Chapter 4

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Chapter 4

 

Valerie’s P.O.V.

 

“I can’t do this!” I groan, chucking the controller at Ashton’s chest. He catches it before it hits him and gives me the most serious look I’ve ever seen on his face.

“Valerie Hart, do not give up. You will learn how to play video games by the end of the day.” He tells me, grabbing the remote and putting it back in my hands.

“But Ashton Fletcher Irwin, I am but a simple girl with no motive to play the game or even learn how to!” I say, a small smile playing on my lips.

“How about a break? You hungry?”

“Kind of.” I admit with a shrug.

“Kind of?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m starving, you cheeky bastard.”

He stands up and grabs my hands, pulling me up. He doesn’t let go as we walk down the hall, down the stairs, and into his kitchen. I can’t help but look around in awe. His house is so huge. Absolutely monstrous. And everything is so nicely decorated and clean. It’s spotless.

“So, what do you want to eat?” He asks, leaning against the counter.

I shrug. “Whatever you want.”

“You’re going to give me that sort of liberty?” He asks with a sly smile.

“Not anymore.” I tell him with a smile. “Okay, how about spaghetti?”

“I could cook you something amazing, and you choose spaghetti?” He asks.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were a good cook.” I tell him, watching him move across the kitchen into the pantry, which is fully stocked.

“Well, I am. And I’m going to make you the best fucking spaghetti you’ve ever had, Valerie Hart.”

I open my mouth to say something, but I’m cut off by the doorbell.

“Who’s that?” I ask, taking a seat on a barstool by the counter.

“I don’t know.” He says. “Let me answer it. Don’t move.” He tells me before darting out of the kitchen, sending a box of pasta flying across the room.

I laugh and stand up. I walk over to the box of pasta and set it back on the counter by the big pot he’s already gotten out. There’s a wooden spoon sitting next to it and I bite my lip, smiling. Ashton’s so weird. I love it.

“So, you still up for pasta?” Ashton asks, walking back into the kitchen.

“Did you not just hear me Irwin? I’m absolutely famished and if that pasta doesn’t make it in my mouth in the next minute, I’ll surely die of a severe case of starvation.”

“Well, we certainly don’t want that to happen.”

“We most certainly do not.” I confirm.

“We just have to make a quick detour.”

“I can’t do it. I’m about to pass out.” I tell him, clutching onto my stomach.

He rolls his eyes. “Come on.” He says, grabbing my hand and dragging me forward. I trip over my feet and laugh, catching up with him.

“Where are we going, Mr. Irwin?”

“That’s almost as bad as Fletcher.”

“That’s almost as bad as Fletina.”

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