Four Brothers and a Bride

Chapter 19: Chapter 19

ASHTON

I haven't had a woman knock the breath out of me with a simple kiss in a minute. I would never in a million years have expected such a stimulating kiss to come from Demi. If she was thinking about Ashely when she went for it, then she must have fallen hard for him. To be frank, I am surprised she managed to hold out this long. He's too charming for the ladies to resist.

Demi's cheeks go from a deep red blush to a stunned, ashy pallor as she stares from me to Ashley and then back to me. Her lips move but fail to form words. Shocked Demi is an amusing sight.

"A-Ashley? What? I thought..."

Ashley draws closer to us, reeking of a fragrant bath gel. "What are you doing in here?" His eyes dart from her embarrassed ones to my amused ones and a slight frown mars his facial muscles. "What happened?"

"I...um, I came looking for you. I wanted to apologize for earlier." She pokes a finger in my direction. "I thought he was you."

That's it? I wonder in my head, stifling a clawing need to chuckle. Damn. She'll make a terrible storyteller. How could she leave out the heart-racing, blood pumping, lip locking part?

"Well, that's the boring version." I tell Ashley, licking my lips to Demi's horror. She glares at my shamelessness and looks away. Ashley sighs.

"Ashton, could you give us a minute? Demi and I need to talk."

"Right. Was already heading out. Thanks for the car keys, Ash."

"Yeah, anytime. Have fun at your date." Ashley calls back to me. Before I close the door behind me, I lock eyes with Demi's shocked and slightly miffed ones.

My date is all the way across town. She's the first young lady who didn't cancel on me after I refused to play or be called Mr. Fantasy. Most women cancel because I wouldn't fulfil their weird fantasies.

Ever since I turned down Hannah's friend who happens to be Olivia, word spread amongst a small pool of spinsters in Danvarr. Hannah had the phone number I got for this purpose circulated and now I get random calls and desperate texts from women prepared to do anything for me to play myself or any of my brothers.

I kept turning them down but like they say, women just don't listen. Few days ago, I got a message from a young lady who calls herself Mila. What attracted me to her message was the way she addressed me; as Will and not Mr. Fantasy. She indicated an interest in going on a date with Will.

At first, I thought it was just a ruse to get me to respond to her message but then she sent one more message telling me to text her whenever I felt like hanging out with a stranger with no pressure. I thought it was cute of her to be so friendly to a person she had never met, to a man like Will.

So, tonight, Will is being introduced. I am hoping she finds me likeable. My appearance isn't significantly altered for this. Unlike the last time, I am rocking my natural, curly black hair, topped with some nerdy looking glasses. I think it's a good look for Will and silently hope it distracts from Ashton's sexual appeal. This is going to be a test. If all she wants to talk about is Ashton behind the glasses and not Will in front of her, I am walking away.

I park outside the diner and scan the area. Unlike the business and Alpha districts, this area is quaint and quiet. Very few business lights are turned on and fewer people are on a night stroll. I flick on the security mode of the car to prevent theft or vandalism before strolling, with my hands in my pocket, towards the diner.

The small diner is bathed in the yellow glow of light. Based on my view from the outside, two tired waiters are on their phones, chattering by the counter, possibly waiting for their three customers to wrap up and leave.

My eyes skip an old man and his teenage grandson to settle on the lady in a secluded booth. She frowns at her phone and grudgingly takes a sip of her drink. I check my wrist unit. I'm barely ten minutes late. What is it about my dates and them always being on a time crunch? Or better still, what is it about me and always being late? Right now, I don't know if it's an Ashton or a Will problem because both are perpetual latecomers. I push open the door and stride in.

face, their forced smiles become patronizing and flirty. I ignore their quick mutterings and long stares as I walk straight to my date who is already regarding me with a light of surprise. She's

you?" She says with a soft smile on her face.

think of a better excuse. Is

Masons Diner. What can I get you?" Her eyes remain trained on me. She flutters her thick lashes and

calls with a placid

and jeans go terribly well with my own plain clothes. A big, bucket hat hugs her head,

her and chuckles. "I

eyes drop to the menu. "Um..." The waiter makes no fuss while I struggle to make

just have two hamburgers, French fries and diet cokes." Mila smiles cheerily after the waiter leaves. "You don't get out much,

oddly satisfying, being without judgment. I find it strange how I can be so in control and overly confident as Ashton but

the waiter slipped her number under my dish. I ignore the note which lays it thick that I am as handsome as the Rollins quads and dig into my

mood by upsetting her. I just find it odd that she hasn't said anything about my uncanny resemblance to the Danvarr quads. The hair color and glasses aren't much of a disguise. Like the waiter, most women would have pointed that out by now which leads me to suspect that Mila's reason for holding back. It is highly

still lingers in my mind as

for tonight.

stare at each other for another testing moment before she stands on her toes and

Smiling at the coy look in her eyes, I lean down and kiss

to recall the fact that I am not wearing my wig or my dyed hair but just my natural black

Mila asks nervously. "I didn't mean to

explain or justify my reaction. I just hope she can overlook it. I help her hail a cab, kiss her forehead goodnight and watch the car drive off. I linger on the road for a while with

on the Danvarr quads in hopes of steering the conversation towards my looks. I wanted to ask her but the fear of her

Ashton, the blonde is more pressure than most people think, from father's demands of perfection to sustain the company and family's image to keeping up with quad rules. Hence, it feels liberating to just walk on the street, under

"Ashton?"

around coming face to face with a

in a cab less than five minutes ago. But then there's the crazy part. Did she just

not a

regret it." I warn her with a death stare. "What's behind you?

the blonde wig and

her tracks at the burning look I give her. I don't know what the fuck is going on. Who the fuck is she and how the hell can she tell exactly which quad I am. Rather than demand answers, I slide into my

taps on the window. "It's not what you think. I can explain

spinning as I back off from the curb and swing the car onto the

of the car, cussing. I can't believe she played me or whatever it is that was. I

are scary layers to her that I am not ready to face. The wig is one thing but knowing my real identity with pinpoint accuracy and contacting me through a very private channel is a whole different level of stalking. I have a million questions but I need time to recover from

car is dusty with a shallow dent due to my rough driving and bumping it into a lamp post. I pause to take a few

the rearview mirror. I grab my blond wig from the pigeonhole and put it on. Then I dig around for my discarded phone at the back seat and slip it into my back pocket before going