Chapter 11 (Landon)
I watch her as she stirs in her sleep. The early morning sun is peeking through the small curtain—highlighting her long red hair, porcelain skin, and perfect curvy form.
Her brows draw together and her pouty mouth parts in a way that tells me that even when she's dreaming, she's still unsettled.
And I know I'm the reason for that.
I'm not the kind of man who hurts other people—especially those I love, and my heart plummets with the guilt and weight of the situation.
I've gone over things in my head non-stop, but I only seem to come back to one thought.
Trying to decide between them is a torture my heart can't bear.
And the only time I regret falling for one...is when I look at the other.
Making a decision and choosing one door over the other has never been my forte. Hell, it's probably why I'm a double major instead of pushing for music.
But unlike the situation with my education, I don't feel a pull guiding me more toward one of them. If I did, the decision would be easy instead of so fucking complicated.
But unfortunately for me, hell for all of us—both plowed into my heart with the same tenacity, jointly damaging me and making me feel whole in a way I didn't think was possible.
I never thought I'd find love with one person in this lifetime, let alone two.
Part of me wants to tell Breslin what Asher told me, but I don't, for two reasons.
One—it's not my place. The past is between them and as much as it hurts, I'm not part of that. Therefore, me opening that can of worms wouldn't be right. Plus, Breslin would assume I'm just taking Asher's side if I did. And as much as I get where he's coming from in regards to the past and can even empathize myself now given my feelings for him. It doesn't mean I can't understand where Breslin's coming from, or that I don't sympathize with the fact that she has every right to be hurt, angry, and upset over what happened.
For all intents and purposes—she believes she was cheated on and lied to. And no matter what struggles people may have with their sexuality...it doesn't excuse lying to those you love. And while the cheating is a gray area because he was blackmailed, him lying to her isn't something that even I can argue.
I watch as she shifts again on the bed and my heart slams against my ribcage.
The other reason for my silence? Is purely selfish.
I'm afraid of what will happen if Breslin forgives him. I'm afraid they’ll move on without me.
Breslin might say she hates him...but she couldn't be more wrong.
She's still in love with him. The kind of love that never goes away or fades.
The kind of love that makes me second place. In both their hearts.
Maybe if I was a better person, I'd let them both go, but I'm not sure that would do any of us any good at this point. Or maybe I'm just unclear about what point logic and reason overshadow love. Because love is winning...love wants me to find a way to fix all the shattered pieces.
Love wants me to find a way to heal the both of them.
I just don't know how to go about it without ripping my heart out in the process.
Then again, that's the thing about love...sometimes it fucking hurts.
But I love them both so I'm willing to sacrifice my own heart to fix theirs.
I just need to find a way to get Breslin on board without falling apart at the mention of it. I need to get her to the place where she trusts that I'll be there every step of the way and I won't let her pain suck her under.
And I need to get Asher to the point where he trusts me enough that his jealousy takes a backseat and he agrees to the ultimate sacrifice.
Sharing Breslin.
With me.
Something that I know first-hand won't be easy, given my own jealousy that stirs in my blood at the thought.
I don't want to watch either of them with someone that's not me.
But the more I mull it over...I honest to fucking God think it's the only solution at our disposal.
The only way in which we don't get hurt—after the initial first few blows that is. Because it's sure as fuck going to hurt like hell in the beginning. Just like a wound that has to scab over before it can begin mending.
But I think we deserve to mend, despite all the mistakes we've made along the way.
Hell, I think everyone deserves a chance to rectify errors in their life. Fix what they had a part in breaking.
Although there's guaranteed to be some bumps and bruises along the road to redemption.
“I wish I told you yes when you told me you'd wait for me while I was in Europe,” she whispers in her sleep and my heart crumbles.
I glance at my watch. I really need to be getting out of here before the students on the floor wake up and see a TA sneaking out of a dorm at 6 a.m., but I drop to my knees beside the bed anyway.
