Love Me Later

I barely slept when I heard the alarm.

Crap!

I opened my eyes to the unfamiliar surroundings, and it dawned on me.

Today is my first day in Ashton Greene's home. I dragged myself to the bathroom as my mind played the conversation between me and my parents last week before they left to attend a series of business dealings abroad.

"Natasha, honey?"

I paid attention to my 45-year-old dad, Jeremy Collins. My father stands at 5'10". He started growing his gray hair in his late 30s and has kept the same short hairstyle since his hairline started to recede.

I noticed how his hazel-brown eyes pleaded. I knew that I might not like whatever he was going to say.

"Uhm...yes, dad?"

He glanced at my mom. She is busy putting a slice of my favorite red velvet cake on the plate.

"You guys are killing me. What is it?" I asked impatiently.

"Well, honey. You know how online shopping platforms helped to expand our business?"

I knew my dad was serious when I noticed the crease between his browse. Then, he pressed his lips together before he threw a pleading look at my mom.

I rolled my eyes when he did not answer.

"Yes. The technology paved our way to the global market... so?" I feigned a smile.

I wondered where this conversation was going.

I am in my last year as a Business Administration and Marketing student. Our family's online store was originally a product of a marketing project I had in one of my classes.

"And?" I looked at my mom, Julia Collins.

Julia is the same age as my dad, a brunette who stands at 5'7" and has eyes the same light brown color as mine.

If my memory serves me right, I have not seen her hair grow beyond her shoulders. She has had her hair colored, straightened, and curled. But they were almost always the same length.

"The global market demand is constantly increasing. We wanted to explore the possibility of expanding abroad." my mom smiled at my dad.

"Well, isn't that good news?"

I still don't understand where this conversation is heading. My dad interrupted my thoughts.

"Well, honey. We are flying abroad and might be gone for at least six months. You know, to attend a series of meetings with possible local suppliers. We also have to comply with the other business requirements of the country."

"We also need to supervise the establishment of the local office and the shop. Not to add the training and the hiring of local employees." My mom added.

Tears began to well up in my eyes.

At least six months? The longest they've been away for a business trip was two weeks, nothing more than that.

"Mom, should you go too?"

"You know your dad, dear. He's more of a baby than you are."

My dad rolled his eyes.

"Besides, honey, as much as we love you and want you to stay with us, you're graduating this semester. And we don't want to mess with that, do we?"

My mom put her hands into mine.

"Maybe this is also the best time for you to learn some independence." she waved her hands in the air, looked at my dad, and then continued, "And probably explore the management of our business?"

My heart sank. It is partly true. All my peers live in an apartment, work part-time, and pay their bills. On the other hand, I am a 23-year-old woman who still lives in my room at my parent's house.

Though I have started "working" as part of the administrative staff in our company since graduating from high school, I have heard gossip about how my salary was probably just my allowance. They said I earn way better than the senior administrative employee.

"I understand," I said with a playful smile. I leaned over the counter and teased, "How soon can I invite my friends to weekend parties?"

I grinned. My parents exchanged worried glances.

I sensed the hesitation in my mom's voice when she spoke.

"Well, dear. Though I trust that you will not do anything of that sort, I'm afraid you can't do that."

Dad scratched his balding forehead. Then he said, "No, honey. Your mom is right. You can't do that." He glanced at my mom again, widened his eyes, and said, "Not with Ashton around."

My jaws dropped.

"What? Do you mean Ashton, your friend's son Ashton Greene?"

I looked at my mom.

"Mom, I thought you said this is to learn how to be independent?"

"Well, dear, Ashton is a family friend. The one we trusted the most. So we figured that while we want you to be independent, he seems the right person to look after you while we're gone."

"He's our business partner too." My dad added. "So while we're away, we asked him to teach you about our business operations."

"I am 22! An adult! I don't think I need a guardian at this age." I let out a desperate sigh.

My dad took another worried look at my mom.

"There's more to this arrangement, right?" I asked.

"I am sorry, dear." My mom grasped my hands. " We know you can be a little rebellious, and should we say immature? So, we thought Ashton should stay with you and use one of our rooms."

My dad smirked. "But he said he can't."

Yes!

I might have rejoiced prematurely. Dad shook his head amidst his chuckle.

