Chapter 32 (Breslin)
“Well, according to Cosmo you are 100% addicted to sex.”
“What?” I ask above the din of the cafeteria. A cafeteria that's unusually crowded the day before Thanksgiving Recess begins. But then again, most of us are just getting out of exams and starving.
Kit holds up her phone. “100 out of 100. You, my floozy friend, are an addict.” She nudges my ribs and waggles her eyebrows. “Which would totally explain the last few months, huh?”
When she starts singing Addicted to Love- by Robert Palmer with a singing voice that could wake the dead, I roll my eyes. “Since when do you read Cosmo anyway?”
She gestures to the very long line ahead of us. “I'm hungry and bored.” She cups a hand over her mouth. “Especially since people are taking for-freaking-ever to get their food.”
I start to laugh, but when I look across the cafeteria it comes to a rapid halt. I feel like someone just stuck me in a DeLorean.
Because there's Asher Holden— smiling, laughing, and lighting up an entire room with his presence while the people surrounding him treat him like goddamn royalty.
I'm not being petty. Far from it, actually. Truth be told, I couldn't be happier that he's put Woodside back on the map and he's on a winning streak of epic proportions. With only two more games left in the season—one of them being the championship—he's damn near invincible and he's basically become a celebrity around here.
I just...I hate this feeling in my chest. I hate how familiar it all is.
Well, with one very big exception. My eyes fall on Landon. My adorable, sweet Landon who's sitting in a corner of the cafeteria by himself with a laptop in front of him and a pair of headphones on.
The past few months have been...interesting to say the least.
Kit snaps her fingers in front on my face. “Hello, earth to B.”
I look back at her. “Sorry. What's up?”
“I asked if you were sure that you didn't want to go to Nanna Bishop's with me for Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Positive,” I tell her. I hate that bigot woman with the fire of a thousand suns and I won't be able to spend five minutes in a room with her let alone an entire meal. “Plus, I'm kind of cooking dinner for Landon and Asher since Landon's now decided that he doesn't want to go to his parents' house anymore.”
I'd ask Kit to join us for dinner but I already know she'll decline because she doesn't want to upset her grandmother.
She looks across the cafeteria at him. “Still hasn't told them yet, huh?”
I shake my head. “Nope, but he will whenever he's ready. He said he didn't want to do it over the holidays.” I take a breath. “Also, he's planning on going to England and touring with one of his favorite indie rock bands over the Christmas break and wants to be in the right head space.”
The line moves up and we each pick up a tray. “Man, that's so awesome. Maybe they'll ask him to be a permanent member.”
“They might, but Landon said he doesn't—” My words fall when I see some brunette sidle up to Asher and stroke his arm. I can't hear what Asher says to her but she tosses her head back and giggles, her exposed cleavage practically jiggling with the movement.
I swallow hard. The girl is gorgeous. Like model gorgeous. Tall and slim with shiny dark hair and tits that are as perfect as the rest of her.
And although I've never spoken to the girl, I already hate her.
I hate her because she's everything I'm not.
My hands tighten around the tray I'm holding. The dynamic between the three of us is...weird. I mean, yeah, we have sex—great sex—but it's sort of an unspoken rule that I keep Asher at an arm's length and we both just focus on Landon.
Kit follows my gaze and frowns. “Look, if you want Megan Fox's doppelganger to stop flirting with your boyfriend then go over there and put a stop to it.”
I turn back around, grab a plate, and start loading it up with food. “He's not my boyfriend.”
Kit makes a face. “Okay, officially color me confused. Last time I checked you told me that Landon was your boyfriend and that—”
“Yes,” I say, harsher than I intended. “Landon is my boyfriend. Asher is most definitely not.”
Nor will he ever be again.
“But—” Kit starts.
I turn to face her...but instead come face to face with Asher.
“Excuse me,” he says to Kit. When he reaches over her for a plate and utensils, I don't miss the way his jaw tics.
I pull on my bottom lip. “Hey—”
“Yooo, Asher,” some guy ahead of us calls out. From the looks of it he's another football player. “Saved you a spot in line, man.”
