Chapter 15 (Breslin)
Kit fills her solo cup with more vodka and knocks it against mine. “To bitches who need stitches.”
I raise an eyebrow because I'm not exactly sure why we're toasting to that of all things. But then again, we're both kind of buzzed right now. Besides, if it makes Kit feel better, I'm all for it.
After I click my cup against hers I take a sip. Given that it's Friday night, I suggested going to a party, but she wanted to stay here, which was perfectly fine with me.
There's a knock on the door and Kit raises her cup in the air and toasts to that as well.
“Do you get it?” she questions between large swallows. “Because Becca needs stitches.”
I don't get it, and I'm pretty sure I already gave her a few, but I stay silent about that and go to the door instead.
I do a double take when I see both Landon and Asher.
Landon, I expected because I asked him to come, but it goes without saying that I most certainly don't want him here.
Landon opens his mouth but he's cut off by Asher. “Hey, how's it going?”
Behind me, Kit sniffles. “Because she's a lying, cheating, whore.”
Landon looks at her sympathetically, and I move to the side to allow him in, but block it when Asher takes a step. “I don't—”
Kit sits up straight on her bed and squints her eyes. “What is he doing here? He's the enemy,” she says, taking the words right out of my mouth.
Landon looks like he's going to object but I look back at Asher. “I think that's your cue to leave.”
“Damn right it is,” Kit calls out from behind me.
Asher smirks, pulls something out of his pocket, and holds it up in the air. “I have weed.”
“Oh, my God,” I groan at the same time Kit yells, “On second thought, let the man stay!”
He winks at me. “You heard her.”
I begrudgingly move to the side and he flashes his bright, white teeth in my direction. Fucking dimples and all.
Asshole Asher I can deal with. It's the charming Asher that's always an issue for me.
I open the window by my bed as Asher plops down in a chair by the desk and proceeds to roll a few joints.
He looks at Kit. “I'm guessing it's just going to be me and you partaking?”
Kit nods her head wildly. “More for us.”
“I'll smoke,” Landon says, shocking the hell out of all of us.
Asher makes a face, but I don't miss the hint of his smug smile. “Graduation parties aside, have you ever done it before, nerd?”
Landon shrugs and looks around the room. “Once. A long time ago.”
Kit claps her hands and smiles wide. “Oh, this is going to be great.”
Asher's eyes lock with mine and he licks the joint in a way that makes my thighs clench. “You want some?”
My jaw nearly hits the ground. “Absolutely not.”
He peruses my entire body from head to toe from underneath that beanie hat of his and I feel my cheeks heat. “Didn't think so.”
I don't know if I'm madder at the way he's calling me out for being a prude right now, or the fact that he just came in here like he owned the place and completely took charge of the entire room.
I fold my arms across my chest, hating that I'm suddenly feeling like an outsider in my own dorm.
He lights a joint, takes a puff, and passes it to Kit who happily tokes away.
He lights the next one and presses it between Landon's lips. “Take in as much as you can handle.”
The end of the joint lights for a few moments before Landon brings his fist to his mouth and lets out a cough. “Damn, that's pretty strong.”
“It's marvelous,” Kit sighs, taking another puff off her joint.
Before I can stop myself, I find myself whispering, “I want some.”
Kit bounces on the bed and Landon coughs again. “You sure?” He looks at Asher. “Don't let him pressure you.”
“He's not.” I walk over to where Asher is sitting and hold out my hand. “Give me.”
Asher's thick arm stretches around my waist, pulling me closer and he bites his lip. “Not until you open your mouth for me.”
I swallow thickly, because the way he's looking at me right now has me feeling higher than a kite and I haven't even smoked anything yet.
I try to back away, but his hand finds my hip.
“Relax, I'm giving you a shotgun. All you have to do is suck it.”
I don't miss the slight smirk on his face when he says that, and I watch in equal parts confusion and curiosity as he sticks the lit end in his mouth and places it between his teeth before motioning for me to lean in.
