Catch or Fall

Chapter Fourteen

Ashton

The shitstorm has now become a thunder. Why the fuck did I say that? And why the fuck did I do that? I kissed her, and even after all the guilt I'm feeling, I still want to pull her back to the stock room and kiss her even more.

I said I'm going to fix this, but now I'm being pulled under by my own quicksand.

Fuck, I am attracted to her. There's no other way to put it. I'm into her and I can't pretend that I don't want her. I want her in my bed now, and maybe even tomorrow, or the next day.

But that is not how she should be treated. She's nice and like any other woman, she deserves respect. What I did earlier is nothing close to respect.

It's frustrating how I let lust get the better of me. It's been two months since I last had sex, and before that, it's just Samantha. Though I am not deeply into her, I tried to be faithful and did not hook up with anyone when we were still together. When we broke up two months ago, I started hooking up again. I had three one-night stands and after that, things went downhill...

Until I thought of messing with Harper just for the sake of my inheritance and to fuck Jackson Price off.

Fuck you, Ashton. You're no better than your dad for what you did. But I don't plan to play Harper anymore, especially after I got to know her better. And after that one hell of a kiss.

I need to pull things together and apologize. I send Harper a text.

Me: Sorry for what happened in the stock room. That was entirely my fault.

And another text...

Me: It will make me feel better if you go and kick me on the nuts.

And another...

Me: I get if you don't want to talk to me, but I want to fix this. I'm sorry.

I'm about to hide my phone inside my bag when a message from Alex flashes on the screen.

Him: How's your chick holding up? Tell her not to go to Twitter. Lots of nasty comments out there.

To confirm, I log in on Twitter and check Easton Unknown's account. The comments range from "SLUT" to "WHORE" to "SHE'S NOTHING COMPARED TO SAMANTHA SEMBLAT." Why do people in the internet spend so much time pitting women against each other? And how can these people—even women—easily call someone a slut? The digital age has turned us into the worst version of ourselves.

I log out of Twitter because reading the comments just makes me angrier.

"What's up?" Chris asks.

Ryle, who is standing behind Chris, gives me a playful shove. "You okay?"

"Tell me how to set up Easton Unknown on fire and get away with it."

"I know you're pissed. Imagine having people gossip about your one-night stand. Sometimes I wonder if these people even have a life," Chris comments.

"It's not a one-night stand thing. We didn't have sex." I don't know, but I feel the urge to correct them. I don't want them to believe the wrong thing for Harper's sake.

Chris and Ryle look at me as if I said something stupid. Well, that's not a surprise. They know me well enough to know that I don't do such thing. I sleep AND have sex with a chick. There's no either/or. I don't usually have hookups, but when I get it on with a chick, I go all the way. This is something odd to them.