"Honey, I wouldn't be too happy if I were you." He pressed his lips again. "While he can't move here, he asked if you can live in his house instead. You know, his house, his rules."

I felt nervousness creep into my system. "Please tell me you said no."

"And we said yes." My mom said.

"What?" I said it louder than I intended to.

Did I hear them right? How can they say yes? Do they trust Ashton that much?

"Mom...Dad! Ugh! Do you realize that you're leading me straight to the lion's den, right?" I pouted my lips. "Sometimes I wonder if you love me."

"You know we do, honey. You know we do." My dad pulled me into a hug and kissed my forehead.

"I'm sorry, dear." Mom approached me and gave me an embrace.

I heard hurried footsteps outside my room, which took me to the present time.

I glanced at the door, sighed, and stared again at the ceiling. I kicked my feet in the air, frustrated by the situation.

I finished my bath quickly and then wrapped myself in a bathrobe. I headed towards the dresser and reached for the moisturizers. I walked to the bed, raised my left leg at the edge, and applied the lotion.

The door to my right took me by surprise when it burst open.

There, I saw the 35-year-old Ashton Greene, his eyes widened in shock. I docked behind the edge of the bed and tried to block his view of my almost naked body.

"Jesus Christ! I know this is your house, but don't you know how to knock?"

I felt the heat shoot up to my face. I knew that I was probably blushing from embarrassment.

"Well, good morning to you too. I thought you were ready because the door wasn't locked." He said as he leaned on the door frame. " I also want to remind you that I don't want us to be late. Come down when you're done. Breakfast is ready.

He put his hands on his waistband. His sleeveless sweatshirt exposed the toned muscles on his biceps. He furrowed his brows, and a smirk appeared on his face.

"Stop with the blushing, will you? I didn't see anything!" He said as if he was teasing me.

I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. "Ugh! I can't believe I am going to spend six more months with an asshole like you."

He caught the pillow with his hands and threw it back on my bed.

"Watch your mouth, lady. I won't tolerate that behavior in my home." He was about to get out, then he paused. "And I am also happy to spend more than half the year with you."

He winked, then he reached for the door. He pointed at the lock on the knob and locked it before he pulled it close.

I am not used to locking my bedroom door. Neither Mom nor Dad gets in without knocking. Not even the house helpers.

I continued what I was doing. I dried my shoulder-length hair, put on light makeup, and prepared everything I needed for the day. I zipped my bag as I dashed out of my room.

I headed to the stairs and was about to grab the main door when I heard Ashton behind me. I turned around and saw that he was also ready to leave.

"And where are you going?" he asked. Ashton glanced at me, still buttoning the sleeve on his left wrist.

I furrowed my brows and wondered how quickly he had changed into a white long-sleeve shirt, which he tucked into his black pants.

Did I take that long to change?

I shook my head to yank the thoughts away and answered with irritation, "To school, I guess? Where else should I go? I have a 9:30 class."

Ashton glanced at his watch. "Good. It's barely 8 AM. Let's have a quick breakfast." He grabbed me by my shoulders and turned me towards the kitchen.

"Uhm.. thanks. But I am good. I am running late." I turned around and took a step backward.

"This place is closer to the university than your parents' home. You'll get there in half an hour." He grabbed me by my wrist and pulled me to the dining table." Your shenanigans won't work. I know when I am being lied to."

Ashton pulled out a chair before he put his hands on my shoulders. "Now, sit."

"Look, I have to go. I will appreciate it if you treat me like an adult and allow me to go."

He just smirked.

"How about I'll treat you like an adult if you act like one?" He grabbed my shoulder again. Ashton did not put much force into it but pushed my shoulders down to make me sit. "We will have this breakfast. I cannot finish all these."

In front of me is a plate of bacon, some scrambled eggs, and two slices of bread. I can also smell the coffee brewing from the countertop.

Hmm. Tempting

I looked around for a food container and found them in the cupboard. I grabbed one, made myself a sandwich, put it inside the container, sealed it, and then put it inside my bag. I glanced at the Nespresso machine and contemplated whether I should pour myself a cup of coffee or not

But then I decided against it. If I did that, I would have to wait for the coffee to cool down. I can also put ice on it but I still have to spend awkward minutes with Ashton at the dining table.