I lower my head, ghosting over his lips. The hand around my hip tightens ever so slightly as I proceed to inhale and fill my lungs with as much as I can of it. It burns a little but not nearly as much as I thought it would.
When he takes the joint out of his mouth, I clear my throat. “Can I have another?” When his eyes go smoky I quickly say, “Not a shot gun.”
He licks his lips and holds the joint out for me. “Go slow.”
I inhale it, only this time, it burns way more than the first time and I start choking.
The hand on my hip finds the sliver of skin that's exposed on the small of my back and I gasp when his thumb grazes it, which only makes me cough again.
Out of the corner of my eye Landon comes into focus and I all but jump away from Asher. I'm not sure why I do, but I don't like this strange feeling coming over me. It's weird being close to Asher when Landon's in the same room. It just doesn't feel right...especially given that I have absolutely no desire to be with Asher ever again.
Landon's expression is stoic and unreadable as he presses a few buttons on his phone and Sublime's -Smoke Two Joints starts to play.
I quickly take a seat on the floor next to him and Kit laughs. “Damn, I haven't listened to this song since High School.”
“It's a classic,” Landon says with a smile. “But yeah, I used to listen to it and play it all the time back then.”
“I hated High School,” I grumble and hurt flashes in Asher's eyes before he looks at me and says, “I loved it.”
My stomach knots and I force down painful memories.
“High school was hit or miss for me,” Kit says woefully, tucking a hand behind her head. “Some days the teenage angst was unbearable.” A slow grin spreads across her face. “But other days were awesome. Like the time I felt up Jackie Lawrence in my grandmother's pool house.” Kit takes another puff. “Or rather, it was awesome...until my grandmother walked in right when I had her nipple in my mouth.”
Landon spits out his drink and Asher laughs. “Talk about ruining the moment.”
“Oh, Dude, you have no idea.” She holds her hands out in front of her chest. “Girl had a rack for days and nipples like dinner plates. It was fucking heaven.” Both guys nod in understanding and she cringes. “My grandmother is such a bitch. Can't wait until she kicks the bucket and I don't have to pretend to be straight anymore.”
“Wait a minute,” Landon says. “She doesn't know you're a lesbian?”
“Oh, she knows,” I say, my irritation growing. “But Nanna Bishop is convinced that she can—” I hold up my fingers and make air quotes. “'Fix' Kit and won't pay for college or give her any of the family money unless Kit goes out on a date with a guy of her choosing once a month.” I shake my head in disgust. “It's such bullshit.”
“Damn,” Asher says. “That sucks.”
“Yeah,” Kit whispers. “I mean, it's not like I do anything with them. Usually we just grab fast food and talk. Heck, I even took Becca with me on a few of them.” She closes her eyes at the mention of Becca's name. “I was gonna give it all up for her.”
When the guys give me a weird look I say, “It goes without saying that if Kit married a girl, she'd be cut off from her family's money.”
Asher sits up in his seat. “Did Becca know that? Because that chick is a gold-digger if there ever was one.”
Kit swings her legs over the bed. “I assumed she did, given she was cool with the dates I had to go on. But what makes you so sure she's a gold-digger?”
“My parents.” When she gives him a look he adds, “It's no secret in my family that my mom married my dad for his money. I knew I'd never follow in the same footsteps because I'd marry for love, but I was always scared Preston would.” He looks at Kit. “I know it hurts, but you're both better off without her. You dodged a bullet. Save your love for the person who deserves it.”
Something in my chest shifts with his words. I never in a million years thought I'd be hearing the guy who broke my heart giving dating advice to my best friend. I look down and take a breath when Landon reaches for my hand, almost like he knows what I'm thinking.
Kit takes another sip of her drink. “It's gonna take a long time to get over her. I really thought she was the one.” She puts her cup down. “Can't lie, though. I kind of want to kick her ass.”
