Chapter 16 (Asher)
I slide a glass of juice over the coffee table along with a sandwich.
“This is the third glass of OJ you've given me. I'm fine.”
I cross my arms and stare him down.
He rolls his eyes and reluctantly takes a sip.
I sweep my gaze around the room, taking it in. There's a couch, coffee table, and television—but there's also a queen-sized bed and a bookshelf located behind the couch.
“This place is pretty big for a studio apartment.”
He takes a bite of his sandwich. “That's because it's a one bedroom.”
I gesture to the couch that's at the foot of the bed and he laughs. “I use the room as my music studio instead of a bedroom.”
I sit down next to him and pick up my own sandwich. “That explains why you don't dorm on campus.”
“Yeah, I dormed my first year and it was horrible.” He gives a shake of his head. “My roommate was an engineering major and hated any type of noise. He would hardly even speak, and whenever he did it was in hushed monotones.” He points to his right ear. “I'm partially deaf in this ear so you can imagine how annoying it was for me.”
I nod, surprised at how candid he's being with me now. “Guy sounds like a ball of fun.”
“Yeah.” His mouth tightens. “I've had diabetes since I was 12. I don't tell a lot of people about it.”
“Why?”
He looks at the small pile of books on the coffee table. “I'll tell you what—Answer a few questions on Romeo and Juliet and I'll tell you everything you want to know about me.”
“Seriously? It's Friday night. Only nerds study on the weekends.”
He glares at me and picks up a book. “I'll start you off easy, asshole. What's Romeo's best friend's name?”
“Mercutio,” I answer, suddenly thankful I read the first few chapters of the cliff notes.
He looks surprised. “Correct. Okay, shoot.”
“What's your favorite instrument?”
“Although I love the guitar—the piano is my first love.” He sits up straight and focuses on his book again. “Who's responsible for their deaths?”
“You're kidding me, right? They took their own lives; therefore, they are.”
He slams his book shut. “Wrong. The correct answer is Friar Lawrence. I mean, sure Juliet and Romeo physically took their own lives, but it was the result of the actions; or rather in-actions of the Friar.”
“How the hell do you figure that? Friar Lawrence was trying to do what was best for everyone.”
“He dropped the ball, multiple times. Not only did he not deliver an important letter himself, he kept their secret. He should have told someone the truth.”
“Maybe he couldn't,” I yell and Landon makes a face. “Maybe he had a good reason for not telling someone...maybe he was being threatened by outside forces.”
“What? Where the hell do you get that from? There's absolutely nothing to suggest that—”
I stand up. “Just because the book doesn't say it, it doesn't mean it's not a possibility.”
His brows furrow. “Mrs. Sterling isn't going to like that answer. In fact, she's of the mindset that the Friar intentionally messed everything up after giving Juliet the potion so that they would die and both families would stop feuding.”
“That's pretty fucked up.”
He shrugs. “It is but it's the only motive that makes sense if you think about it.”
“Okay, but how was he so certain it would work and they would kill themselves?”
“Easy—Love. I know you're not familiar with the concept, but love makes you crazy and irrational. Especially when you're a teenager.”
I snort, the hollow ache in my chest almost becoming unbearable. “Trust me, I get it.”
His eyes dart to mine. “You've been in love before?”
I close my eyes. “Unless they've invented a word that's deeper than love...yes.”
He looks shocked. “Damn, I would have never guessed.”
“High school sweetheart,” I murmur. “Met her in 10th grade when I was new in town. It felt like someone clubbed me over the head with a bat made of steel...it was that intense.” I draw in a deep breath. “Can't even say her name out loud without feeling like I'm suffocating.”
“I guess that means you're not going to tell me what happened.”
I glare at him. “What the fuck do you think happened?”
He swallows visibly. “She—shit. She couldn't accept you.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah, but that's only part of it. I fucked up...badly. I kept things from her that I should have told her about before they escalated.”
“What kinds of things?”
“I—Only Preston knows the truth.”
“Truth about what?”
“That video you watched? I didn't consent to it. What you saw was the tail end of me basically being molested while I was sleeping.”
