Piece of Cake | Ashton Irwin [au]

Eleven

Ruth’s POV

“Hey Ruth, how about this one?” Ashton asks while lying on a large white sectional with his feet dangling off the arm rest and his arms sprawled out to test out the full comfort level of the couch just like he did with all the others that he has been pointing out.

“Ashton, I thought we agreed on the dark gray set with the ottoman?” I sit down on the brown suede sectional and grimace at the firm cushion.

We’ve been shopping in IKEA for furniture for two hours now and the only things we’ve been able to decide on is a round glass dining table and a toaster. Since we got here, Ashton has been testing out every couch for comfort every time we pass one. He hasn’t been very useful on this trip, but at least he did pick out a damn good toaster.

“Yeah, but this one reclines,” he says and pulls the lever that brings out the foot rest.

“You’re supposed to be helping me make a decision, not suggesting more pieces for me to check out.” I’m grateful that Ashton volunteered to come with me since Luke couldn’t because now I don’t have to carry anything heavy and he points out all the good appliances that I can’t afford and then shows me alternatives for a cheaper price. “Seriously, Ashton,” I groan and push myself up off the uncomfortable couch, “I need furniture. So get off your ass and help me out.”

“Fine,” he huffs and stands to his feet. “What else do you need?”

“Everything,” I mumble, “but don’t worry, the toaster is out of the way.” I lace my tone with sarcasm and shake the box with the toaster in his face.

“Can you even afford everything?” he asks incredulously.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and restrain myself from throwing this box at him. After spending this long with him I’m at my wits end. “Yes, I can afford it,” I say through gritted teeth.

He hums and pulls us over to the dining chairs in search for a set to match the table we picked out. “So how pissed off is Luke at you for hanging out with me today?” he asks and shows me a yellow upholstered chair with a white paint finish. Does he really not have a clue when it comes to interior decorating? His sense of taste is god awful.

I shake my head at his choice and he goes off to look for another. “Let’s just say I was lectured by him on the phone when he got home last night. It was the usual keep pepper spray in your purse at all times, get your gun license so you can legally carry a gun, and wear heels so that if you try to make a pass at me I can stab you with the heel.”

His eyes widen and I can only describe his expression as being extremely uncomfortable as he looks down to my feet to make sure that I’m not wearing heels. “Your brother is crazy, no offense.”

I chuckle. “None taken.” My brother is bat shit crazy, there’s no doubt about that. He means well though. With the guys that I’ve dated, none of them have treated me right and so now Luke tries (in his own way) to protect me from anyone who would take advantage of me.

“How old is Luke anyway?”

“He’s only a year younger than me, so 21,” I answer.

“Younger? I could’ve mistaken him for being older.”

“Because of his height?”

“Yeah, how did you know I was going to say that?”

“Because that’s always the reason why people assume he’s older.” Even a few members of my distant family mistake me for being the younger sibling and I’ve given up on trying to correct them after years of failed attempts.