“A Marvel fan? Carson, you have so much in common with Bliss. First pepperoni pizza and now Endgame. It’s like you two were made for each other.”
Carson stops cleaning and turns to look at me. He studies me for a moment, and my entire body heats. I try not to blush as I turn and follow Ashton into the living room.
A large sectional takes up most of the space, and on the opposite wall hangs an even bigger television. It’s the same one I have in my bedroom back home. The guys must have splurged.
“Carson, you almost done in there?” Ashton calls out, picking up the remote and turning the TV on.
A loud announcer from MSNBC comes on, talking about stock prices and a bunch of other things that I would never watch. It’s curious that it’s on in the house of two lifeguards.
The smell of popcorn hits my nose, and I hear glasses clinking in the kitchen. Moments later, Carson comes out, carrying a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of soda. He sets the three glasses down and takes a seat to my right. Far enough away to be comfortable, but not far enough to be rude. Ashton makes no such decision and leans his body into mine.
I’m not taken aback one bit; in fact, it’s nice to feel someone next to you in a non-sexual way. I haven’t had a comfort like this since Tilly died.
“Before we start, I don’t want any spoilers. I haven’t seen this movie, and I don’t want the two of you to ruin it for me.”
Ashton looks so serious that I can’t help but laugh. I didn’t think he was capable of being this serious.
“Whatever. Stop stalling and put on the movie,” Carson says, getting more comfortable on the couch by propping a pillow next to me and laying down.
My heart jumps a bit at this change in his seating. His black hair is twisted every which way. It takes everything in me not to run my fingers through his hair.
The opening credits begin, and I snuggle closer to Ashton. I’ve sobered up and am ready to enjoy the moment. Even if tomorrow is going to be a day of reckoning, I’m using this time to lose myself.
I WAKE up when the closing credits roll across the screen. Ashton is snoring softly beside me, but Carson is wide awake and watching me.
“What?” I ask, my gaze roaming over his face for any tells.
“You snore.” His voice is so matter-of-fact that I chuckle, jostling Ashton a bit, but he merely mumbles and turns over on the couch.
Pushing myself to a sitting position, I come nose to nose with Carson. His aftershave fills my senses, and a little shiver of pleasure goes through me.
“I’m sorry if I woke you.” I clear my throat, pulling up the shoulder of my rumpled sweater.
“You didn’t,” he replies, angling his body toward mine, his arms flexing with the movement.
Thoughts flood me, and they aren’t the school-girl kind. If Carson wasn’t such a jerk, I would take things to the next level—gladly.
“You’ve got beautiful eyes,” he whispers as he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. The gesture is so gentle, so completely unlike him.
I smirk. “Did you just compliment me?”
I can’t help the heat that rushes over me. The glow from the television outlines his face, making him even more attractive than the first time I met him.
Pulling my knees up around me, I shift and turn my entire body toward him. All my sleepiness gone. Anticipation fills me, and I’m eager to see what’s next.
He doesn’t answer, but places his hand on the side of my face, drawing me into him. My body responds, heat pooling in my core. We’re so close now that there is nothing else I can do except to place my lips on his.
So, I do.
The sparks ignite immediately, and a moan reverberates from the back of my throat. This eggs him on, and before I know what’s happening, I’m straddling him. His hands burn my body with every touch.
I feel alive for the first time in months.
My hands roam all over his hard, rippled chest, but when they get to his neck, he pulls away, a shocked expression on his face.
“We can’t, Bliss.”
The intense insanity of the moment falls away.
“Are you kidding me?” I ask, but then I finally understand it. I’m not good enough for him.
“Ashton is right next to us.”
“We’re friends, nothing more. I’m sure he told you that?”
“He did, but this . . . this could never work.”
Embarrassment comes over me as he just solidifies what I thought. No one could ever truly want the damaged, broken girl. The girl who drinks too much and depends on her parents to survive. The girl with the gaping hole in her chest.
“I’ve got to go.” I move away from him, straightening my clothes. “Tell Ashton I’ll call him later.”
He nods, his face tinged with sadness, but he makes no move to stop me.
I glance over my shoulder one more time, to see the disgust there and memorize it. It’ll serve as a reminder that I will always be the disgraceful party girl. The one no one wants.
Tears burn the back of my eyes, and I pull my gaze from his before they fall. I won’t let him see how badly he’s cut me.
CHAPTER SEVEN
BLISS
DRESSES. Rows and rows of dresses line the store that Royce’s bride, Cassy, has brought me to. His fiancée is a beautiful woman, nice enough, and makes Royce happy. It’s enough for me.
“This is so exciting! I can’t wait to see everyone in their dresses. I hope you’ll love it as much as I do,” Cassy says, grabbing my hand and leading me into the back of the store like she didn’t witness the fight I had with my parents the night before. It’s just as