“You don't have to,” Landon says, taking a sip of his drink. “Breslin already took care of that for you.”
Kit's mouth drops open. “What? When?”
“When I left for Art class.”
She picks up her glass again. “I can't believe you did that for me, Sugar Rae.”
“Nah, it was more like Muhammad,” Asher chimes in. “She had this shuffle thing going on with her feet.”
“Well, she is kind of scrappy,” Kit says before looking at me. “Good Lord, Breslin.”
“What? She hurt you.” I look down at my fingers which are entwined with Landon's. “Bitch deserved it.”
Kit opens her mouth to say something but her phone goes off and her face pales. “Breslin how bad did you hurt her?”
What a weird question. “I don't know. I'm pretty sure she might have a broken nose.”
Asher lifts a shoulder. “I broke it up before she could do too much damage.”
Kit tosses her phone on the bed and clutches her pillow, tears streaming down her face again. “That's good.” She looks at Asher. “Because she's pregnant.”
I watch in disbelief as Landon—my sweet, adorable, responsible Landon wobbles in a drunken stupor before Asher and I haul him onto my bed.
Neither Asher nor I wanted to get carried away tonight given that I have a job interview at the coffeehouse I used to work at and Asher has practice in the morning. Which meant Landon took one for the team and went shot for shot with a now passed out Kit.
Asher reaches around in Landon's pockets and pulls out his meter and insulin. “Given all the alcohol he's consumed tonight, make sure you pay careful attention.”
I snatch them out of his hand. “Yeah, I know. Not for nothing, but I dated him long before you were in the picture.”
Landon reaches up, gripping both our hands. “Please no fighting.” He kisses my hand and then Asher's. “I love you both so much.”
Before any of us can say a word, he closes his eyes.
Asher grabs the back of his neck. “Looks like the weed made him a hippie.”
I try to stop the smile from hitting my lips, but Asher notices. “Good to know I can still get one of those.”
Put your guard up—I remind myself as I start tossing various bottles and garbage in a plastic bag.
When Asher starts to help, I stop him. “I've got this.”
He throws a few cups in the trash. “Yeah, but you shouldn't walk outside to the dumpster by yourself.” He looks out the window. “It's late, something bad could happen.”
Like letting the guy who smashed my heart to smithereens inside of it again?
“Fine,” I agree, moving toward the door.
He takes the garbage from me and I swear on all that is holy that I feel sparks fly like the Fourth of July when his hand brushes mine.
An awkward silence thickens the air as we make our way down the stairs and out to the dumpsters.
I stuff my hands in my sweatshirt, fighting a chill that I'm not sure is due to the weather or the fact that I'm standing next to Asher.
“Wasn't aware you turned into a pot head,” I say suddenly, hating myself for being so concerned.
His teeth dig into his lower lip and he looks embarrassed. “I don't smoke all the time.” He lifts one massive shoulder. “I've been having some issues with anxiety and it helps with that.”
Something close to guilt for being so judgmental prickles my belly with those words and I inhale slowly.
I can feel his eyes on me right before he asks, “What made you choose Woodside?”
When I open my mouth he quickly says, “Aside from the obvious fact that I won't bring up. It's just...Falcon had an amazing Art program.”
“Woodside has a really good Architecture program.” I play with the strings on my sweatshirt. “Being an artist isn't exactly a stable career path, Asher.”
No matter how much I may love it.
“You've gotten even better,” he whispers and I glare at him. “You looked at my portrait.”
“We're partners, Breslin.”
There's a meaning behind those words that I don't want to touch, so I just nod softly, not wanting to ruin this unspoken agreement of ours not to argue momentarily. “Thanks.”
He opens the top to the dumpster and tosses the garbage bag inside. “I think you'd be depriving the world of your talent if you didn't pursue it.” He holds up his hands. “But that's just my two cents.”
“What about football?”
When he raises an eyebrow in question I add, “Are you still headed for the NFL like you planned?”