Nah, I can't do that. However...

It looks like Ashton's cup of coffee has been sitting on his cup for a while. It's not just Americano. He put something else on it. I tilted my head.

From what I remember, Ashton had always preferred black coffee. I shoved him aside and studied his coffee closer.

Ashton cleared his throat. He nodded at me as if he was asking what.

Unknowingly, my lips stretched into a playful smile.

Ashton looked down at his coffee as if he understood my thoughts. He grabbed the handle before I did but I slapped his hand and took the mug from him. I took the lid closer to my mouth. The rich vanilla scent wafted in my nose.

Ah! Caramel macchiato.

I took a sip from it. His coffee is too sweet, and the taste of caramel lingers on my lips.

Ashton likes his coffee sweet? This is more like a coffee I would make for myself.

I heard Ashton call my name, but I did not pay him any attention. I walked back to the cupboard, still holding the mug. I reached out for the tumbler that I saw earlier. I moved back to the table and put the coffee down. I opened the tumbler's lid and smelled it. It was then that I saw Ashton trying to snatch his coffee back.

"Uh-uh. Mine." I slapped Ashton's hand.

Ashton shrugged his shoulders, smiled, and answered. "Yours."

Then he pulled out a chair to sit on. "That's clean. Why do you need that?"

I ignored him. Instead, I went to the fridge, filled the tumbler with some ice, returned to the dining table, and poured the coffee in. I took another sip. Already satisfied with it, I closed the lid tightly.

"Problem solved. Enjoy your breakfast. Ta-ta!" Ashton dropped his jaw. I heard him chuckle as I zipped my bag and turned away, carrying the tumbler in my other hand.

"Unbelievable!" I heard him say.

When I turned to look, I saw him laughing and running his hand through his hair. I sprinted and made my way through the door.

ASHTON'S POV

I knew Natasha would refuse to have breakfast with me. I won't let her outsmart me. I already know her daily schedule. Her parents have also left me with a to-do list which I didn't pay much attention to. I even teased them because they made it seem like I was babysitting a toddler.

However, I did pay attention to what Natasha likes to eat and drink. Julia said Natasha rarely eats breakfast at home. She prefers to carry them to school and have them with her friends.

But I know too that she will not voluntarily take the breakfast with her even if I put it in a container. I need to trick her into taking it.

I looked around my dining area and thought about where I could strategically place the containers without them being too obvious. The top left of the cupboard is just a step away from the dining table. I placed the container and the tumbler there.

The rest is easy. I know she can't refuse bacon and coffee. I learned from Julia about the coffee flavor that Natasha wants. I even prepared the same brand. I laughed at how she acted the way I thought she would.

Satisfied with what I did, I took another mug, poured espresso shots and hot water into it, took a sip, and enjoyed the rich taste of black coffee. I absent-mindedly smiled at the proud look on Natasha's face when she darted into the hallway.

Once I reached the university, I headed to my college cafeteria and searched for my friends. I saw them waving at me at one of the tables.

I sat beside Timothy Clarkson, a campus heartthrob, though I don't exactly see why. Tim has rare green eyes that suit his reddish-brown hair. Though cut short, his hair has bangs that cover parts of his forehead. Tim is muscular but only stands 5'9", shorter than what I would call a hunk. On him is a plain blue tee over his denim pants that runs above the length of his ankle. He partnered it with a pair of black slip-on loafers.

For comparison, Ashton is 6'3" and dresses more handsomely and neatly than Tim.

Memories from earlier flooded my thoughts. I shut my eyes tightly and hushed my brain.

"So, spill!" Vea giggled.

"Did you two share a bed?" Camille asked a playful smile on her lips.

I gasped and threw a crumpled table napkin at my friends. I have known Vea Montgomery and Camille Vasquez since we were in middle school.

Vea stood at 5'3". She held her copper brown hair that ran to her shoulders into a loose bun, some of it fell on the sides of her small, round face. She has thick lashes and winged liners that accentuate her big, honey-brown eyes, small and high-bridged nose, and thin lips that sometimes show her upper canines. Coupled with fair skin that is almost pale, Tim nicknamed her the vampire chick or the vamp.