Without so much as a look in my direction he walks over to his teammate.
Kit taps her chin. “You were saying?”
I drop my tray. “I'm not hungry anymore.”
“What the fuck? What is that?” Asher questions when he walks into Landon's kitchen, looking horrified.
“That,” I answer as I take the pan out of the oven. “Is Thanksgiving dinner.”
Asher drops his workout bag on a kitchen chair and gives me a look. “Why would you do that? For fuck's sake they're just babies, Breslin. They didn't even get a chance to become full on turkeys yet.” His eyes widen. “You monster.”
“They aren't turkey babies, you moron. They're Cornish hens. Supermarket ran out of turkey.”
Landon strides into the kitchen and does a double take when he looks in the pan. “What—”
“Dude, I know,” Asher says, frowning. “She even stuffed the little guys. Saddest thing I've ever seen.”
I wipe my hands on my apron. “If you don't like it, you don't have to eat it.” I stir the mashed potatoes. “I spent all day preparing this.”
Landon kisses my forehead. “It looks great.”
“Traitor,” Asher mumbles when he walks over to him and gives him the same greeting.
I grab three plates and start filling them with food and Landon grabs his laptop.
“It's Thanksgiving,” I remind him when he sits down. “Think you can put that away while we eat?”
I'm not trying to sound like a mother hen, but it's the first Thanksgiving that I've prepared and it means something to me.
My stomach sinks as I look at the food and I silently debate making a fourth plate. My father lives a little over three hours away by car. I could take a plate to him and see how he's doing. Given I haven't heard from him in months and whenever I call him I can't seem to get through, I'm really worried about him. I mean, I know he's still alive...the checks he keeps cashing from me tells me so.
Which I know in the back of my mind can only mean one thing.
My own father blocked me.
On some level, I should be relieved considering our relationship, but I'm not. Truth is, it makes my heart ache. Losing one parent is hard enough, but losing both of them?
“I'm just checking the airline for available flights to England,” Landon says, interrupting my thoughts.
“I thought you already booked your flight to England?”
“Yeah,” Asher chimes in. “Didn't you book it last month when you officially agreed to go on tour with them?”
Landon looks sheepish. “I did. But they asked me to come two weeks early. You know, hang out with them on the tour for a little bit so I know what to expect.”
“That's the entire winter break you'll be gone,” I whisper and he looks down.
“I can tell them no,” he starts to say but I shake my head.
“Don't you dare,” I tell him. “I know how excited you are about it. When do you have to leave?”
He presses a few more keys. “There's a cheap flight a few days before Christmas actually.”
Asher sighs and takes a sip of his water. “Don't go snogging or chatting up any blokes, got it?”
“Or shagging any girls,” I cut in and he looks between us.
“You're kidding me, right? Why in the world would I ever—”
“Didn't stop you the last time,” I blurt out and both him and Asher turn to look at me.
I want to take back what I said but it's the truth. The fact of the matter is—Landon's technicality aside; because I broke up with him before I left for Europe—I'm the only one in the room who hasn't ever cheated.
He stands up and walks over to me, framing my face in his hands. “I wouldn't do that to you. There's no other girl in the world who could ever compare to you.”
I force a smile and nod. We don't exactly have a great track record when it comes to one of us leaving the country, but I believe him when he says he'll stay faithful.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Asher scanning us intently. I don't know what to make of the expression on his face. It's somewhere between sadness and exasperated.
I bring the plates over to the table. “We should eat.”
Asher rubs the back of his neck, appearing uneasy. Right when Landon closes the top to his laptop, Asher looks at him. “Mrs. Rogers grade that last test yet?”
Landon scrunches his face. “I think so. Haven't had a chance to read her email yet, but she'll be posting the grades the day after tomorrow. Why?”
Asher pales. “It wasn't exactly my favorite test.”
I can see the panic on Landon's face and my stomach flips. Asher's been doing great in all his classes, English included, but he's really struggling when it comes to Ethics.
I fight the urge to laugh. It would be almost ironic and comical if it wasn't so serious.
