been as awkward as I had anticipated, but that's mainly because Nathan and I haven't conversed much since we've been here. He and I have practically stayed on opposite sides of the room for the sake of avoiding any means of confrontation. I'm not particularly proud of my cowardice, but I'd rather not start something that needs to be laid to rest.

"Give me your phone," Calum says, snatching the device from my hand and shoving it into his pocket. He opens his mouth to speak, but he's cut off by the ringing of his phone. He quickly answers the call without greeting the person on the line. He waits and listens until the other person is finished talking before he gives a curt "No" and hangs up. He turns to me. "No more phone for tonight."

"That seems a little unfair," I say. "Give me yours to hold, then."

"Fine by me," he says, dropping the device in my lap, which nearly hits a sensitive area. "I shouldn't need it anymore now that I told Julia that she can't withdrawal any more money to gamble with."

"Is that who called you?"

"She's going to be working overtime starting next week to make up for the days she took off for this trip. I don't want her to blow off all her money and have to work even more."

As sincere as I know he's being, I know him well enough to know that he's guilty of something. "You took her wallet, didn't you?"

He brings the beer bottle in his hand to his mouth in attempt to conceal the growing smile on his face. "I didn't take her wallet. Just her debit and credit cards. I'm doing her a favor. You have no idea how terrible she is when it comes to money and budgeting."