“We can't change the past, Breslin.” I bury my head against her stomach. “The only thing we can do is find a way to get passed it.”
Her eyes flutter open, glistening with unshed tears as she stares down at me. It's like another punch to the gut, seeing her wake up like this.
“I'm sorry,” I whisper, because it's all I can seem to say to her as of late. “But if you can find a way to trust me, I'll find a way to make this right again.”
Her hands comb through my hair and her chest rises on a deep inhale. “I don't see how.”
I push up her tank top and kiss a path along her navel. “Don't give up just yet.”
Concern pulls on her features. “You're shaking, Landon. When was the last time you ate something or checked your level?”
Now that she mentions it, I am a little woozy. “I guess I should get out of here.” I give her a grin. “You know, before I end up having you for breakfast.”
She bites her bottom lip and her nipples start to pebble underneath her shirt, and fuck me and the way my cock jerks at the sight.
I shift, intending to leave, but when I notice the damp spot on her little white panties and smell her arousal, I'm ready to pounce.
My conscience is gnawing at me, telling me this isn't right because I haven't put my plan into motion yet and things are so screwed up it's not even funny, but the voice silences when I hook a finger into her panties and move them to the side, uncovering that holy grail between her legs.
She's so pretty and open for me. Before I can stop myself, I glide my tongue along her slit, allowing myself a taste of her. Just a little something to take the edge off.
That damn inner voice of mine won't shut the hell up though, not even when I stab at her with my tongue, scooping her up like she's the best flavor on earth, because as far as I'm concerned, she is.
“Landon,” she breathes as she grips my hair.
My name on her lips brings me out of my haze and I pull back. It's not that I don't want her; I just don't want to complicate things even more and keep having sex with them both until I approach them with my idea.
I press a gentle kiss to her clit. “Can I take a rain check?”
Her mouth drops open and she looks at me like I'm insane, something I'm wondering myself because the amount of self-restraint it takes to walk away from her spread out for me like this...
I bite my knuckle and stand up, every cell in my body nearly weeping at the loss.
“I have to go before someone sees me coming out of your dorm.”
It's not a lie, the amount of trouble I could face is something I don't even want to think about.
Her face pales. “Yeah, you're right.” She fixes her panties. “See you later this afternoon, teach.”
There's a playful yet taunting bite to her tone and I sigh heavily as I close the door behind me, wanting nothing more than to jump back in bed and devour her to the point we forget anything and everything.
Like the 6'4-inch guy with piercing blue eyes and a beanie that's currently glaring at me like he's a nanosecond away from ripping my face off.
I thought the door next to Breslin's looked familiar, my thoughts were just in such a disarray last night I didn't really give it much thought.
Something I'm now regretting, because just like I don't want to hurt Breslin. I don't want to hurt Asher, either.
“It's not what you think,” I start to say before he lunges at me, backing me into the wall behind me.
My hands clench at my sides, ready to defend myself. “I came here to talk to her last night. Not have sex with her.”
He leans in close, his nostrils flaring. He still hasn't said a word, and I'm not sure whether or not to be thankful for it.
One thick arm lands on the wall beside my head and his eyes darken. I narrow mine in response and his jaw tics as he angles his head, getting close to my mouth.
Lust barrels into me, and despite me trying to fight the stubborn emotion and tell it that it's not a good time, it only grows stronger.
Especially when he slants his mouth over mine and sweeps his tongue inside. Something I soon realize is a mistake because he slams the wall beside my head and bites my lip so hard all I can taste is blood...instead of Breslin's pussy.
The fist that lands in the center of my chest before he pushes off me nearly brings me to my knees.
But it's nothing compared to the look on his face.
“Asher—”
His fist launches into his door so hard it vibrates. “Don't fucking talk to me.”
Two things happen at that moment.
One—Breslin's door opens and she gapes at Asher before she cries out, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
And two—Asher points to his door and growls, “I live here.” Before he focuses his attention to Kit and her girlfriend Becca walking up the steps and his eyes widen.
