Nothing To Prove

3 Can't Help Myself With You

What a fancy place...

"Dude. Do you know where I live? My building is so ancient, the elevator has a manual door which won't even open." I looked at Ashton like it was all his fault. "I have baby cockroaches living in my drawers."

He made a yikes face. "Jesus..."

"I thought bartenders don't make a lot, how do you live here?"

"Well, what can I say? I'm full of surprises." He sighed like it was a full-time job to be that cool and pulled by a curbside, shutting off the engine.

"There has to be a—" I was about to say 'catch', but he got out, strode toward me, then opened my door. "Oh. Thank you."

My arms prickled with goosebumps from the humid cold. Or maybe nerves. Definitely nerves. Ashton placed his hand on my low back and ushered me down a paved road with apartments on each side. My heels hit the ground with obnoxious noise. Click, click. Click, click.

"Let's see if he's up, shall we?" Ashton stopped before a turquoise door ornamented with succulents and knocked like he was owed money. "Hey, Luka! Lukaaa! Hey, open the door!"

"Oh my God." I palmed my face. "You'll wake up the neighbors!"

It was too late. The windows left and right were lighting up thanks to his yelling.

"Hellooo! Wakey, wakey, Luky boy! I'm heeere! Ey!"

I expected someone around his height when the door opened, but he was actually just a little bit taller than me. He had dirty-blonde hair and soft facial features like young Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic. But instead of shaggy clothes, he was in blue pajama bottoms and a pink shirt.

"Ты что, спятил? Что тебе нужно так поздно?" He rubbed his sleepy eyes.

"English, idiot. Don't you see I'm with somebody? Good morning!" Ashton tipped his chin at me. "Okay, tell Sam what you think about my potatoes."

"Your potatoes?" His ears perked up. "Why? You making them right now?"

"Not for you, for Sam. Tell her they're perfect."

"They're okay." He shrugged.

"What? Then why do you beg me to make them all the time?"

"I don't know, do you know how to make anything else?"

"Wow..." Ashton chuckled like he'd been deceived. "Okay, I see you. You'll eat your words later, you hear me?" He wiggled a finger. "I won't forget this."

"Sorry, it's my fault." I raised my hand with a smile. "I told him I wanted McDonald's and he went all caveman on me."

"Of course he did." Luka smiled back. "But to be fair, he does make great potatoes. I mean, I think anyone would after their millionth time—"

"That's good, go to bed. Your brain's working too hard." Ashton tried to close the door, but Luka pushed back. "И не забудь одеть наушники, понятно?"

"Hellooo?" I crossed my arms. "English, please."

"You go Sam, tell him." Luka snickered.

Ashton began to argue, but I narrowed my focus on his brother who looked oddly familiar. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"You've might've seen me on TikTok? I do those dance videos." His eyes light up.

Ashton was still going off, but I was too over the moon to listen. "Oh my God! I DO know you...you're so talented! I see your videos all the time. You have like a million followers."