Down to Ash (#Dirtysexygeeks Book 2) Read Free Page B

stare impotently at her before the rest of his frustration spilled out. “Sit down before you kill yourself.”
    “My depth perception might be off. I'm going to do more than regret those drinks, but I'm only tipsy.”
    “Go sit down,” he grated out.
    Although she sighed, she didn't argue as she passed him. That and only that told him how much she’d had to drink. She sprawled into a kitchen chair and then grinned at him.
    Air whooshed out of his lungs. Could she not be...adorable? Shaking his head, he checked her fridge. The shelves were lined with decorative plastic wrap for easy cleanup. Also pink and checkered. He needed to leave and quick.
    But he couldn’t. He spotted pork chops thawing on the bottom shelf. That he could handle. “Sides?”
    “Cabinet.” She frowned then rubbed at her temples. “Why I almost TKO'd myself. I stock up on microwavable stuff. I keep lots of them in there because I'm a single lady,” she said the last part in a singsong tone.
    Ash, singing. No fucking way she was just tipsy, yet she'd called Porter the lightweight.
    “How much did you drink?” he asked again, amusement edging in on his disgruntlement.
    “No. No . I found the bar in the restaurant after being stood up.” As though that was an unshakable defense.
    “And then what?”
    Her eyes widened with faux innocence, a smile tugging at her mouth again. “I drank it.”
    Victor almost choked on a laugh. “I see.”
    How did she always manage to draw him in even when he was being a dick?
    He chose a garlic and butter rice that he could pop into the microwave with minimal fuss. She had about twenty of them. And she would probably need to eat all twenty of them to level out the alcohol in her system.
    Right in his line of sight sat a bottle of whiskey. A fifteen-minute favor had turned into an hour, at least. An hour alone with her. They'd never been unchaperoned for that long before.
    He'd go over to Porter's and she'd be there. They'd both be aware Porter was on his way. Or they'd be sitting alone in Grady's living room, and would find things to talk or argue about. When they were younger, there had been school, parents...a thousand things that had stood in their way of being alone .
    Porter would assume Victor had dropped Ash off and had gone home.
    No one would ever know what I could do with her tonight.
    That thought left him a little breathless.
    He picked up the whiskey bottle in the cabinet, because the Post-it note covering the label told him to. “Break seal in case it's the end of the world.”
    The situation wasn't the end of the world, but sure as shit felt like it. Welcome to the Apocalypse .
    He took a long pull straight from the bottle, and then put it back.
    She laughed. “So dour, always, is that why you need a drink?” Ash mused. “Toss me a water while you're digging around in my refrigerator.”
    He did, still buzzing at her laugh. It was so damn pure.
    Get it together .
    He focused on what he should be doing and reached into another cabinet for seasoning. She chugged half the bottle, and then just sat back, sipping the water as he heated the oven and prepped the meat.
    “Why?” she asked after a while.
    “Why, what?” he asked.
    She spread her hands in a wide arch. “Why do all this if you don't even like me?”
    It was easier to let her think he didn't. So much easier to make her think her light—the flame of her—was distasteful to him. He could have, should have, answered in his usual dickish way, but her expression had turned thoughtful and soft.
    He shrugged and turned the fire down on the stove. “You wrote me when I was deployed. That meant something to me. The least I can do is feed you or take care of you when Porter can't.”
    “That was eons ago.” Her voice pierced through him.
    When he’d been in Iraq, he hadn’t marked time in hours, but in friends he lost and bombs he disassembled that could have ended...him. Most people could count on their hands the number of times