Ashley Pick Up Line Novels & Stories

“If I’ve been here for days, she must have been trying to reach me.” He didn’t hesitate. He pulled out his phone and handed it to me without a word, unlocking it first and watching me closely. With trembling fingers, I typed in her number….every digit etched into my heart from years of shared secrets and late-night conversations. The phone rang once… then again… and again. Please pick up, Ashley. Finally, her voice came through. “Hello…?” “Ashley,” I whispered. There was a pause. Then her voice cracked. “Big sis?”

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She ignored it. Then it buzzed again. She pulled it out and looked at the screen. Caleb. She stared at it for a second too long. Then she pressed decline and put the phone face-down on her thigh. Ashley looked at her sideways. The phone buzzed again. Caleb. She declined it again and this time kept her hand flat over the screen. "Nora." Ashley's voice was low, meant only for her. "Pick it up." "Not yet."

"So how was the sex? Is it true what they say about middle-aged men?" Again, my food passes down the wrong way, and I start coughing. My face is going red. "You have got to quit that act." Ashley is patting down my back again, offering me water and smiling like a Cheshire cat at me. "Fuck off." I mutter, my voice has gone raw from the coughing. "Tell me tell me tell meee." She whines in a singsong tone. I roll my eyes at her and she just continues in a high pitched tone. I want to throttle her.

I wanted to push him away so badly. "Alpha," I whispered, my hands on his chest. "What are you doing?" "I'm showing you how much I want you," he growled, his mouth trailing down her neck. I felt a shiver run down her spine. I knew again that I should push him away, but my body seemed to have a mind of its own right now. What are you doing, Ashley? You shouldn't be doing this. "Alpha, please," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Alison exclaimed, reaching out to hug Ashley. My mind fleeted back to my mate, I shook my head, refusing to make this moment about me, “Who is the lucky guy? When do we get to meet him?” I fired questions at Ashley. She chuckled while taking a sip of her lemonade, “I actually haven’t met him yet. I’ve only perceived his scent in the hallways which are always full of students,” Ashley said, her eyebrows pulled down as she stirred the lemonade with her straw playing around with the ice.

Her steps were fast, thinking that her son was sad and alone in that big and cold mansion. “Where to go, Ma’am?” asked the taxi driver. “To XXXX Hills, please.” While saying so, Ashley called Harold. It took five rings before he answered her call. Her patience was growing thin. “He—” Ashley cut Harold off. “Where’s your boss?” Harold paused. “…”

Lowering her eyes to the floor, the hatred she had bottled up within her surfaced in her eyes. Since the last thirty minutes after they arrived, Ashley had spent it pretending not to know them. "Can you elaborate on how she met you? Has there been any good time she had with either of you? Questions like that night help you." Cassie, who sat right beside Chanel, suggested. "We were your..." Chanel was saying when Ashley's phone rang. Without hesitation, Ashley took it out and frowned seeing the unknown number sprawled across the screen. Before she could answer it, the call ended and a text message came in.

As soon as he has completed his sentence, he rushes outside with the same speed with which he has entered the room, and I take the phone in my hand. By the time I notice that it is a new number, the call has already been missed. Without any delay, the phone starts to ring again. I answer the call this time without any second thought, knowing that this number of mine is only available to Mike, Stuart and his wife, Stella, along with the emergency contacts for Adrian. “Hello, Hazel speaking–” “Don't lie, Ash! I know you are Ashley! My Ashley.” ________

"Ashly?" "ASHLY?"

But if he's being honest, he still can't stop thinking about his dream, and how badly he wanted everything to be real. The phone vibrates again...and again and again. This pattern of messages and calls could only be one person. Alex answers the call with palms sweating. He clears his already dry throat before saying, "What do you want?" "Alex, can you help me? I need you to pick me up at my place," Ashly says, frantic. Confused, Alex asks, "I though you're going on a date? Why do I have to pick you up? Where's your car? Or your stupid Alpha bot going to pick you up"