the hating game ; lrh

nineteen

"WHAT WAS THAT?" ASKS Ashton as we begin to descend the stairs, his hand still hovering over my back.

"Nothing," I insist, trying to avoid eye contact with my kind-of boyfriend as we continue downstairs.

"It didn't look like nothing," Ashton says, and by the tone of his voice I can tell he's becoming increasingly frustrated with my involvement with Luke.

"Well, nothing happened," I snap back, annoyed that he is being so incredibly pushy.

Before I can move any further, however, Ashton grips my wrist and stops me in my tracks on the steps. I look down at my wrist, where Ashton has an iron grip, and then up at the boy before me in surprise. I hadn't seen behaviour like this since the night of the party.

"You were in your room with the door closed, and when I came in you looked like a deer caught in headlights," Ashton's voice is low and menacing — not the cheery tone I had become accustomed to. "You're telling me that's not suspicious?"

"I don't know what you want me to tell you," I feign innocence. I attempt to pull my wrist from his grip, but Ashton holds on tightly.

"I want the truth," he insists, hazel eyes burning and jaw clenched.

I look up into his eyes for a moment, contemplating my options. It was very clear that Ashton knows something, or has simply fit the puzzle pieces together. I wouldn't be able to keep him at bay for long. Besides, I know that he won't go around telling everyone what's happened — he valued his pride far too much for that.

I let out a long sigh. "I don't want this to be a big deal," I tell him, warning him with my eyes not to make a scene. He nods slowly in agreement and finally releases my wrist. "Luke kissed me."

"What!?" Ashton almost screams his response, and I quickly shush him.

"Don't!" I glance back down the stairs to ensure my brother hasn't overhead, and when I'm sure the coast is clear I turn back to Ashton. "Please. It's not a big deal."

Ashton's jaw clenches harder as he glances back up the stairs. "I'm going to kick his ass," he growls.

"Ashton," I repeat, gripping his wrist before he can go anywhere. His hazel eyes flicker to where my hand is tightly restricting him, then to my pleading eyes. "You guys are performing tonight, you don't need any... bad blood."

Ashton scoffs lightly, "There's been bad blood between Luke and I since the party," he says what I'm already well aware of.

"I know," I let out a sigh, gnawing lightly at my lip. "Just... don't add fuel to the fire tonight, okay?"

Ashton pauses for a moment, silently contemplating what exactly to do about the situation, and I know in my heart this is the make-or-break moment of whether or not I can be with him. If Ashton walks back up those steps, I will know that he hasn't changed as I had hoped he would.

"Fine," he lets the word escape through a heavy sigh, eyes on the floor briefly before meeting mine. "But if he tries anything more—"

"He won't," I interrupt, though I'm not sure that what I'm saying is really true.

"I'm serious, Rory," Ashton's brows are raised as he speaks sternly, and suddenly I feel as though I am a child being scolded.

"So am I," I try my best to sound confident, though I'm not quite sure why I'm going to such an effort to protect Luke after all he's done.

"Okay," Ashton presses a kiss to my forehead. "Let's go set up, then."

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