Ashton's POV
I'm going to kill Michael. How dare he not tell Ruth that I live here? No wonder he wanted to talk to her alone while I made my design for Serena's wedding cake. It actually pissed me off that he was able to be alone with her while I had no choice but to work. I didn't want them to be in the kitchen alone together for a long time so I sped up my pace when I drew the design out. Thankfully even though I was rushing, it came out looking pretty damn good if I say so myself.
After Serena and Ruth left, Michael told me that Ruth would consider living in the almost-vacant apartment. Well, it was more like she was sold on it after finding out the ridiculously cheap monthly rent. I figured that he told her that I lived here since I am going to be her future neighbor, but I was wrong. Asshole.
I don't know what his motives are, but when I'm done showing Ruth around my apartment, I'll be damn sure to find out.
"Why does it take two flights of stairs to get to each floor?" Ruth complains behind me as we curve around and climbs up the second set of stairs that reach the third floor. "This is ridiculous. I had to climb up two just to get up to Michael's floor, and now another two to get to yours. My calves are killing me."
I turn and look over my shoulder to see Ruth holding tightly onto the rail guard and using it to help pull her up each step. With her skinny blue jeans, shaping her long legs and blue semi-form fitting shirt that's being revealed through her unzipped jacket, it surprises me that going up stairs is wearing her out. With her figure, I figured that she works out or something.
"There is an elevator, just so you know," I inform and she stops mid-step and glares up at me to which I respond by turning back around and climbing the remainder steps and waiting patiently at the top.
"That would have been nice to know before we started going upstairs," she huffs and continues making her way up the last few steps.
"Exercise is good for you." In my attempt to see the positive of taking the stairs, Ruth shakes her head in disagreement.
"This is more exercise than I need," she pants. "I already do pilates and even then, I do it half-assed."
So she does work out—at least a little. Even if she doesn't give it her all, her body figure says differently. "For future reference, the elevator is right there." I point to the metal door adjacent to the stairwell that I've only used once since living here and that was when I was moving all my stuff in.
She nods and places her hands on her knees and inhales and exhales deeply.
When she finally catches her breath and composes herself, I place my hand on the small of her back, which she flinches at, and guide her down the hall to my door. I pull my keys out of my pocket and slip the right one in the keyhole; unlocking it and pushing it wide open.
"Ladies first," I grin and she rolls her eyes with an amused face as she walks through the threshold.
I follow behind her and flip the switch to turn on the lights before shutting the door behind me and tossing my keys into the glass bowl sitting on top of the short table by the entryway. Ruth doesn't say a word as she walks out of the entryway and into the spacious apartment. She may not be saying anything, but from how far her jaw has dropped and her widened eyes, it's obvious that she loves the look of the place.
First in view is the living room that attaches to the open kitchen and dining area. The cream suede couch and matching loveseat are positioned to face the large flat screen TV that hangs above the mantle of the slate fireplace.
"I'm not great with interior decorating," I start, "so that's why there's not much to see in the living room." I don't spend a lot of time in there anyway, so I didn't feel the need to add extra furniture or décor.
"I can see that," she teases, gliding her hand across the soft fabric of the sofa. "I guess cakes are the only thing that you can decorate."
Well, she's not wrong, but I don't dare admit to it.
"Moving along, now." I amble over to where she is standing and guide her past the empty dining area which doesn't even have a table and over to my favorite area: the kitchen.
For an apartment, the kitchen is abnormally large, but I'm not complaining. White cabinets with granite counter tops and appliances surround the area with a long kitchen island dead center in the room. Along one counter is a row of cook books, specifically baking, that are neatly displayed and arranged in order by size. Most of the counters are cleared off with the exception of a toaster, coffee maker, and a dark blue standing mixer.
"Dude," she drags out the word longer than necessary and I chuckle at her reaction to the kitchen. "How the hell can the rent be so cheap when the kitchen and living room are equivalent in size to that of those in a house?" She slowly walks into the tiled room and gazes at everything in awe.
I pull myself up onto the island and watch as Ruth continues to gawk. "My theory is that the landowner wants for people to live in a nice place without it being overpriced, but if I'm wrong, I'd rather not know the real reason."
She hums in response and waltzes over to where all my cookbooks are; pulling one out and flipping through the pages. "Do you bake here as well?" she asks, removing her gaze from the book and looking over at me.
"Yep," I answer short, sweet, and to the point. "Baking is a large part of my life. It makes me sound like a girl, but I love it," I admit. "There's still a lot for me to learn and I like to try out different recipes that I can later use in the bakery. I also like to practice working on the cakes that I've been hired to make here just for fun. I'm not one-hundred percent satisfied with the design for Serena's cake, so I might tweak it a bit and try out different things here."
Ruth stares at me expressionless. I can't tell what's going on in her mind and that drives me crazy. For all I know, she could be debating if I'm actually straight or not since I babbled on about loving to bake.