Landon flips the top open on his laptop. “We studied for that test for hours.”
Asher digs into his mashed potatoes. “I'm sure it's not that bad. I'm still maintaining a C+ like I'm supposed to.”
Landon closes his eyes and curses. “You were maintaining a C+.” He turns his laptop and my hand flies over my mouth when I see the big, fat F next to his name.
“Shit,” I mumble at the same time Landon says, “Fuck, Asher.”
Asher throws his hands up in the air. “Don't look at me like that.” He stands up. “What the hell do you guys want from me? I'm doing the best I can here.” He starts ticking things off with his fingers. “I've won every single game so far. I'm up at the butt crack of dawn for every single practice. I'm busting my ass in all my other classes. I work like a slave for Coach Crane, picking up people's garbage all the time. Not to mention, I still find time for this relation—whatever the fuck this is.”
Landon drags a hand down his face. “You're gonna need to put in the effort if you—”
“No, don't even!” Asher shouts loud enough that the windows rattle. “You know how hard I already work. You know the sacrifices I make.”
“We all work our asses off,” I cut in. “You think I want to work doubles at a coffee shop and study my ass off so I can keep my scholarship? You think Landon wants to tutor idiots who don't pay attention to him all day in addition to attending classes for not one but two majors? Of course, not. But we do anyway. Welcome to the world of being a responsible adult, Asher. Not all of us were born with a silver spoon and a rich Daddy. Some of us have to make sacrifices for the things we want.”
He stabs the table with his pointer finger. “I didn't choose to make these sacrifices, Breslin.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Well, maybe the person you should be yelling at is your asshole brother instead of my boyfriend.”
He pounds the kitchen table with his fist. “Christ, you're a real piece of work.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means—” he starts to say before Landon stands up.
“Enough!” he shouts, glaring at us both. “Breslin, cut him some slack. The amount of pressure Asher is under is...enormous.”
I play with my stuffing. Landon has a point. Being threatened by a bookie who has ties to the mob because your brother has a gambling problem isn't exactly a walk in the park.
“I'm sorry,” I mumble in Asher's direction.
Landon puts his hands on his hips and blows out a breath. “I hate to say it, Asher but you're gonna have to really try and make this a priority. The Dean isn't going to give a shit about how many touchdowns you score, and considering you got a D on the Ethics test before this one, you have no choice but to get an A on your final.” He looks back at his laptop. “Hopefully she doesn't bench you for next week's game. I'm gonna see if I can talk to her first thing on Monday. Tell her you weren't feeling well when you took the test. The fact that you're doing so well in your other classes will help me plead my case.”
Asher nods. “Sounds like a plan.” He rubs his hands together. “I can hunker down, we can put in some more hours studying before the final—”
“I can't,” Landon whispers, rubbing his temples.
Asher slumps down in his chair. “What do you mean?”
“It means,” Landon says slowly. “That I can work in some extra time to help you with the next test, but my schedule for finals is all booked up.” He pulls a piece of paper out of his bag. “I literally have no time. Look how many students I'm scheduled to tutor during finals week.”
I suck in a breath when I notice all the time slots blocked off for the middle of December. “You'll hardly be sleeping.”
Landon nods. “It's insane. I'm not looking forward to it.” He sits back in his chair. “Not to mention I have a show at the Black Spoon the night before finals. And I have to spend whatever free time I have, which is pretty much none, making sure I know every single note and chord to every single song for The Resistance before I go on tour with them.”
My heart pulls, I've never seen Landon look so stressed.
“I can see if I can get a copy of the final...” Landon starts to say but Asher grabs his hand. “No. I appreciate the gesture, but I told you back then that I never wanted you to do that for me. It's okay. I've got this. I—”
“I can help,” I blurt out before I can stop myself. When they both look at me I add, “I'm getting an A in our Ethics class. And I'll be studying for the Ethics final myself anyway so it's really not a big deal.”
“You're gonna tutor me for the final?” Asher questions, raising a brow.
“Do you have a better option in mind?”
He leans back in his chair. “Nope.”