Her family owns the Montgomery General Hospital. Everyone in her family expected her to pursue medicine, like her parents, both surgeons. To her family's dismay, she took Creative Arts. Growing up, Vea has always been the creative one. But to us, Vea's career choice wasn't a surprise.

Vea used to give us personalized greeting cards for our birthdays and other occasions. When we were 13, Vea gifted me with a charcoal portrait drawing of myself, and it still hangs on my bedroom wall.

I noticed she had one of her denim jumper pants over a white shirt. Vea has lots of them and wears them even if some have paint stains. On her wrists are layers of black and brown leather bracelets.

My eyes followed Vea's hands as she handed Camille a clean sheet of table napkin to wipe off the mayo that spilled in the corner of her mouth.

Camille Vasquez is a 5'5" Mexican-American whose family runs a small law firm. Her father also works as a Legal Consultant for my family's furniture business. Though she never told us directly, Camille wanted to follow in her father's footsteps. She said before that she took the Business Administration course to become a business lawyer later.

Camille tied her naturally black and curly hair in a half pony. She has a square jaw face, dark, bushy brows, and black, round eyes surrounded by thick, curly lashes. Camille got a small, but round nose with a bulbous tip and naturally full lips.

Camille smacked her lips and said, "Hey, you, chica. Are you gonna tell us anything, or are you just gonna stare at my lips?"

"Please! Can we just eat? I have nothing to spill!" I pulled the food container from my bag and put it on the table. Vea threw me a doubting look.

"Wow! Looks like the dashing Mr. Greene does not want our girl to starve."

I rolled my eyes. Tim glanced at us as if he was watching a tennis match. By the confused look on his face, I knew he was having difficulty trying to figure out what was going on.

"Okay. So your parents left for abroad and be gone for at least half of the year." He said facing me. "Then they left you under the care of this, Mr. Greene, who you said is a family friend?"

I nodded my head.

"I'm sorry. But how old is Mr. Greene again? And why are they teasing you about him? Do you guys have a history or something?"

Unlike Vea and Camille, who were my friends since the third grade, I met Tim at the university. He was my classmate in one of the subjects during our freshman year. We became close when we worked on a project together. I introduced Tim to Vea and Camille later on, and surprisingly, his personality also clicked with them. Tim is a varsity athlete and only hangs out with us whenever he's not busy with training.

Whenever Tim hangs out with us, we always do random things together. We play video games or go out to see the latest movies. All of us like Marvel movies. And whenever a new one comes out, we know we all have to schedule it and go. Tim also does some exercise with us like jogging, going to the gym, or trekking. Sometimes, he also invites us out of town with a couple of his other friends.

But we seldom talk about the past or any previous relationships around him. We don't discuss girly stuff or anything that Tim would find boring. That's like one of the unspoken rules of our friendship. If we ever have to mention it we talk about it in passing. So it's natural for Tim to be clueless about Ashton Greene. After all, Ashton was supposed to be a thing of the past.

"Ashton was his first love." Camille interrupted my thoughts.

"Wow! So you're not a lesbian, after all!" Tim exclaimed.

I hit him in his arms.

"Really, Tim? You thought I was a lesbian? Well, not that I have a problem with them or with any members of the LGBT.

But really?!" I slapped his arms after every sentence that I finished.

"You know I was kidding. But then, hey! Look at you!" he gestured toward me, trying to emphasize how I looked.

I do not have classes that require me to be in business attire today. So this morning, I chose to wear a dark gray tee, faded jeans, and a pair of high-cut sneakers. I let my hair down as it was still wet from the shower earlier. Now I am sure that my hair is everywhere. I grabbed the pony on my wrist, combed my hair with my hand, and tied it in a messy bun.

"Why don't you just say I am not as attractive?" I moved my hand from Vea to Camille to stress that I didn't look cute like my friends.

Tim snorted, "You know that's not what I mean." He took a bite from my plate. "Is it just me or are you just being too sensitive?" He nodded with his brows and then nudged my arm.

Vea and Camille continued chatting about 'the great' Ashton Greene while I decided to finish my meal. I allowed the girls to tell Tim about my embarrassing love confession to Ashton Greene. I cut them to react until my thoughts drifted back to that day, six years ago.