She parts her mouth slightly, pausing briefly before speaking. "You're really passionate about your job; not many people are like that. They mostly complain and hate what they do for a living, but you enjoy it so much that you bring it home with you. I like that," she smiles before closing the book in her hands and placing it back in its place. "Now, if you would so kindly please show me the rest of the apartment," she gestures for me to lead the way out.
I swear her attitude can change in the blink of an eye. This morning she was dead tired, she left the bakery feeling content, she gets pissed off when she finds out I live here, complains all the way up the stairs, makes jokes out of my lack of ability to decorate my place, and now she's being extremely charming with her kind words.
She's so unpredictable and I like that about her.
"Only because you asked so politely," I tease and rub my hand over her head as I walk past her, messing up her hair. I look over my shoulder and a hint of pink covers her cheeks as she scowls and attempts to fix her disheveled hair.
Turning the corner out of the kitchen, I lead Ruth down a short hallway that leads straight to my bedroom as well as a bathroom on the right.
"You know, for a guy, your place is surprising clean," she admits. "I was expecting for it to be a pigsty in here, but it's the complete opposite."
I bite my tongue because she couldn't be more wrong. Behind these two doors is exactly what she should be expecting: a pigsty. When it comes to common areas in my apartment, I make sure that they are clean, especially the kitchen, but that's just because I use it on a daily basis and I hate when it's a mess. But when it comes to personal spaces of mine, I couldn't give a damn about how clean it is.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," I caution as I open the bathroom door for her viewing.
Ruth peeks her head inside the standard size bathroom and she is immediately disgusted. Her nose scrunches up and her eyebrows furrow together. "I definitely spoke too soon," she mumbles. I watch as her eyes drift around the room, examining the few dirty towels that lay on the ground by the shower and the small puddles of water around the sink that I have yet to dry off.
It's not as bad as my bedroom, but I really should clean up after myself. If I had known I was going to be giving her a tour of my apartment today, this place would be squeaky clean, but I'm stuck having to show her how I really live.
"Just try and picture a clean version of it," I suggest.
"I'm having trouble doing so," she chuckles lightly.
"Well, try harder," I joke and she looks up at me with an even more humored expression.
She shakes her head with a full smile and steps out of the bathroom. "Now I'm afraid to see what the bedroom looks like."
"You should be," I say plainly as I turn off the bathroom light and shut the door. I take the two step walk to the bedroom door and latch my hand onto the doorknob. "It's not a pretty sight in here, but like I said before, try to picture it clean." The hinges squeak as I push open the door and flip the light switch; illuminating the large space and revealing the clothes that are scattered across the floor and hanging off of furniture.
Ruth looks down as she walks inside, maneuvering over the clothes and making sure not to step on them, but accidentally staggers onto my bed. "Okay," she starts, "when was the last time you did your laundry?" She pushes herself up off the king sized bed interrogates me.
"Hey, you told me to give you a tour of my place," I point my finger at her with a grin spreading wide across my face. "That doesn't include you judging my lack of doing chores." She holds her hands up in defense and continues to look around. "They don't provide washers and dryers in each individual apartment, so we all have to use the laundromat by the pool. Almost every time I go there, it's full, so I continually put it off and wait for another day to go."
"Wait, we have to use communal laundromat?" This just might be the deal breaker for her by the way her face has contoured into disgust.
"Uh, yeah. Is that a problem?" I ask hesitantly, hoping that she might look past this small detail and still consider moving into the apartment.
The corner of her lip moves to the side and she looks down to the ground as if the answer to my question lies beneath the heap of clothing on the floor in front of her. "No, I just don't like sharing appliances," she looks back up to me and pushes the strand of hair that has fallen in her face behind her ear.
"Why?"
"Because I don't know what could have caused the questionable stain on the shirt of the person who used the machine before me." I raise an eyebrow at her odd statement. "I don't know what remnants could be left behind from said stain that may transfer over to my clothes when I put them into the wash. It's creepy and I don't like it," she bluntly adds.
It's rude, but I can't help but snort as I laugh at her ridiculous reasoning. "I honestly have no comment for that," I say in between laughs and gasps for air.
"Hey, you're supposed to be giving me a tour of your place; that doesn't include you judging my fear of germs," she smirks and uses my words against me. Well played, Ruth.
I suppress the rest of my amusement and compose myself. "This is kind of the end of the tour unless you want me to show you the hall closets because I'd be more than happy to."
She stifles a laugh and shakes her head. For a split second, I thought she was actually considering it. "I'm good," she says while carefully stepping out of my room and pacing down the hall.
"So, what do you think?" I follow behind her until she stops by the living room.
"About what?" Her hair swings and hits her in the face as she spins around to face me. She flinches and quickly removes the stand of brownish-red hair that got caught in her mouth.
"The apartment. After seeing what it looks like—even though the one two doors down, the rooms might be positioned in the opposite of mine—are you still considering moving in here?" Is it sad that I'm actually crossing my fingers behind my back as I ask her this? This impromptu tour was fun just like every encounter that I've had so far with her, and I can only imagine what else could happen if she moved in.