A bolt of annoyance hits me when I see the hint of a smile on his face. “What's your problem?”
He points to his chest. “Who me? No, I'm not the one with the problem here.” He flits his gaze down my body and back up again. “But you might have one.”
I balk at him. “Why?”
I want to reach over and wipe the sly smirk that spreads across his face. Especially after he looks me in the eye and utters, “Because I've been known to make my tutors fall in love with me.”
When you've spent the better part of the last two months sleeping in a bed with not one but two men almost every night...it's weird to wake up all alone.
Since classes are still out for the holiday I'm stumped as to where they both could be. I check my phone to see if Landon left me a text message and when I don't see any, I decide to stretch my limbs and get up out of bed.
I'm making my way across the small apartment to the kitchen when I hear it. The sound of something buzzing.
It sounds like it's coming from Landon's studio, which means he must have the door open.
When I walk down the short hallway and enter the room...
I scream. Or rather, it's more of an, “Eeekkk!”
My hand flies over my mouth as I take in the small pile of brown hair on the floor. The short, slightly wavy, beautiful strands once belonging to Landon.
A Landon who apparently now has...a freaking Mohawk.
They both look at me then. Both meaning Asher—destroyer of not only relationships, but hair. “Chill, Breslin,” he says, the buzz from the clippers in his hand going silent. “You almost made me fuck it up.”
Landon pivots on the piano bench he's sitting on. “I take it you don't like it?”
I fidget as I take in his new haircut. Both sides of his head are completely shaven, almost down to the scalp, leaving only the trail of short, spiky hair right down the center.
Asher rests the clippers on the bench before he reaches for a towel and wipes Landon's neck and shoulders. It's only then that I realize they're both shirtless and my heart does a little skip of appreciation.
He grabs his neck until Landon's head falls back and he looks up at him. “I think you look fucking hot,” Asher murmurs before he kisses him.
I clear my throat. “It's not that I don't like it. It's just...you know...sudden.” The truth is I've always hated change and I've never adapted well to it. And not for nothing, but they could have given me a heads up. “What made you want to get a Mohawk?”
“Technically it's more of a Fohawk,” Asher says. “His sides aren't completely shaven and his hair is short.”
“Right,” I whisper, unable to take my eyes off of Landon's hair.
“Told you she would freak,” Asher says and I glare at him.
“I'm not freaking.” I cross my arms and look at Landon. “I'm just caught a little off guard. How would you react if I decided to shave half my head one morning? Or change my hair color?”
Both Asher and Landon wince. “Fuck that noise,” Asher says. “Natural redheads are hard to come by. You're practically extinct.” A slow smirk touches his lips. “You might have bare floors, but I for one really dig the fact that your carpet would match the drapes.” He winks. “If you catch my drift.”
I roll my eyes because leave it up to Asher to make me feel like some kind of poodle at a dog show. “Wow, talking about hair and interior decorating in the same breath. How equally chauvinistic and stereotypical of you.”
He places a hand over his chest. “You wound me.” He grabs his dick through his basketball shorts. “But don't worry, baby. I'll let you get down on your knees so you can suck your apology out of me.”
I take a step forward. “That won't be happening, you fucking—”
“Enough,” Landon says, standing up. “Christ, I feel like I'm a goddamn referee instead of a boyfriend half the time.”
“Just half the time?” Asher scoffs, eyes on me.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He shoots me a smile. “It means your little damsel in distress bullshit is getting old.” He mock gasps. “Oh, wait. I better shut my mouth before you go running to Landon to kiss your boo-boo.”
I take a breath and let his harsh words roll off my back, but not before I say, “I run to Landon because he makes me feel good. Something you never do.”
He flicks a piece of hair off him. “I'm pretty damn sure I make you feel good when my mouth is between your legs.”
I crinkle my nose. “Yeah, well, you know what they say. Everyone has a purpose.”
We stand there glaring at one another for the better part of a minute, the anger between us rising like a tidal wave.
“If you two don't mind, I have to get some work done,” Landon says, shaking his head.
