Chapter Seven
Niall sent a text back, confirming that he would speak with Daisy. Louis tucked his phone into the pocket of his pants, gave thanks for Niall and allowed his gaze to return to the girl he'd noticed.
He set his plate down, crossed his arms and leaned against the table. As he watched her, a slow, lazy smile stretched across his face. Outside, the rain had picked up and the wind howled a vicious scream but watching her was like being in the midst of a heatwave. She radiated. Her arms spread out at her sides and she twirled sending her chestnut colored hair fanning around her. She was seemingly lost in a world all her own and it only took Louis a second to decide he wanted to be part of it.
She wore a blood red dress that was snug at the top but tapered out at the bottom, offering him a view of shapely legs. Her eyes skimmed over him and she flashed him a sly, encouraging grin. Not one to waste time, Louis walked to the spot she'd claimed on the dance floor.
"Hello. I'm-"
Before he could even formally introduce himself, she extended her hand. "Louis Tomlinson," she said. "I know. I'd have to be living under a rock if I didn't. Oh, not to mention, you are the guest of honor." She nodded to a poster, "Happy Birthday."
He kept his grip on her hand. "Thank you," he said. "Apologies for the obvious display of ego. I swear it isn't mine."
"Don't apologize for being you, who is also coincidentally, famous. Besides, you give everyone here something to be proud of," she said. Her eyes darted to their hands, hers still encircled in his grip. "I'm Ashley."
"You're beautiful." Oops. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.
Instead of shying away, Ashley held her head high and looked him in the eyes. "Maybe so," she said. "But I'm still Ashley."
"Beautiful Ashley, then," he decided.
Her face flushed with color at the same time his heart began to beat faster and he was quite positive she was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. "Do you fancy dancing by yourself?"
"I fancy dancing," she said. "And there was no one here to dance with. I won't let the fact that I'm alone stop me. So yes, I guess a shorter answer to your question is I do fancy dancing by myself."
Louis crooked his arm for her to take. "An admirable trait," he said, "but may I cut in on yourself?"
She laughed and gave a faux southern accent and looping her arm through his, accepted his invitation. "Why Mr. Tomlinson. I thought you'd never ask."
He led her to the far end of the dance floor and happily put his arms around her, not quite able to believe his luck. She was different. Every nerve in his body told him so, had he stayed home and not come, who knew what he'd be missing now. Coming to the party was a wise decision.
Louis and Ashley began to sway to the music as a group of people closed in around them. They held up cell phones and flashes from cameras went off. Ashley was nearly the same color as her dress with all the attention. He pulled her closer and whispered, "Don't let them make you nervous, love. You'll get used to it."
Like a pro, she kept the smile that was on her face firmly in place and spoke through her teeth. "I am not sure I'd ever get used to this."
"I know it's perhaps a bit strange at first," he said. "But if you suffer through this dance with me. I'd love to go somewhere, just the two of us."
He twirled her around and as she whirled back in his arms, she said. "You're the guest of honor."
"And therefore," he said. "I reckon I can do whatever I want. Besides, it's not like leaving a party is unruly behavior. Quite the opposite."
"I suppose," Ashley said. "Where could we go?"
Louis dipped her and when he did, the sound of the flashes picked up. "At the risk of sounding forward, I can't go anywhere without-" he paused, unsure of how to finish the sentence without sounding pompous.
"You don't need to explain," she said. "I get it. Every time I turn around for the last month there is a picture of you somewhere. The whole town has been waiting for you to come home. If you really want to leave we can go to my house." Louis grinned and she squeezed his shoulder. "No silly assumptions, Mr. Tomlinson. I'm not taking you home-in that way."
"'Course not," he huffed. It was not his intention. He simply wanted to know her.
After finishing their dance, Louis took several more pictures, spoke to press people who were there and politely excused himself. He'd suggested to Ashley that she leave the building first, to avoid the assumptions from the paparazzi that would be on every website the next day if they were caught leaving together. He wasn't sure why he'd suggested it; their shared dance was enough to fuel the rumor mill anyway.
She was quiet as they drove until she asked, "Would you mind stopping?"
"No," Louis replied. "Not at all. Where'd you want to stop, love?"
"At the store. I've run out of tea this afternoon."
Louis looked at his watch. "It's after dark. Seems awfully late for tea."
"No," she disagreed. "I need Chamomile. It helps me sleep. If I don't drink a cup each night before bed, I toss and turn."
Thirty minutes later, Ashley held a box of Chamomile tea bags in her hands as Louis fought to get the car down the driveway to her cottage. It was a mess of mud and the tires spun endlessly rather than catch purchase on the slick ground below and it felt like a ride at a carnival.
"It's really bad out here," she said. "To be honest, I'm glad you're here. I don't really like storms. They frighten me a little. I'm glad I'm not alone."
Had he been considering risking the drive home, he wasn't now. Ashley didn't need to utter another word. If she wanted him to stay with her, he'd be more than happy to oblige.