He shakes his head. “No. That's not really in my future anymore now that I'm at Woodside.” He closes his eyes briefly and my heart pangs.
“I'm sorry,” I say, my chest aching for him because I know how much he wanted to play in the NFL. “You never know, though. They could still draft you.”
He gives me a strange look and opens his mouth but then closes it and shrugs. “Maybe. But I'm not exactly a star on the field anymore.”
“Why? I mean, football was your passion. What you lived and breathed for. What changed?”
He gives me a look that I feel all the way down to my marrow. “It's complicated, Breslin.” He scrubs a hand down his face and sighs. “My team hates me. There was a guy named O'Connor, who's now expelled, but he caused some shit before he left. And now no one on the team listens to me or respects me. I know I'm partly at fault because I've been distracted lately, but they're no help. I make a play and they ignore me and do the opposite. Then they laugh behind my back because they know the coach comes down on me. Not to mention, we all know it's a bullshit team that's destined for failure anyway so no one bothers putting in the effort. Everyone's attitude sucks.”
“Including yours,” I mutter. “Try earning their respect by believing in them, Asher. You're the leader of the team, the one they turn to. Why should they believe in themselves let alone the team when you don't?” I glower at him. “Once you've earned their respect, give them a taste of what it's like to win out on that field and they'll start craving it. It's human nature.”
His brows knit together. “You're right.” He looks at me and I fight back a shiver because in typical Asher Holden fashion— he's looking at me like I'm all he can see.
“I needed to hear that. Thank you.” he says as he holds open the door and I slip past him.
I stay silent as we walk up the stairs and back up to our dorms, fighting like hell to evade the pull of chemistry that surrounds us like a live wire. Because even though I have every reason to hate him...it's only grown stronger.
When my hand lands on the doorknob and I mumble a curt goodbye in his direction, he leans down and kisses my cheek.
I make the horrible mistake of turning my head, and that's when fire meets gasoline, the spark between us ignites...
And all hell breaks loose.
Blood rushes in my ears when his hands land on my waist and he spins me around, pressing me against the door.
“Breslin.” The gravel and desperation in his voice is as thick as the emotion behind it.
I open my mouth and he takes the opportunity to press his lips to mine until we're breathing the same charged air that crackles between us.
Thump, Thump, thump goes my stupid heart and I have to grab on to him to stop myself from falling.
When his tongue darts out to lick mine and he groans, I become so lightheaded I have to close my eyes.
“Asher,” I whisper against his lips, silently pleading with him not to do this, because I won't be able to resist him.
“Okay.” He slowly backs away, his expression intent. “But I'm not going to stop trying, Breslin. No matter how much you hate me.”
The organ in my chest kick starts and I despise that for one brief moment...I want him to make good on his promise. I want him to hold me and never let me go again.
But if he does that? There's only one way it will end.
In a catastrophe that can't ever be fixed.
I brace myself against the door and glare at him. “You know...it would be harder to hate you if you weren't here.”
And then before he has a chance to stop me again, I throw open my door and run inside, safely locking it behind me.
After checking on Kit, I walk over to my bed that Landon's currently sleeping on and curl myself around him.
Despite the fact that he smells like a brewery and a Snoop Dogg concert, I breathe him in.
“You okay?” he whispers, his face twisted in concern. He turns to me and runs his hands through my hair as he waits for my answer.
“No.” My voice cracks right before the tears give way.
He pulls me until I'm resting right over his heart. “I'm here. I'm right here, Breslin.”
“I know you are.” I kiss the spot above his heart and his arms tighten around me, steadying me, easing away the pain in a way that only he can.
By being the rock that he is. The rock he's always been but I was too blind to see.
“I love you, Landon,” I whisper before I close my eyes.
And although it's not the first time I've said it...it's the first time I've truly felt it.
Something in my heart both cracks and mends with the realization.
The realization that you can love two people at the same time.
But you can only choose one to live for.