Impossible by Komal Lewis

Maybe it was about time I started nudging her in Riley’s direction.
    It wasn’t that I didn’t respect Stace. I did, a great deal, but I wasn’t looking for a serious relationship. Stace was simply a friend with benefits, but that didn’t mean every girl would be like that for me. Stace just wasn’t the right girl.
    Once Stace was gone, I went into the kitchen and splashed my face with cold water. My hands gripped the edge of the sink as I stared out the window at the Summers’ front yard. Ms. Summers’ car wasn’t out front, which was unusual since she worked from home and didn’t get out too much. The light was on in Ash’s room so she must be home by herself.
    As I drummed my fingers on the cool metal of the sink, my eyes fell on the container of flour we’d borrowed from the Summers’. Momma hadn’t returned it yet which meant I had an excuse to drop by Ash’s house.
    Okay, why the hell did I want to drop by her house for? She’d made it perfectly clear she didn’t want anything to do with me, so why did I want to go over there and return the stupid container of flour?
    Because I wanted to make sure she was okay. She’d had a rough week, and I didn’t want her to be depressed over it. What if she did something stupid like try and kill herself? Girls got really angsty about these kinds of things.
    Without delaying another second, I grabbed the container and headed out the door. The cool air sent a chill through me and I regretted not putting on another layer of clothing. It didn’t really matter though—Ash would probably tell me to get lost and I’d be back in my warm house within seconds. I didn’t expect anything more from her.
    In the light cast by the streetlamp, I frowned at the height of the grass. They still hadn’t gotten someone to cut the damn thing. I suppose Ash’s mom was in a similar state of mind to Momma’s. Her husband hadn’t died, but she’d still suffered from a bad marriage.
    I hesitated on their front porch and, honestly considered bolting, when the door opened. Ashton leaned against the doorframe with a hand on her hip, and everything I’d planned on saying to her escaped me.
    My mind registered a complete blank when I took in her appearance. She was wearing a pair of ridiculously tiny shorts that showed off so much of her smooth skin. Her top cropped off midway leaving her flat stomach bare. My pulse sped up as I tried not to stare—really tried—but it was impossible. I mean, who was she trying to impress at this hour?
    “Are you giving that back?” she asked.
    “What?” My mind couldn’t make sense of what she was saying.
    Ash pointed to the container in my hand. “The flour. Are you giving it back?”
    I stared down at my hands and realized I was gripping the container so hard that my knuckles were turning white. My hold slackened and the color rushed back into my hands. “Yeah, uh, here.” I passed her the container and then resumed my staring.
    Shit! What was wrong with me? I was making it so fucking obvious, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. “Aren’t you cold?” No. Those words couldn’t possibly have come from my mouth. There was no way I could be that moronic, could I? Did I really need to make it any more obvious that I was checking her out?
    Ashton raised an eyebrow at me, her face amused. “No, I was doing some stretches, so…” Her voice trailed off, but my mind was already full of dirty images of Ash stretching. Damn. As if I needed another excuse to fantasize about her.
    There was an awkward silence that stretched on until Ash cleared her throat. “Was there something else?”
    “Are you okay?” I blurted out and then felt like a total loser when she raised an eyebrow. “I mean, after breaking your detention virginity.” Shit. That hadn’t come out the way I’d wanted it to. Instead of sounding concerned, I’d come across like I was gloating.
    Ash’s face darkened. “Luca, I can’t make this any clearer. I have no