“You've got to be kidding me,” Breslin yells before she slams her door shut.
Asher shakes his head and grunts before his focus turns back to Kit and Becca and his eyes linger on their adjoining hands.
“What the actual fuck?” he hisses, his gaze now on Becca.
Kit's head circles, much like a snake ready to kill its prey, before she takes a step forward. “What the hell is your problem, asshole?”
Becca quickly pulls Kit back. “It's nothing, baby doll. We're just old friends.”
At that Asher snorts, the disgust more than evident on his face before he hikes his gym bag up his shoulder and strides past them.
Kit, ever the direct one, looks at Becca and says, “You fucked him. Didn't you? He's the reason you've been so distant over the last few weeks.”
I open my mouth to interject, because I'm positive Asher and Becca aren't fucking, but Becca shakes her head profusely. “I would never cheat on you.” She holds up her left hand and I can't help but notice a huge diamond on her ring finger. “This means everything to me.”
I side-step them, because this conversation is none of my business, especially when their mouths come together and I hear the sounds of them gasping for air.
I march down the steps, deciding to grab a quick shower and a change of clothes before I head over to the football field.
Because just like I needed to talk to Breslin last night. I need to talk to Asher and make things right again.
***
Nerves barrel into me as I watch him get sacked for the second time during practice. Neither his heart nor his head are in the game right now. Which is alarming to say the least given the first game of the season is exactly one week away.
Coach Crane throws his ball cap on the ground in frustration. I've never seen the man so angry before. My eyes go to Dragoni who's chewing his toothpick with enough vigor it's going to become dust soon. His eyes stay focused on Asher. Hell, they haven't left him since practice started.
I have to tell Breslin the real reason he's here.
My stomach curdles with that thought, because again, it's not my place to tell her. However, I'm sure she doesn't want him dead.
I swallow. Pretty sure.
Fuck, this situation is such a mess.
“Off my field, Holden,” Coach Crane shouts, loud enough that even I hear him all the way from my seat high up in the bleachers.
Everyone around him freezes as Asher takes off his helmet and throws it, looking so crushed, my own heart contracts.
Coach Crane walks over to him and grips him by the shoulder. He whispers something into his ear before he pats him on the back and Asher starts walking off.
Dragoni's eyes follow and when he stands up to go after him, I start walking down the bleachers. I'm not exactly sure what my plan is, but there's no way in hell I'm going to let him assault Asher again.
I quicken my steps when Dragoni disappears off the field.
And that's when Coach Crane's voice stops me in my tracks and he summons me over.
Every instinct in my body wants to tell him what's going on with his warped, mob-connected, assistant coach, but I can't—because it will lead to innocent people getting hurt. I'm in the worst catch-22 there is.
Correction—second worst.
“Wasn't aware you were a football fan,” he says, his jaw working back and forth.
“I'm not,” I start. “Asher has a test today so I figured we would catch up to study for a bit before class begins.”
I grip the back of my neck. I suddenly feel like I'm under interrogation.
He looks ahead, focusing on the players plowing into one another. “I think I'm going to request another tutor.”
It's on the tip of my tongue to defend myself, but I know better than to use the rope he's giving me to hang myself.
“Any reason why?” I ask, trying to remain unfazed.
That's when his eyes swivel to me. “He hasn't been in the right head space lately.”
I'm a coward, because I know I'm partly responsible for Asher's current state, but my immediate response is, “Really? I haven't noticed. But then again I've been sick this week and haven't had a chance to tutor or talk to him.”
Coach Crane looks surprised and my conscience punches me in the nuts.
Since when am I the type of person to lie to others? Just what kind of person am I turning into?
He looks sheepish. “I wasn't aware of that.” He clears his throat. “I apologize for putting the cart before the horse.”
I try hard not to correct that statement and give him a nod instead. “If it's all right with you, I really should be heading to the library.”