“Holy shit. Why didn't you press charges?”
A lump fills my throat. “To make a long story short, I was blackmailed. I haven't spoken to my father since the video went viral but he owns a popular football team and he's loaded. It's complicated, Landon. The guy basically threatened me with the video and a naked picture of my girlfriend. I had no choice but to play along and do whatever he wanted.”
“That's fucking horrible.” He runs a hand down his face. “So you're not—”
“I am. But I didn't come to that conclusion on my own.
“I'm confused—”
I snort. “Yeah me too. And so was he. I thought the blackmail was all about the money and control at first, even his sob story about his own dad that he told me, but it turns out it was more about his obsession with me. It's weird to explain...but I figured out that just because I didn't like the dick attached to the things he was doing...it didn't mean I didn't like the body part. Understand?”
“Sort of. I mean I'm not...I don't have those feelings, but I guess I can understand.” He frowns. “But I'm guessing she didn't. Not even after you told her you were being blackmailed?”
“I never got to tell her that part. I decided to tell her the truth about the feelings I was having first—she didn't handle it too well.” I stand up again, because I don't have the stomach or the heart to get into the rest of it with him. “I don't want to talk about her anymore. I can't.”
I think about how much I fucked up with Breslin all the time. It eats at me day in and day out. I don't need to lay it all out for him just so he can tell me how much of an asshole I am.
I'm already well aware. The broken thing in my chest is my glaring reminder.
“I get it,” he whispers. “We don't have to talk about her.” He scans me intently. “Is the blackmail connected to your situation with Dragoni though? And what about Coach Crane? Does he know about this?”
“No, he doesn't and you can't tell him. And the former blackmail has nothing to do with this. The situation with Dragoni is all thanks to my brother Preston and his gambling problem.”
His eyes look like they're about to pop out of his head. “Dragoni is a bookie?”
“Yup...well his family is. They're also connected to the mob.”
His mouth falls open. “No shit.”
“No shit.”
He stands up and starts pacing. “But...how? Why?”
“I'll tell you on one condition.”
“What?”
“Tell me about you.”
He takes a breath and rubs his jaw. “I have a 10-year-old little sister. My parents are still married...sometimes happily, sometimes not. I—” Frustration fills his voice. “Education isn't what I want to do with my life, but my parents who are both teachers keep pushing for it.” His eyes widen. “Not that I don't like teaching. I enjoy helping people...but—”
“Music is the love of your life.”
His brown eyes practically twinkle. “Yeah...God it's—I've never felt more like me than when I'm in the studio making music or playing in front of a crowd.”
More questions ping around the walls of my skull, but none of them seem to matter because there's only one thing I'm focused on now.
“Play something for me?”
One of his eyebrows go up slightly. “You mean like right now?”
“No time like the present.”
He rocks back and forth on his heels before he waves a hand and gestures for me to follow him. “What's your poison?”
“Huh—” My words fall from my lips when I enter the room. I'm not really into music, although I do enjoy it on occasion, but you'd have to be blind not to appreciate the dedication that he clearly has for it.
There's a small, black baby grand piano in the middle of the room and various instruments either hung up or placed on shelves. There's also computers, speakers, and microphones all over. I can't even imagine how much time it took to put it all together.
I notice a bean bag chair in the far corner of the room and plop down. “Play me anything you want.”
He rubs the back of his neck, I've never seen him look so nervous. “Well usually the first time I play for someone I ask them what their favorite band is so I can get a feel for what kind of music they like to hear.”
“I usually listen to upbeat dance music while I workout—” Memories roll through me and I think back to the band I used to listen to in high school. “But my favorite band is Bush.”
A grin curls the corners of his lips and my ears get hot. He looks so fucking sexy when he smiles at me like that.
“I think I might have misjudged you after all.” He picks up a guitar and sits down on a stool. “You have really great taste in music…which tells me a hell of a lot about you.”
Before I can come back with a smart ass reply, he starts strumming and I recognize the first few bars of Comedown. He closes his eyes, the former nervousness he once exhibited is long gone.
