Ashton

I couldn't fucking stop flirting with Sam. Ever since she'd moved in. Every time I saw her. I just wanted her. And she'd be doing the most mundane things, like—

Walking into the living room.

Standing in the kitchen and cooking.

Staring. At anything.

I was around half-naked women half of the week. Tits out, asses out. Grinding on each other. Trying to grind on me. But all I wanted to do was punch them. That's how badly I wanted Sam.

And I couldn't find a good reason not to act on it. Why not? Because we lived together? Big deal. We'd find her a different apartment if worse came to worst. What was I supposed to do? Sit on my ass until someone else snatched her?

I don't fucking think so.

The next Sunday morning, on God's special day to rest, the woman I couldn't stop fantasizing about dared to wake me up. At 8 AM. She knocked and started to sing.

"Ashtonnn! Do you want to have some breakfaaast? Come on, let's go out and eeeat. I'm dragging you around all day. You're stuck with me. There is no other waaay!"

Slowly, I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

"Hellooo. We have a full day of a photoshoot ahead of us. Gotta make content! Hashtag live free." She giggled at her own nonsense. "Can I come in?"

Did I have a choice? "Sure."

I moved the sheets around to hide my morning boner as she cracked the door open. She peaked her head through. A shy smile lifted the apples of her cheeks. Her eyes sparkled like a goddamn cartoon character. She was glowing.

"Get over here." I propped on my elbows for a better look. "Let me see what you're wearing."

"No, don't be dumb."

"Let me see."

She scoffed, hiding behind her hair, and slowly stepped in. A little yellow sundress. Kill me. Just bash my head against a wall, run me over with a truck, then throw my corpse off a bridge.

"I look stupid, huh?" She grimaced, reaching for the white bow behind her hair. "I should take⁠—"

"Leave it." Oops, too harsh. "Leave it, it's cute."

She pouted with doubtful eyes. "Is it? I don't know⁠—"

"I know. You look beautiful. Leave it."

You know what. Going out was a great idea. We could hang out. Get to know each⁠—

"Cara and Luka are coming too," she cut off my thoughts.

"Ah, fuck. Why?"

So what if he was my brother. America was bad for him. He'd be much happier in Russia.

"⁠So they can take pictures of us?" Sam laughed like it was obvious. "You think those pictures online are just two minute selfies? No, sir. Get ready to hold each pose for ten to fifteen minutes."

"That's nothing. I can go all night long." I made an exaggerated snarling face. "Grrr."

"God..." She rolled her eyes. As if her face wasn't tomato red. As if her eyes didn't get that naughty glint.

I knew there was more to her than that sweet innocent act. It was just a matter of time and trust until I unleashed it.

"Listen, if you need to squeeze your morning pickle or sausage or eggplant, whatever God has blessed you with, go ahead," she said. "But when the juice is out, please clean up and come out. Goodbye."

Never mind.

~

"Welcome to Cafe Gratitude." A waiter in a tie-dye shirt and a greasy ponytail approached our table. "Is this your first time here?"

"Unfortunately," I sighed. "Why, do you not recommend it?"

Sam laughed next to me and I slipped my hand on her thigh. She pushed it off though. Rude.

"Um..." Curly hair focused on Cara and Luka. "Have you had a chance to look at our menu?"

"That's a menu?" I picked up the laminated paper. "Then why does it say, I am dazzling?"

"That's how the food is named, so you can say something positive about yourself." Sam whispered behind her cupped hand. "It's for self-love—"

"I already love myself." I turned to curly boy. "I'd like some bacon with eggs—sunny-side-up—and uh, pancakes, please. And definitely coffee."

"Sir, this is a vegan resta⁠—"

"Ah, fuck—"

"I'll order for him." Sam took my menu. Yes, please, help. I can't do this.

"What are you getting?" Cara leaned on the table and placed her hand on Sam's. Excuse me.

"Me?" Sam sighed, not bothered at all. "I don't know. I was thinking the enchiladas?"

The what?

Luka ordered his while I studied Cara. What an odd woman. It was ninety degrees outside. No clouds. Yet she was wearing black from her neck to her toes like she was at a funeral.

"Is that a new eyeshadow?" Sam lit up. Cara nodded. "It looks gorgeous."

Gorgeous? She looked like the Corpse Bride from that Tim Burton movie. As if reading my mind, the scary girl made eye-contact.

"Can I help you?"

What could I ever talk to her about? She was Sam's friend though. We had to get along.

"How's Dracula doing?" I tried to crack a joke. Nothing. "You know, cause you look like⁠—"

"I got it."

Luka smacked his lips. "Don't listen to him. I think you look super cool. I love it."

Okay, the guy was clearly smitten over the angry cat next to him. He was like a Golden Retriever with his tongue out, waiting for attention. But she didn't seem one bit interested.

She could at least acknowledge him.

"Aren't you hot?" I leaned my forearms on the table, staring at her clothes. "Or do vampires—"

Sam pinched my arm. "Shh."

