Ashton was coming over here. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to her. I was still pissed off at her for inviting those girls over to my house and for her obsession with wanting to be popular. Couldn’t she see that she was fine the way she was? She didn’t need some stupid title to define herself. She just needed to stop worrying about what everyone else thought of her. Moving away from the kitchen window, I stood in the center of the kitchen with clenched fists. I’d seen everything I needed to see. That ass wipe, Oliver, had driven her home. I bet she’d enjoyed every second of that. I mean, I’d been so damn angry at her for pushing me away, that’s why I’d ignored her all day and driven off without her. Even though we’d really connected yesterday, she was still focused on all this meaningless crap. I thought things were going to change between us, but she still had her walls up—she still wanted distance from me.
