headache

Ashton’s POV

“You went to the art show, Ashton?” Connie nearly hissed, stepping in front of me as I sat on the couch in my living room. “What are you even still doing here, Connie?” I muttered, kicking off my shoes. “Didn’t your contract end a week ago?” She pouted, folding her arms across her chest. “Yes,” she answered. “But I don’t have anywhere else to go. I’m in between jobs and my next contract doesn’t start for another couple of weeks.”

“So, why can’t you stay elsewhere?”

“I don’t know anyone on this part of the continent,” Connie said, shaking her head. “You are my only

friend in town, and I’d like to stay close to you. Is that such a crime?”

“Are you going to be a pest the entire time?” I asked, but I meant it almost teasingly despite how dry my tone was. Connie could see through my humor right away though and rolled her eyes as she sat beside me. “You are trying to avoid the conversation,” Connie pointed out, reminding me just how well she knew me. “You went to the art show.”