He waves me off and blows his whistle so loud I find myself grateful I'm partially deaf in one ear.
As soon as I'm out of eyesight, I start running toward the locker room.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I pass through the doors and see Asher sitting on a bench.
A sigh of relief that I choke on when he lifts his head and I see his shiny new black eye.
I spin around, my hands forming fists.
“He's gone,” Asher says gruffly. “Besides, there's nothing you can do about it anyway. Not unless you want to end up on the chopping block yourself.”
“Well, someone has to do something. He can't keep beating you—”
He snorts. “Trust me, I'm used to it.”
For a moment, I don't see the 21-year-old Asher Holden. I see the small boy that was beaten by his father and my heart sinks.
Lead fills my stomach. This can't keep happening, something's got to give.
He yanks me back the moment I reach the door. “No,” Asher bites out. “Do you want to get yourself killed?”
I pivot, facing him. “No, but I don't want you to die, either.”
“I've got it under control.”
“Do you?” I scoff and his eyes turn hard. “Because even me, someone who doesn't know a lick about football can tell you blew it out there.”
He stalks toward his locker and throws a t-shirt on. “Well pardon me, shit head. I guess I'm a little distracted by the fact that the guy I have feelings for is fucking the girl I'm in love with.”
“I didn't have sex with her last night.” It's a feeble attempt at defending myself because we both know that just a few hours prior, I did have sex with her.
Hell, the both of them.
Something which has to stop happening until I can talk to them about my plan.
He slams his locker shut so hard it rattles and barrels out of the locker room.
I hasten my footsteps to keep up with him. “Asher.”
When I reach out and touch his arm, he stills. “You know, I've always wanted to taste her. Hell, I used to dream about it and jerk off to it.” He shrugs. “Still do.” He turns to look at me. “But not one of my fantasies ever involved another guy.”
I bristle. “I—”
“No.” His eyes narrow. “Don't argue. Don't defend. Don't say anything, Landon. Because as far as I'm concerned...we are done. I can't do this with you anymore.”
He casts his eyes down. “I'm just not sure if it's because I'm heartbroken over you taking my girl.” His eyes connect with mine. “Or because I'm heartbroken that you chose the easy choice.”
He gestures between us. “But don't worry, bro, your little homo experiment is over for good. You get to have the white picket fence and the 2.5 kids.” He rubs his chest, almost as if it hurts. “Take care of her. Give her everything I couldn't.”
My heart stops when he takes a step away from me. This isn't supposed to be happening.
I don't think. I just act.
I shove him against the wall, and then I break another rule of mine, because I snatch his jaw and kiss him.
“Nothing about this is easy,” I say before I take his lips again. “Because my choice is the both of you.”
“Someone might catch us,” Asher whispers, but I shut him up with my mouth again.
When we finally break apart, I glare at him. “I don't give a shit who sees us.” I open my arms and circle the hallway. “I'm not afraid of my feelings for you. I'm—” I falter, trying to think of the right words to make him understand. “I don't know—accepting them.”
I grip his collar. “What I'm afraid of is losing the two people I love.”
He gives me a long stare. “Take it from me—you can't have your cake and eat it too.”
“I know.” I meet his gaze. “I just need you to put your trust in me while I sort everything out.”
He gives me a strange look before he shrugs. “Fine. But the longer this goes on, the harder it gets...for all of us.”
I rest my forehead against his. “I know it does.” I kiss him again, because just like with Breslin earlier, I need something to take the edge off. “Don't give up on me, Asher. I'm gonna find a way to fix this.”
His hand slides to my neck, his eyes penetrating mine before he gives me a soft nod. “Fine. But I think your hopes are too high. One of us is going to end up getting hurt.”
“We're already hurting,” I argue and he stays silent.
A moment later, I sling an arm around him and start walking down the hall. “But we can't focus on that right now. We have a test you have to pass in—” I glance at my watch. “Three hours.”
He expels a breath. “Lead the way, nerd.”