I panicked.
I shouldn’t have called Ashton over something as small as my hair. If I kept dragging him into every little problem, he was going to stop taking me seriously—and start treating me the way Zeke did.
The door flew open, but I didn’t even bother looking up. Too many women had walked in and out already, and with each one, it felt more and more like Ashton wasn’t coming. A part of me believed he wouldn’t, but the sweet reassurance in his voice when we spoke made me think otherwise. It made me feel like even the small things, like my hair, mattered.
Frantic footsteps approached, and I finally raised my head. I was expecting Laila. Instead, I saw Ashton—and I couldn’t stop the small smile that crept onto my face.
He looked worried and tired, like he had just run a two-hour maratho