My heart pulls because he wasn't wrong before. He really does play the part of referee when it comes to me and Asher.
I look at him, intending to apologize and I swear I do a double take. I've always been attracted to Landon, but somehow it's kicked up a notch. His new haircut combined with his tattoos have him looking 100% sexy rocker. The freaking women—and men—in the U.K. are going to be tossing their panties at him...or should I say knickers, while he's over there.
I lick my suddenly dry lips and Landon's eyes track the movement. “You okay?”
I back up and heat rises to my cheeks. “Yeah. I'm f-fine.” Jesus, did I actually just stutter? I take another step back, suddenly very aware that all I have on is a t-shirt and underwear. While these two insanely attractive men are staring at me like I'm their breakfast.
“Dude, she's totally turned on,” Asher says. “Look at her nipples. Those suckers could cut glass right now.”
I narrow my eyes, intending to tell him off for talking about me like I'm not even here but then my insides swoop when Landon grins and takes a stride in my direction, backing me into a wall. “Is that so?”
“I um. I think maybe I really like your haircut after all,” I whisper.
He looks down at my tits and my nipples get even harder.
A rush of air escapes me when he grabs a fistful of my shirt. And then before I can say another word he lifts it up, exposing my boobs. In my peripheral vision, I see Asher adjust his erection as Landon lowers his mouth and circles one of my nipples with his tongue.
“Take off your panties,” he says between my breasts, his voice rough and tight. “Show me how wet you are for me.”
Good lord, there isn't enough air to suck in with that statement. My fingers find my hips and slowly I peel them down my legs and step out of them, kicking them to the side.
Landon's eyes darken when he picks them up and my entire body shakes when he brings the crotch up to his mouth and licks.
Behind Landon, Asher's nostrils flare and he squeezes his dick through his basketball shorts while muttering a curse.
When Landon swipes his tongue across the fabric a second time and groans, my legs turn to mush.
His gaze dips to where I'm clenching my thighs. “Open your—”
A loud, almost obnoxious knock on the door stops him mid-sentence.
I open my mouth to ask if he was expecting any visitors but then his phone rings and the color drains from his face. “It's my mom.”
“Talk about ruining the mood,” Asher says.
Landon turns and looks between the both of us. “I should probably let her in.” He cringes. “Considering she has a key and all.”
He starts walking. “Would you two mind hanging out in here? Just until I tell her about the both of you.”
Without waiting for a response, he walks out.
When I start to pick up my t-shirt and underwear, Asher smirks. “Don't get dressed on my account.”
I quickly put my clothes back on. “You're such a—”
“Oh, my goodness, Landon. What happened to your hair?” a woman's voice shrieks, effectively cutting me off.
“Guess his mom doesn't dig it, either.” He starts to walk toward the door but I grab his elbow. “What are you doing? He told us to wait in here.”
“I'm walking out to the hall so I can hear them better.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “That's called eavesdropping.”
He shrugs. “So? Trust me, Landon's no stranger to popping in on people during a private moment. Besides, what if he needs one of us to be there for him when he tells her, but we won't be able to hear him because we're stuck in here.” He points a finger at me. “And you can't tell me you're not curious to hear what he says about us in the first place.”
I pull on my bottom lip. He has a point. Not about being curious, but about not being able to hear him in case he needs us.
At least that's what I tell myself as I follow Asher out to the hallway and prop myself against the wall, with him on the other side of me.
“You said you were sick yesterday,” his mom starts. “So, I brought you some soup.”
“Thanks,” Landon says. “I'm feeling better now.”
I hear the sound of a kitchen stool scraping across the floor. “So, what's with the hair? It doesn't exactly scream professional. Thankfully it will grow out before you graduate.”
There's a long sigh from Landon. “I wanted something different.” He pauses. “I also thought it would be kind of cool since I'm going on tour with a band over the Christmas break. I'll be traveling to England so it's—”
“I'm sorry, what?” his mom yells. “Exactly when were you planning on telling me?”
Landon starts to speak but then he's cut off again. “You can't go all the way to England, Landon. You're sick, something could happen to you.”
