"You alright?"
His voice snapped me out of my mental spiral.
"What?" I blinked at him, my brain still buffering.
Ashton gave me a quick side glance. "Earlier. At the hospital. Did he... hurt you?"
"You mean Rhys?" I said. "No."
Technically true.
Not for lack of trying, though.
Rhys practically lived at the gym, probably had protein shakes for blood. If he'd landed a hit, I'd have been scraping bits of myself off the floor with a dustpan.
I added, softer this time, "Thank you."
He didn't say "you're welcome."
Instead, his grip on the steering wheel went full Incredible Hulk—veins popping as if they were auditioning for a fitness ad.
I stared.
Was he angry? At me? At Rhys?
"That was your ex-fiancé?" he finally asked, voice low.
"Yeah."
He looked