Ruth adjusts the strap to her purse on her shoulder and licks her pink lips. Don't do that. Now I can't look away from them as she speaks. "I like it. With the exception of the laundromat thing, I really like it." Her lips thin out as she smiles. "I don't have very many options and I'm sure I can figure out a way to deal with the laundry situation as well as put up with living in the same complex as you and douchebag."
I guess she's still not over Michael's set-up. I will have to thank him though for giving me the chance to hang out with Ruth again. "Well, then I guess I should tell you that the landowner's office is the building to right of this. If you talk to him, he might make a deal with you to rent out the place before it goes up on the market."
"Is that even legal?" she questions.
I shrug my shoulders. "I honestly have no idea, but it's worth a shot."
She agrees and walks towards the entryway. "Thanks for showing me around. I know I kind of forced you to, but thanks for agreeing anyway."
"It's no problem," I rub her head again, but this time she doesn't put in the effort to fix her hair. She just grins and swats my hand away. I hold the front door open and let her exit while I lean against the door for support. "If you need help with anything, just let me know," I tell her.
She nods slightly. "I will." Her back turns to me and I watch as she ambles over to the elevator by the staircase and enters once the doors spread open.
"And here I thought you and the stairs were good friends," I holler at her.
"Hell no!" she yells back before the doors close, ending my view of her bright smile.
I chuckle to myself before grabbing my keys from the glass bowl and leaving my apartment. I rush down the stairs and over to Michael's door. After searching for the spare key to his apartment on the key ring, I shove it into the hole and unlock the door with ease. Michael comes rushing down the short hallway from his room and gives me a guilty smile as I shut the door behind me.
"What the hell was that?" I'm not as angry with him as I was before, so my question comes out a lot more calm than what he was expecting.
His shoulders slump and he begins making his way to the living room where he plops down on the sofa. "I thought it would be a good surprise. I didn't tell her that you lived here because I didn't know how she would react to it. I also didn't tell you that she was coming over to check out what the inside of the apartments look like, so that you would be just as surprised as she when you two run into each other."
"Well, it was a pretty damn good surprise for the both of us." I sit down next to him. "She made me show her my apartment since you cowered out."
"Oh yeah?" his interest peaks. "How'd that go?"
"Other than being repulsed by my bath and bedroom, she likes it. She's going down to talk to the landowner as we speak," I grin with satisfaction.
"Nice. It'll be fun having her live here. She and I can make up for lost time and you can do whatever the hell it is you're trying to do with her."
"Thanks, you make it sound like I'm only trying to get in her pants," I roll my eyes.
"If the opportunity were there, would you?" he smirks deviously.
I narrow my eyes at him. "I..." I fumble with my words. Yes, Ruth is someone who I wouldn't mind having underneath me, but I wouldn't just fuck her for the hell of it. I'm not like that. If it ever were to happen, I would like for there to be some sort of relationship between us. "Not unless it was consensual," I state firmly.
"Seriously?" Michael's eyebrows rise up.
"Yes. Would you?" I turn the question to him.
"Sixteen year old me would take that chance in a heartbeat. I had the biggest crush on her in high school," he reveals. I didn't know he had a crush on her back then. Does he still have one? He doesn't seem interested when he talks to her, so probably not.
"And what would twenty-one year old you do?"
"I'd have to be in the situation to find out," he says casually.
I stare at him shortly before looking down to my clenched fists that I didn't even know I made. Michael knows that I'm interested in Ruth. He wouldn't do anything that would ruin my chance with her. I know him better than that. He's my best friend and I trust him not to do anything to get in the way. This is mine and Ruth's game. Michael is going to have to sit on the sidelines for this one whether he likes it or not.
__________
A.N:
I finally updated! It feels so good to write. I hate how college is taking it away from me because I'm so busy. Updates are really going to be slow, but I'm trying my best to keep up with it.
So, Ruth is going to get the apartment! Yay! She and Ash are so cute. I like the way they bicker with each other. Her moving in is going to make things interesting between the two of them. But what about Michael? He's starting to act a bit questionable. What do you think is going to happen with him and Ruth? Is Ruth going to get in the way of Ash and Michael's friendship? Hmm....
Also, if you're wondering where Luke is, don't worry. He'll be coming in a bit later. Not sure when, but he's coming.
I hope you guys liked this chapter! I really love writing from Ash's POV. For some reason it's easier than Ruth's. I don't know, it's weird. Thank you guys for over 800 reads! I'm surprised that it has this many in such a short amount of time. It makes me happy to know that you guys like it. Please continue to vote, comment and share. I love reading your comments. A lot of them make me laugh because you're so witty, hahaha. But yeah, tell me your thoughts and predictions. :)
Thank you again! I love you guys!! —Rebecca xoxoxoxoxoxo
P.S. I got my bridesmaid dress the other day :3 It's a little bit different from the other bridesmaids because I'm the maid-of-honor, so it's cool that I get to stand out a bit. I'm so excited for my best friend's wedding!!
Oh, and Ashton with glasses is killing me. He looks so good.