Stay | afi

three.

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She hesitated much longer than Ash expected before giving a nod so slight it was nearly imperceptible.

He asked again, just to be sure.

"Was that.. do you really wanna come in?"

She leveled him with a sly grin and he knew she wasn't going home, "If the offer's open.." She grabbed her phone from the center console where he'd placed it, "Let me just let my roommate know."

Her fingers flew over the screen but she never looked away from his eyes. She kept his gaze until the phone vibrated in response and he was nearly anxious to look away. Ash could feel a knot of irritation and heat twisting in his belly- irritation at what had felt like a challenge in her stare, and heat at the prospect of her actually coming inside.

Maybe she understood his intention, he couldn't be sure, but if she was game then he certainly was as well.

"Gotta make sure you get all the way inside, can't have anyone saying I don't take my duties seriously," the pretty bartender's grin went from sly to positively devilish when she looked back at him and unbuckled her seatbelt.

Ash got out of the car and stopped just short of doing a victory dance. She wasn't Calum but the boobs were a distinct advantage he'd never turn down. Either way, he wasn't going to be alone tonight and that was something to look forward to on its own.

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I texted Kate, who was thrilled that I was staying out regardless of the reason or who I was with. Despite my choice in ex-husband, she seemed to trust my judgement. Or maybe it was just that I hadn't been anywhere but work and the grocery store in the year since my divorce. We'd taken a day trip to LA once, when the kids were with their dad, but we just saw a movie and came home.

Maybe she just hoped I'd get laid.

And maybe that's what I hoped too. She told me not to worry about when I got home, but to check in at least once to ensure I wasn't murdered. I agreed, and got out of the car with a grin and a head full of naughty thoughts about the hazel eyes and dimpled smile in front of me.

He led the way, unlocking the door via a slick keypad instead of a key. The inside of the house was a little bit more like what I'd imagine his house would look like. Broody dark wood tones accented light colored walls. Scattered across the walls were album covers and a few paintings I didn't recognize. There was a couch, a bunch of books and a mountain of still-packed boxes. He really hadn't been here long, I surmised by the boxes marked with "kitchen" and "bathroom". I got a weird kick out of the idea that he'd inexplicably unpacked books and art before his kitchen and bathroom supplies that endeared him to me all the more. He pitched forward at the single step down into the living space, and in that moment I remembered that I'd brought him home because he drank copious amounts of whiskey and wasn't safe to drive.

I caught him before he actually fell, my hands steadying him at shoulders that didn't appear too broad but were corded with thick muscle and warm under my hands. He turned to face me, tucking his chin with a sheepish smile.

We stayed like that a moment too long before I noted that I was still holding onto his shoulders, my fingers dipping slightly as the muscles in his arms flexed when he shifted. He reached for me, hands settling on my waist, and lifted his face so he was looking down at me a bit more, "Thanks for the assist. D'you want a tour?"

"Sure," I replied easily, "if you think you can manage to stay upright to give one."

He rolled his eyes and made an elaborate show of model-strutting across the rest of the room, commanding my attention with his stride even if he didn't mean to.

He turned at the edge of a large island and realized I wasn't following.

"The tour is much more effective if you follow me, I don't bite," his teased before his voice dropped an octave to add, "Unless you ask nicely."

He winked before turning on his heel into the kitchen to flip the switch on a tea kettle on the counter. I wondered briefly if he was British. I followed then, walking just to the edge of the bar as something electric buzzed in my veins. Something that lived somewhere between anxiety and anticipation.

Just past the tea kettle, I saw it. I saw the jar of vegemite and didn't stop myself in time, "AUSTRALIAN."

"hm?" he turned, looking marginally surprised but mostly unphased.

"Your accent. It's Australian. You're Australian."

He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Soooo.. this is the kitchen. and that is the living room, and the front door." he pointed to the spaces we'd walked through. He took a few more steps toward the back of the house and this time I followed without prompting.

He showed me a dining room, a spectacular sunroom and backyard (also equipped with twinkle lights and fruit trees). Down a wide hallway lay several bedrooms- an office, a guest suite, and then.. his hand hesitated over the knob on a set of double doors at the end of the hall.

"And this is my room" he said, a hint of something I couldn't quite place creeping into his voice.

His eyes locked on mine, searching for something for just a moment before he twisted the knob.

"If we go in..."

I didn't let him finish, I just rushed forward and kissed him.