The Best Mistake

"We are not together, mom! We're hardly friends!" I explained to my mom for what seemed like the hundredth time. Jenn had seen the look on my mom's face when we got into the kitchen and made up an excuse to leave. My mother could get scary when she wanted to; and she's always preached to me about being classy and not getting around. So to come home to find out a boy slept over? Let's just say she jumped to some conclusions.

"Oh yeah?" she asked, looking at me disbelievingly. "Then why'd he kiss you before he left?"

I snorted. That kiss was nothing compared to the first couple of ones, I wanted to say. But of course, I didn't. "He saw you standing there watching us! He did it to be a prick," I told her.

"Watch your language, Ashlyn."

"Prick isn't a bad word," I informed her. "Actually, a prick is-"

"I know what a prick is, just stop saying it!" she said, holding a hand up to me.

"Mommy, what's a prick?" Alex said, looking at my mom with a confused look. I chuckled; I didn't even notice him walk in.

My mom sighed exasperatedly. "Nothing, honey. Go find daddy, I need to talk to Ashlyn alone," she said.

"Okay," he said, before running off screaming, "Daddy! You're a prick!"

My mom glared at me, which made me put my hands up in surrender. "Hey, he didn't hear me say it," I defended.

"No more boys here without my permission," she said. "I don't care if they're your friend or boyfriend. Whether they're straight, gay, bisexual, necrophiliac-"

"Necrophiliac? That's disgusting, mom," I told her, rolling my eyes. "And that doesn't even make sense with what you said."

"Yes it does, because it means he's attracted to dead people and you're alive, so he clearly wouldn't be attracted to you," she said, matter-of-factly.

"Fine, fine!" I said. "If this conversation is over and I can walk away without being any more scarred than I already am, I promise I will never bring a boy over without permission."

"Good girl," she said. "Now, is there a chance you could be pregnant?"



It's been a week since that lovely conversation with my mother, which finally ended after I took three pregnancy tests, proving that I was- indeed- not pregnant. Not much had happened this passed week, either. Nash had come over every single night since then, and he'd sleep over. I had to set my alarm for six in the morning so I could sneak him out without anybody seeing, but it'd been worth it. I realized I was getting way too attached- not only was it too fast but just the simple fact I was getting so attached to Nash Carter was a disaster waiting to happen. We hadn't done anything more than just a couple kisses here and there, either- the intense make out sessions seemed to only happen when he was angry.

Currently, it was nine o'clock at night and I was trying to convince Nash to skip some fight he had scheduled tonight and stay here with me. "Come on, please?" I asked him, frowning as I held on tightly to his wrist.

Nash sighed, his bangs flying away from his forehead momentarily. It might've been an adorable thing to see, had Nash not been as annoyed as he was. "Ash, you sound pathetic," he told me, trying to move his wrist out of my grip. I was holding on as tightly as I could, but I knew if he really wanted to, he would be free from my grasp in a matter of seconds. "I've slept here everyday the passed week, one night won't kill you."

"But I sleep better when you're here," I said to him. I knew with every word I said that I just sounded more and more pathetic and needy, but I couldn't help it.

Nash chuckled. "You've really gotta death wish, don't you, princess?" he asked, causing me to frown and let go of his wrist, taking a step back. He sighed again, running a hand through his hair. "Ashlyn." I only looked away, crossing my arms.

"You wanna leave so bad? Go," I said nonchalantly.

He mumbled under his breath before stepping close to me, his hands cupping my cheeks and forcing me to meet his eyes. He rested his forehead against mine, chewing on his bottom lip and holding my gaze while he thought. He finally spoke in a soft voice. "I sleep better when I'm near you too, which I didn't think was possible. But I've really gotta go, okay?"

"I'm just worried about you," I said so quietly I questioned whether he heard me.

But when Nash chuckled humorlessly, I knew he had. "Don't be, princess. Seriously, I can handle myself," he said. But that still didn't make me feel any better. "Look, if you want, I can come back here afterward."

"You'd do that?" I asked, causing him to nod slightly. "You promise?"

He chuckled. "I promise, princess," he said, leaning forward and lightly brushing his lips against mine, before pulling away from me completely.

I didn't know whether I completely believed him or not, but out of everything he is, he'd never really given me a reason to believe he's a liar. So I just nodded as he pulled his shoes on and went over to the window, opening it. I stopped him when I saw something on my bed. "Wait!" I said, as he had one leg out the window. He looked at me with an eyebrow raised. "You almost left your hat, here." I picked it up and brought it over to him, holding it out.

He stared down at my hand for a couple seconds, before looking up at me with a half smile. "Keep it here while I'm gone," he said. "I'd never leave that hat with no intention of getting it back, so you'll know that I'm definitely coming back."

I couldn't figure out what was so special about his hat- it was just black, no designs or anything- but I didn't question it. Besides, the simple fact that while most of the time his clothes were a little dirty and his shoes looks like they were ready to fall apart, that hat never had a spec of dirt on it. Ever. But I couldn't help but grin. "Okay, I'll keep it safe," I said in a teasing voice.

I saw him wink at me, before he threw the other leg out of my window and was gone. I made a mental note to ask him how he was even able to get in and out through the window, too, because I've stared at the front of my house a couple times recently- trying to figure out how he did it- but I couldn't.

I grinned, setting the hat down on my nightstand. Nash Carter sure was something else, that was for sure.