I sit back and relax, enjoying the performance.
Until he opens his mouth and sings...and I'm fucking gone.
The low and husky timbre of his voice sends shock waves through my system of the very best kind.
I can't help but notice the way his deft fingers strum with precision, the subtle tap of his foot keeping in time to the song, and the hypnotic energy coming off him in waves. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand up and my stomach somersaults, because the spell Landon's got me under is now airtight. There's absolutely nothing in this world that could break my focus from him.
When his eyes flit to mine, my heart speeds up.
He's utterly captivating and the weightiness of this moment catches me by the throat.
The song ends and a part of me aches at the loss. I point to the piano. “I need more.”
I expect him to give me shit, but he doesn't. When he sits at the piano and his fingers graze those keys, I swear to God, the fucking organ in my rib cage beats like a jackhammer.
His muscles go slack and he closes his eyes, right before a feathery, yet deep, bell-like melody fills the room.
It's different from the guitar obviously, and he doesn't sing along to this tune, but it's no less mesmerizing.
He opens his eyes again, and this time they're trained on me. I can feel my Adam's apple bob against my throat and something inside my chest shifts. The air in the room becomes even more charged with every second that passes between us.
Landon has to know I'm into him, there's no way he can't at this point.
But that's not the cause of my current sweaty palms and racing heart...it's the fact that maybe...just maybe.
He might be into me too.
I open my eyes, look around, and grunt. I can't believe I fell asleep not only in his apartment, but in his music studio last night.
I glance down and laugh when I notice the blanket that's covering me.
Stifling a yawn, I get up and stretch before I pad back down the hallway that leads to his living room/ bedroom.
And I freeze.
Because white hot lust rushes into me like a damn tsunami as I take in a still sleeping and boxer clad Landon in his bed.
I figured he'd be on the lanky side...but I was wrong. Because even though he doesn't have an eight pack like me, his body is toned, cut, and defined.
But that's not what has my blood traveling south at warped speed.
It's the black ink taking up a majority of his back and upper arms.
Holy hell.
Not only are his tattoo's unexpected...they're sexy as fuck.
I study the large music staff and notes in the center of his back and the small print scrawled underneath that reads, 'Some pursue happiness, others create it.' One of his arms is stuffed under a pillow so I can only see his right bicep which has a tattoo of a 3D guitar on it. However, I'd bet my next three paychecks from coach that his other arm has a piano keyboard on it.
He shifts slightly and I notice another music note, a much smaller one; behind his right ear. I quickly recall what he told me about his hearing impairment last night and my chest tightens.
Jesus...this guy.
This guy is going to be my downfall. Hell, this guy already is my downfall.
I haven't felt this way about another person since...
Terror clenches my heart and I force myself to breathe. I'm two seconds away from grabbing my shit and leaving, but then my eyes catch on something else when he shifts again.
I swallow hard as I stare at the smooth, pink tip of his morning wood that's currently peeking out of the waistband of his boxers.
My entire body stills, too afraid to make any sudden movements out of fear that what I'm looking at will disappear.
My heart pounds in my ears as I watch it grow bigger right before my very eyes. I silently pray to the God of bisexual men with crushes on their tutor's that his boxers slip a bit more so I can see all of him.
My own dick strains against my zipper, and I can't help but think about what would happen if I took the few short strides over to him and licked that glistening head of his that's taunting me.
Would he moan and urge me on? Would he groan my name and beg me to take him deeper?
I practically whimper when his hand wraps around his length and he gives his thick cock one long, agonizing, jerk through the fabric of his boxers.
I take a step closer to the bed but stop myself as reality comes crashing down all around me. A sharp pain infiltrates my chest, the impact knocking the air from my lungs.
Landon's not like me. He's made that perfectly clear already.
He shifts again and there's no way he's not going to wake up in the next minute and see me standing over him all but salivating at the sight of his dick.
I feel around my pockets for my phone and I high tail it the fuck out of there.
I do it just in time, because a moment after I close the door behind me, my phone rings.
“What's up, Preston?”
“Hey—” He pauses. “Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt your workout.”
