never be » lrh book one

Chapter 12

J E A L O U S Y
&
R O S E S

Sam's POV

I arrive at Ashton's house and to my surprise, my nerves are starting to build up. I try to remind myself that it's only Ashton, and since he's such a sweetheart, his family probably is too.

I get out of my car, shutting the door, I yawn. This usually happens when I'm nervous. As I walk up the steps to Ashton's front door, I wipe my hands on my thighs, antsy. I don't know whether to knock on the door or ring the doorbell, so I try the doorbell first. Luckily, I hear it ring and the ring is followed by a bit of yelling and some footsteps. I giggle, hearing Ashton tell someone to not be annoying.

He opens the door and smiles when his eyes land on me. It's almost like his face brightens. My nerves build up even more as I step inside and see his sister, who's only 2 years younger than me. She's quite intimidating, if you ask me. Ashton gives me a warm smile and places his hand on the small of my back. He turns to his two siblings who stand, giggling.

"Sam, this is Harry," Ash motions to his little brother, ruffling his hair and causing Harry to groan, "and this is Lauren." She offers a smile, but I'm still intimidated. It's always weird meeting your best friend's siblings. Especially when your best friend is the opposite gender.

"Ashy, is this your girlfriend?" Harry asks, laughing and throwing his head back. I don't know whether to take it as a compliment or an insult. Ashton turns red and scowls at Harry.

"No, this is my friend. My best friend." He answers, guiding me away from his younger siblings. We walk into the kitchen and Ashton is quick to begin talking as soon as we're away from Harry and Lauren.

"Sorry about Harry. He's only 10. Anyway, would you like a quick tour?" He asks, leaning on the tiled countertop.

"Yeah, sounds great." I answer, happy that he can't tell I almost had an anxiety attack when I arrived. I used to get them all the time when I lived alone. Back when my parents were in comas, for about a month I lived alone. Their bodies somehow survived the blast, but I stopped visiting them. I know it's cowardly, but the government—thanks to my amazing parents signing papers that allowed me to be allowed to legally live alone when I was 16—had just given me all my parents money, so I stopped visiting. I then began to search for places to live and I got so time consumed I never had the energy to make the trip to the hospital. They're either still in comas or dead because I haven't heard from them.

Ashton guides me through his house, telling me all the rooms. It's fairly quick, but once we reach his room he stops and blushes for a second before opening the door and nervously standing back for me to go in.

"It's a bit of a mess, but it was worse before you got here." He chuckles, letting me take his room in. He has a few band posters on his walls, and some family and friends photos in picture frames. There's a small drum kit in the corner and some soundproof padding along some of his walls. There's a cajón box drum beside a larger drum kit. He has a twin bed in the corner, a stereo with a ton of CDs, and a small TV mounted on the wall. On the floor lies a faded navy blue rug. Beside his bed is a very small mahogany desk that looks pretty old, and a lava lamp on top of it.

"I love it." I smile, turning around and smiling widely at Ashton, which causes him to deflate from his up-tight position and grin.

"Thank God, I thought you'd hate it." He laughs, which contagiously makes me laugh as well.

"It's not as great as your house of course but... it's home." Ashton says proudly. It's so cute how he's so happy and content with his small life. I love it, and him.