"I mean..." I tried to smile. "You look cool as a vampire. Like that guy from Twilight. Not the main one. The brother. The constipated one!"

Luka groaned into his palm and Sam bit her lip not to laugh. Thankfully, our food shortly came. My stomach was turning itself inside out.

My vegetable tofu scramble looked like vomit. So I went for the only normal thing on the table. A cup of black hot delicious coffee. My cup of Joe.

Luka and Sam screamed.

"STOP WHAT ARE YOU DOING OH MY GOD."

"YOU RUINED EVERYTHING."

I swear, half of the restaurant turned and stared at us. Sam put her hand on her chest like I gave her a heart attack. Luka wiped his forehead.

"Jeez, that was a close call."

"You almost ruined our aesthetic," Sam scolded, then casually stood up on her fucking chair.

"The hell are you⁠—" I whipped left and right for witnesses, but guess what I saw. Everyone was doing the same. Nobody here was normal.

Like a goddamn cult. I saw more selfie-sticks than actual arms. Thirty-year-old men with beards wore scarves and fedora hats. Dogs with outfits on. Women with so much makeup caked on, they looked like the telenovela actresses my mom always watched. Why. Just why.

"Okay, now Luka will take pictures of us." Sam sat down and scooted her body under my arm. I naturally curved it around her waist and rested my hand on her hip. So small. So soft.

"Don't just smile at the camera," Luka curled his lip at me. "This isn't a family picture."

"He's a caveman, he doesn't know these modern things." Sam gossiped as if I wasn't here. "The other day he was eating salami in my room."

"In your room?" He laughed. "That's disgusting!"

"I said the same!" Sam giggled. Alright. I see how it is.

"Okay, Ash, just look at her. Like, be in the moment and let me capture it natural." Luka held up the phone again as Cara sighed. Well, at least we were on the same page about one thing.

"I'm going to go through the poses I sent ya, okay?" Sam said to me.

"Sure." As if I remembered them.

She put her hand on my cheek and kissed the other one. Wait, what? That was so cute, do it again.

"How was that?" She asked Luka.

"Mmm...Ashton looks kind of sad. Ash, can you smile? Like, look down, but smile."

I took a deep breath through my nose. "Sure."

Sam held back a smirk and brought her lips to my ear. "I'll make it up to you." Her warm breath made my arm hair stand up. "Daddy."

I scoffed out a chuckle and she kissed me again.

"Perfect!" Luka shouted.

~

Everything we did for the rest of the day was for other people. Pictures here, pictures there. Sam changed outfits in public restrooms. From jean shorts to evening dresses. Switching her hair from down to pinned up. We stopped on Rodeo Drive, Hollywood Boulevard, Beverly Hills. All around us were a bunch of other influencers doing the same thing.

I kept my complaints to myself, so we could get it over with, but Sam's doubts lagged us every time. Criticism after criticism. About everything. Her hair, her face, her outfit, her body. Nothing was ever good enough.

Where did she get this sick habit from?

Probably why she was single. Any guy would get exhausted from how she put herself down all day long. And it wasn't like she was fishing for compliments. No. Most of the time, she didn't even realize she was cruel to herself.

"Ready to have some fun?" She turned to me as we stood in line to buy tickets at an arcade.

"Are you ready for some fun?" I masked on a smile. "You know. Without your phone?"

"Oh, yeah! Here, take it. I'm done for the day." She actually handed it over, and chuckled. "What? I'm not an addict."

"Yeah, right. I'll believe it when I see it." I shoved her phone in my back pocket.

She gave me a glare. I pinched her pink cheek to annoy her even more. She swatted it away, so I flicked her nose. She pushed my chest with an angry grunt. I ruffled the shit out of her hair.

"Stop!" She squealed as I put her in a headlock, but my phone started vibrating with a call. Mom.

Great. Here we go again. I released Sam and stepped away to answer without them hearing.

"Ну, здравствуйте, как поживаете?" (Well, hello there. How you doin'?)

"Misha, you're still coming over next week, right?"

I forced my voice to stay calm. "Mom. I told you, I don't want to celebrate my birthday⁠—"

"No, you are. You're celebrating. What do you mean you don't want to? What does that mean? It's your birthday. If you don't want to come, don't come. But everyone will be here."

I laughed. "No, thanks. I don't want to feel guilty for the rest of my life. I know you very well."

"Well, if you know, then you come."

I cleared the groan from my throat. "Fine."

"Bring your friends. After dinner with everyone, do whatever you want. Hang out by the fireplace. Smoke hookah. I don't care. But be here."

"Okay, mom. Bye. I have to go."

"I love you." She reminded me, the tone making it clear she expected it back.

"Love you too," I rolled my eyes. I fucking didn't want to go. They did this every year. Every year it was the same argument.

"Mom?" Luka asked knowingly when I went back in line. Sam's eyes rounded with worry.

I threw Luka a warning to keep his mouth shut. If Sam found out my birthday was next week, she'd probably surprise me with something.

"Nothing important." I smiled at them.

~A/N~
Do you guys smell...drama?! Oh my...