Lacking an umbrella made for a very short and very wet run to the front door. The key jammed in the lock and when she laughed, it was all he could do but imagine how great she must have sounded as the thunder rolled across the sky. He took the key from her and jiggled the thing around until he felt the lock give.
She nearly fell through the door. "Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed, flicking on the light switch. "It's terrible!"
"Your lock is terrible," Louis said, jamming his thumb back in the direction of the offending doorknob. "Someone should fix it for you." He looked around and realized a great deal of things could use fixing in her home.
It was miniscule to begin with. Couldn't have been more than a sixth of the size of his flat in London. The living area and kitchen were combined into one. A small door led off into the back of the cottage. He assumed it was her bedroom until she headed that way, turned its light on and grabbed two towels. It was a bathroom.
She handed him a towel and kept one for herself, running it roughly along her dark hair.
"Where's your bed?" No sooner did the question leave his lips that he realized how bad it must have sounded. "I mean where do you sleep?" he corrected himself. "Your place is so small."
She walked over to the fireplace, striking a match and throwing it in. She had one of those strange single logs that would burn for hours. Marching to a spot on the wall which appeared to be showcasing a single, bare shelf, she tugged. The wall opened up as she pulled a Murphy bed down. "Tada!"
A wall bed! He'd always wanted one of those. He must have looked excited because Ashley swept her hand across it as if to showcase it. "You can sit on it if you want."
Didn't have to ask him twice. Louis loosened his bow tie, removed his tux jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Then he removed his shoes and his socks and walked over to the bed, throwing himself on top. The springs were like rocket launchers though and nearly sent him flying off the mattress. "Should come with a warning," Louis said.
Ashley giggled and this time he could hear the beautiful cadence of her laugh. "It's bouncy," she said.
Louis sat up and crossed his legs. "You know what it reminds me of, one of those bouncy castles you can rent for a little one's birthday party."
Ashley's eyes widened. "I always asked my Mum for one of those. She never got me one though."
"Well," he said. "You have one now."
"But it's your birthday," she said. "Maybe we should jump on it."
Louis looked at the ceiling, "I reckon I'd hit my head."
"You're probably right." She walked over to a dresser on the far side of the room and grabbed something from the drawers before entering the bathroom. She emerged moments later in flannel pajama pants and a band t-shirt.
"Harry would love your top," Louis said.
"Sorry I don't have anything to offer you to wear."
"That's alright, love."
"I can offer you a tea."
"Yeah," Louis said. "I'd absolutely love that."
Ashley walked the ten feet that separated her kitchen from the rest of her place and set the kettle on the stove. Louis watched her, fascinated about how she removed mismatched cups from the cupboard and held up a bowl filled with sugar cubes.
"Sugar?"
He made a face. "With Chamomile? No."
"Me neither," she said, putting it back. "But you never know."
"Right," he nodded. Since he'd walked in he'd felt like something was missing but it wasn't until she came back with the teas in her hand and gave him one that he realized what it was.
"You've no Christmas tree."
She shook her head. "Where could I fit one of those?"
"I don't know," he said. He hadn't thought about the logistics of the entire situation. "But everyone should have one."
Ashley crawled onto the bed beside him and slipped her feet under the covers. She shuffled closer to Louis and he dared to hold an arm up and wrap it around her shoulders. She didn't protest but rather snuggled herself even closer to his body.
"So," Louis said, "tell me a little about yourself."
They spent the next several hours this way, talking and he confirmed what he'd decided earlier, that everything about her was different. He could have stayed there, in that spot indefinitely, just listening to the sound of her voice. What she liked, what she didn't. Her contagious giggle.
Before long, her words slowed and then stopped altogether. Her breathing was soft and even. Louis peeked at her. Her eyes were closed, showcasing incredibly long eyelashes and her lips were parted slightly. The rain had let up and even though he knew he should, he didn't want to leave.
Ashley sighed in her sleep and smiled and it nearly took his breath away. He gently brushed some wayward hair from her forehead.
"Louis," she mumbled.
Sure his movement had caused her to stir, he asked, "What, love?"
She didn't respond and when he moved again to inspect further she was still asleep.
"Louis, I think I could fall in love with you."
His eyes grew wide, surely she was coherent for that one! But once again, no, she was enjoying what was obviously a dream filled slumber.
Figures things would get interesting when he had to leave. The sun would be rising soon, bringing Christmas morning with it and he needed to be with his family. Careful not to wake her, he slipped his body from beside her, pulling the covers to her chin and kissing her forehead.
A pen and paper sat on her tiny dining table. He drew an awkward sketch of a pine tree and penned underneath it.
"Sleeping Beauty,
Everyone deserves a Christmas tree. Come to London with me next week and I'll make sure you get one." He added his phone number and 'XOXO Louis' at the bottom.
As he collected his items and walked to his car, he made a last minute Christmas wish-that Ashley would agree to join him.