“I wasn't working out. I was—” I press the button for the elevator. “Never mind, it doesn't matter.”
The depressing tilt of my voice must give me away because he says, “Like hell it doesn't, Asher. I called you to see how everything was going at Woodside and if you needed anything, but right now it doesn't sound like things are going too well. What's up?”
“Trust me, you don't want to know.”
“Try me.”
“I think I'm falling for my tutor.”
“Is she hot like the last one?”
“Hotter...only she's a he.”
“Huh?”
“It's a guy,” I grind out as the elevator doors open.
I can hear his laughter on the other line before he says. “About damn time.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Look, brother. I've been by your side since the day you came out to me...but you've never really been out. You know what I mean?”
“Not really.” I think about his statement. “I fuck plenty of guys.”
He sighs. “Yeah, you fuck them. That's about it. You've never dated any of them.”
“I—”
“I know,” he interjects. “Kyle really fucked you up, Asher. I get it.” He draws in a breath. “And if you like this guy, don't let him fuck this up for you either. You deserve to be happy.”
Lead settles in my stomach. “There's only one problem with that.”
“What?”
“He's not—” I step off the elevator and start the walk back to campus. “He's not into guys. At least I'm pretty sure he's not.”
There's silence on the other line before he says, “Pretty sure isn't a guarantee. Do you get any vibes from him?”
“Not really. I mean...I didn't until last night.”
“You could just come out and ask him. Maybe not ask him if he's into you outright, but ask him if he's ever hooked up with another guy and enjoyed it,” he suggests and I inwardly groan.
“Why so it can make the rest of the year weird between us when he says no?”
“You won't know until you try, Asher. Make a move on him. Show your cards. What's the worst that can happen? It's no different from when you dated Breslin.”
“I didn't have to try or wonder with Breslin, asshole,” I growl, hating the fact that he brought her up. “I mean yeah, I had to work at keeping her once I had her, but us falling for one another was the easy part. The attraction and spark between us was instant for the both of us, no question.”
I hear some crashing sound in the background before he yells, “Shit, I gotta go. My roommate and his girlfriend are arguing again.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah.” He sighs. “I can't wait until Becca gets back from her trip. This way, I can find us a place off campus and I don't have to deal with this crap anymore.”
I stop walking. “What? You're seriously considering moving in with her? For Christ's sake, Preston, not only is she connected to the family who's threatening your family as collateral—her family is a bunch of bookies and mobsters. She's literally the worst girl for you to date.”
“I get your reservations, but I told you I was serious about her.” There's another crashing sound, louder this time. “Look, I have to go. We'll talk about this later,” he says before the line goes dead.
I jog up the steps to the campus dorms, my head buzzing a mile a minute. I feel like my problems are piling up by the second since I've been here.
But maybe...Preston has a point. Maybe I should make a move on Landon.
Why so he can turn you down?— my mind taunts.
Fear skitters down my spine again. Making a move on Landon would be the stupidest thing I could do.
Not only do I not date— guys or girls for that matter. But it would ruin the friendship between us, in addition to making things awkward as hell once he declined. Because there's no doubt in my mind that he would.
I just need to find something to occupy my time so I can forget about the stupid crush I have on him, because that's exactly what it is. He's nothing more than an itch I want to scratch.
Or maybe you're just scared because of how things ended with the last person you fell for.
“Hey,” a breathy voice behind me says, interrupting my thoughts.
I spin around and come face to face with the blonde from the night before. O'Connor's girlfriend. “Hey. Listen do you have a key for the building? I forgot mine upstairs and I need to get ahold of the RA.”
“Sure. I think he's out of the building right now, but you're welcome to wait in my room.” I don't miss the underlying meaning in her words.
I let my gaze roam over her tits and long legs. She wasn't a ten in the sack, but maybe she'll be better with her mouth. Either way, she's certainly one hell of a distraction.
My phone vibrates and Landon's name lights up the screen. I focus on the way her ass sways when she steps forward and opens the door.
Pressing ignore, I give the blonde a smile. “Lead the way.”