“I have diabetes, Ma. Not cancer,” Landon counters.
“No,” his mom says sternly. “I'm sorry, but absolutely not. You're canceling your trip.”
Landon laughs. “I'm 21. And I've been much better about taking care of myself lately.”
Silence stretches between them for what feels like hours before she says, “I'll talk to your father about it. Maybe one of us can go with you since we'll be on Christmas break, too.”
Geez. Landon wasn't kidding about his mother being overprotective.
“I've already paid for the flight and signed a contract. I'm not canceling and I don't need a chaperone. I've been living on my own for almost four years and I'm still alive. I can handle going to the U.K. by myself.”
“Landon—”
“How's the rug rat doing?”
“Lainey is fine, she's doing much better in her Math class now. She said the notes you emailed her have really helped.”
“Good, I'm glad.”
Beside me, Asher smiles, then Landon's mom speaks again. “So, I spoke with my boss the other day. He's agreed to set you up with an interview after you graduate and all but guaranteed me a job for you. It's obviously close to home and you'll save on rent by moving back in—”
“Mom,” Landon whispers. “I appreciate it, I really do, but I already told you that I wasn't sure what I wanted to do after I graduate.”
“Working at my school district and moving back home were the terms when your father and I paid for your tuition and agreed you could attend Woodside University,” she says sharply and both me and Asher frown.
“Things change.” He sighs. “I'm not trying to upset you, but you know how much I love music—”
“It's a hobby, Landon, not a suitable career path. We've talked about this.”
Anger flickers in my chest. For some people that might be true, but not for Landon. He bleeds music from his very soul. The world would be a cold and dark place if he ever stopped creating or playing.
He was meant to play and create music, not the other way around.
“What is going on with you?” His mother says suddenly. “You seem so different now.”
I hear the sound of the microwave turning on. “You mean happy. I think the word you're looking for is happy. Because I am happy now. Really freaking happy.”
Warmth coats my heart with those words and I grin.
“Well, that's good to hear.” Before Landon can follow up she quickly says, “I take it you're still seeing that girl. The architecture major. Brenda, right?”
Asher shakes his head and I roll my eyes.
“Breslin,” Landon corrects and pride surges in my chest. “Her name is Breslin and yes I am. She's amazing.” I can practically feel my heart stop with his next pause. “She's not the only one I'm seeing, though.”
His mom clears her throat. “Well, you know what I think about that. But as long as you're safe I suppose there's no harm in not settling down with a girl right now—”
“His name is Asher,” Landon whispers and beside me Asher's body goes rigid.
“Who is Asher?” his mom questions, sounding confused.
He blows out a breath. “My boyfriend. His name his Asher. That's the other person I'm seeing. I have a boyfriend and a girlfriend.”
My heart folds in on itself. Talk about ripping the band-aid right off and putting yourself out there. But that's who Landon is, fearless and brave.
His mother laughs. “You're joking, right? You've always liked girls.”
I wince, my mind flashing back to prom night. When I look over at Asher he closes his eyes.
“I know, and you're right—I did and I do still like girls,” Landon answers. “But when Asher and I met we had a connection that I couldn't turn away from. He's really great and I can't wait for you to meet—”
“You're not a homosexual, Landon,” his mother yells, sounding irate. “This is just a stupid college phase.”
“This isn't a phase,” Landon argues. “And you're right, I'm not a homosexual. I'm bisexual, technically. But none of the labels even matter because I love the both of them.”
Someone slams something on the kitchen counter. “I knew sending you away to college was a bad idea. Your father said you needed to spread your wings, but I knew something horrible was going to happen—”
“Me being happy and in love with two people is something horrible?” Landon questions and a loud sob breaks out from her.
“Oh, my God,” his mother croaks out. “I can't believe this is happening.” She sucks in air. “Do you know you can catch AIDS from being gay! This supposed boyfriend of yours is going to give you AIDS and I will end up losing you just like I lost Levi.”
