Rose | Ashton Irwin

chapter twelve

Rose's POV

The next morning I woke up at ten after forgetting to set my alarm. From when I was sleeping I received multiple drunk pictures from Penny and Calum, one of the latter passed out in the backseat of an uber, drool dripping down his chin. I giggle to myself before checking my other messages. I have two from Alec who apologized for what happened at the party, asking if we could talk about it. I sigh, ignoring it for now and reading the message from my mom.

'You two were still asleep when I left for work so I put twenty dollars on the counter for lunch, love you." She sends to our group chat with a heart, my dad responding with a thumbs up. I smile at my goofy parents before making my way downstairs, finding the money she mentioned, placing it in my purse by the door.

I wasn't sure if I should talk to Alec, of course I couldn't say nothing, but I knew it was wrong for me to go on another date with him. I didn't really like him- sure he's charming and handsome- he's just not my type. I could never see myself being in a serious relationship with him, and I didn't think he was looking for one. I'm not sure why I even said yes.

Even though it ended in disaster, it was nice to be asked on another date no matter how sad it sounds. Our involvement with the church, plus my brother, seemed to repel boys. I sigh at how desperate I sound as I pull a box of cinnamon toast crunch out of the cabinet. I know that I need to talk to Russell more about what happened, but talking to him can be like talking to a brick wall at times.

I pour it into a bowl, along with milk, and take my seat at the bar as I scroll through instagram. Footsteps make their way down the stairs but instead of it being my brother, it's Ashton. His hair is in messy curls on his forehead and his shirt is absent, showing off his toned chest. I do my best to stay focused on my phone but can't help but watch as he reaches for a small bottle in cabinet as if he knows exactly where to go.

"Take a picture, it lasts longer." He mocks, his tone more sour than usual. I can see the irritation in his eyes when I don't respond, not fueling the fight. "What's wrong with you huh?" He snaps, swallowing a couple of aspirin after getting a glass of water.

"Nothing. I just woke up and can't deal with you this early." I mumble before shoving a bite of cereal into my mouth.

"Can't deal with me?" He repeated with a dropped jaw. I nod. "I'm the one that can barely ever handle your bitchy attitude."

"This is exactly what I mean! Just let me enjoy my breakfast and worry about your hangover." When I return my attention to my phone, ignoring him, I hear him let out an over exaggerated grunt.

After a couple moments of silence between the two of us, I feel someone slide onto the bar stool next to me. When I look up Ashton is taking a bite of plain toast. I scrunch my nose, "Plain?"

"What? You're the one eating cinnamon toast crunch." He wiggles his nose at the name out of disgust, turning back to his bread.

"Wow, what a sad life you live," I shake my head, "and for your information, cinnamon toast crunch is amazing."

And with that his attitude had flipped 180, just like usual, and he is chuckling at my words, "Sure whatever you say."

"How's your head feel?"

"Like shit." Contradicting his words he gives me a lopsided grin.

"Maybe you shouldn't drink so much all the time." I try to joke but the humor immediately leaves his eyes and he turns away. An awkward silence falls over us again after my failed attempt at keeping the mood light, having the opposite effect. It's so hard to predict how any conversation with him will go.