The Boiling Point | ✔️

24 | bad guy

ASHTON

"I still can't believe I missed this! Never drinking again, I swear!"

Ryan has been watching the video of Summer and Charlie making out on a loop for a solid five minutes at this point. Bitching and moaning, drooling and lusting.

"Fuck me. Can you imagine being in a threesome with those two? Seriously guys, imagine it. Charlie's ass and Summer's tits? Jesus Christ. Heaven."

It physically pains me not to rip open my locker door. Listening to him talk is like listening to a rock going through a goddamn meat grinder. I feel Nick's quiet watch on me, checking if I'm going to snap.

Diego bellows a laugh as he shrugs off his chef jacket. Ryan stays hunched over on the bench, eyes nailed to his phone. "What?"

"Nothing. Just funny you think you could carry a threesome when you can hardly handle a video." He ruffles Ryan's blonde hair. "They'd get naked and you'd bust your nut in five seconds, kiddo."

Ryan pushes him away, a rant in the works, and I take my phone out to mindlessly stall until they leave the locker room. I can't change out of my uniform and get the hell out of here until they do.

"You're weirdly quiet about all this." Ryan narrows in on me.

"Charlie's practically his ex, and you haven't shut up about her since you saw that video." Diego swings his bag over his shoulder. "You expect him to jump in with dirty details? Send you her nudes?"

"Not my ex. Watch that video to your heart's content." I clap Ryan on the shoulder and grin. "It's the closest you'll ever get to the real deal, bud. Enjoy it."

He grimaces and finally stands, silencing Diego's amusement with a headlock as they leave.

My grin slides off as quickly as I slapped it on. I shove my phone away and unbutton my jacket.

"He'll get over it," Nick says. "Only so many times he can watch it until the effect wears off."

"Not gonna hold my breath," I mutter.

He zips his backpack closed. "She speak to you at all?"

I shake my head, tugging my shirt from the locker, thinking about the way Summer's mouth twisted when she saw me. Like the act of having to look at me left bile on her tongue.

He tilts forward, trying to catch my eye. "It won't always be like this. Your dad will eventually back off, and when he does you can talk to Summer and—"

"Nick." I breathe a low warning. He draws back.

My dad loosening his grip is a fantasy. Wishful thinking mired in hope. And hope is nothing but a double-edged sword. 

I turn to Nick, and he's looking at the bruises on my ribs with so much resentment I can see it orbing around him in red pulses.

"Ashton! You in here?" Charlie's voice echoes through the locker room, quick footsteps following.

I slip on my shirt before she can see the damage.

"Good." She huffs when she rounds the corner, flipping aside a raven tendril. "We need to talk."

No order of words in the English language can induce stress quite like those four.

Nick reads her tone and bails. I carry on changing as she marches over. It was a given that she'd corner me sooner or later, but I hoped it would be later. Or never. Never would've been good.

"I know you slept with Summer," she states.

I drop my chef pants and step into my jeans, watching her glacial eyes linger on my boxers.