ash-bordenâ:
Ash snorted in response to the question because they both knew he wore his disdain on his sleeve along with everything else. Ash wasnât a moral person but he was unwillingly honest, his emotions yanking him around as badly as they did everyone else within his reach.Â
His customary scowl returned when Max spoke again. Ash didnât need reminding of his inability to skillfully execute subterfuge. âCanât.â He stated simply when Max mentioned the money that heâd taken. Ash lifted the drink to his lips, bracing himself for the potential for it to be spiked. It turned out to either be virgin or dangerously disguised as such, prompting Ash to tip his head back further as he drank.Â
He lowered the glass, glaring at Max over the rim of it for a moment before he spoke up again. âThe money is already allocated. Itâs outside of my reach here.â He gestured towards the ship around them, the ice in his glass clinking as it settled again. He wasnât about to get into it over who had stolen from who, certain that an argument over it wouldnât get him any closer to Wyatt Hartman. âIâm sure there are things you want more than that, though.â He countered, reaching for the tray of shots and plucking one of them between his fingers. It was risky business betting on Maxâs tongue being loosened by booze when Ash himself was such a lightweight, but Max was several shots ahead of him and Ash was desperate.Â
Resolutely ignoring any flashbacks that he was having of Maxâs bachelor party, Ash placed the shot in Maxâs hand and reached for the other for himself. âTo your marriage.â He couldnât help the shitty smirk that flashed across his features before he leaned back on the railing to take the shot, quickly chasing it with the Sprite in his glass. âDid my sister take your name? I donât know if I should be appalled at the idiocy or relieved that I donât have to share a name with that stupid bitch any more.â He shrugged and dropped the empty shot glass overboard before pushing away from the railing, nodding for Max to follow him. âLetâs go.â He commanded without checking to see whether or not Max was complying, stomping in the direction of the poolside bar on the other side of the ship. Ash could already feel the alcohol loosening his joints and warming him from the inside out, resisting the desire to untuck his shirt. âDid you at least bone before you took off?â He asked over his shoulder, denying to himself that he genuinely wished Max hadnât.Â
Wyatt both couldn't and wouldn't believe Ash's excuse that he wasnât able to access his funds, unwilling to be duped so transparently. Even if it were true, he planned on getting that money back. But the line of thought didn't last very long, diverted by Ash plucking up a shot of Patron. He accepted the drink without hesitation, grin widening as he studied the forced calm etched into the otherâs face. âTo my marriage,â he echoed cheerfully before swallowing the shot. He looked pleased by the rude remarks made about his wife (ex-wife?), or perhaps it was simply the fact that Ash expressed interest at all.
âWe talked about it, but Iâm not sure if the paperwork went through,â Wyatt mused. He never particularly cared either way; he supposed leaving a trail of women with the surnames of his aliases was poetic, but the likelihood of getting caught that way wasnât worth his desire for aesthetic irony. Looking intrigued as he was directed further down the ship, he abandoned the empty tray on the railing and followed with his boozy syrup in tow. At the salacious question, Wyatt nearly choked on his drink with a laugh, looking caught between gleeful and smug.
âYour tone implies disgust, but the content and frequency of your questions about my sex life say something entirely different.â He swanned in closer, just enough so that their shoulders brushed as they walked. âAnd just so weâre clear--â He shot Ash an amused look, âAre you suggesting that your sister and I abstained from premarital sex, or do you just want to know if we consummated?â


