Beside me, Asher flinches and rage flares deep in my belly. While I can sympathize with her losing her son, it's not okay to lash out at Landon like this. Her son is bisexual, and most importantly...he's happy. Something that should make her feel good as a parent, but instead she's acting like he just confessed to murder.
My blood whooshes in my ears and I start to shake. I might not be bisexual myself, but I've faced people like this woman my whole life. The world is full of people who think like her. People who judge those who are different and don't fit into a nice little box and it makes me sick.
I'm ready to walk out there and let this lady have a piece of my mind, but Asher clamps a hand on my shoulder and shakes his head.
“He's got this,” he mouths.
“You can catch AIDS regardless of who you have sex with if you're not careful—” Landon starts to say before she cuts him off.
“And the girl. I mean, what self-respecting woman actually gets involved with two men!” My stomach sinks as she continues. “Just what kind of girl encourages this type of behavior or relationship? A disgraceful girl... that's who. Not the kind of girl you marry or have children with.” Asher's jaw flexes and he balls his fists. When he makes to go out there next, I halt him by reaching for his hand.
“My God, this whole entire thing is disgusting and sick,” his mother cries out. “It's clear these two have corrupted you somehow.”
She lets out another sob. “You've always been sensitive and people have always taken advantage of you.” A stool scrapes across the kitchen floor again. “But this isn't normal,” she says. “Nothing about what you're telling me right now is normal. Healthy people don't lead lives like this. You need help.” There's rummaging of some kind. “My friend knows a shrink and—”
I don't hear the rest of her statement because my heart falls to the floor with those words and tears spring to my eyes. Not just because her statement is cruel...but because it's dripping in honesty.
Landon's mom is right, nothing about our situation is normal and there are days where I can barely wrap my head around it. It's probably why we never talk about it—because it hurts too much to scrutinize the life that we're living, and we already know what society would say about our little arrangement as well as about us individually.
This whole thing started out as a solution to a problem. A way to deal with the anger and get over what happened. And while that didn't happen...something else did.
Because as complicated as this situation may be...there's something real and raw about it. When I have a bad day, I come here and talk about it. When I'm feeling insecure about something, both of them somehow know without me having to say a word.
When I need fire and passion. Someone to go toe to toe with until I've gotten every ounce of whatever I'm feeling out of my system for the day—there's Asher. Challenging me. Provoking me. Being the constant mirror that shows me how much I've overcome all while shaking me up and tearing me apart at the same time. He's the reminder to never be that girl I once was. The reminder that I need to be stronger than her.
And when I need someone to soothe the ache and lick my wounds, both the past and present ones —Landon's always there. Grounding me. Showing me it's okay to be vulnerable and let someone in again. Making me believe that good people really do exist all while loving me with everything he has. The kind of love I'm not so sure that I deserve most of the time. But still, he gives it to me in spades.
One sets my soul on fire and rocks me to my core, breaking me into a thousand tiny pieces over and over. The other is the balm that heals me and puts me back together again.
I close my eyes and sink against the wall, fighting back tears.
I loathe one and love the other...but I'm unable to let either of them go. I'm too far gone to stop what's already been started.
“I know you're worried and confused,” Landon says above his mother's loud sobs. “I get it, this is a lot to take in. But I don't need a shrink. Please just listen—”
“Pack up your stuff. I'm taking you home,” his mother says and I squeeze Asher's hand tighter. “This place...these horrible people have ruined you.”
“Jesus, I'm not ruined, Ma. Take a breath, tone down the damn dramatics, and listen to what I'm saying,” Landon barks, his tone laced with irritation. “I'm happy and I'm not going back home. And I'd really appreciate it if you would stop speaking badly about the people I love. You don't even know them.”
“The people you love?” she scoffs. “Do you even hear yourself right now? This isn't right, Landon. This isn't the life we had planned for you—”
“I'm not him!” The sonorous timbre of his voice vibrates off the walls and I jump. “You can't resurrect Levi by controlling every aspect of my life. It won't bring him back.”
“You're right,” his mother says softly, her voice cracking. “And I know you're not him, because Levi never would have disappointed me like this.”
Before I can stop him, Asher lets go of my hand and charges out there. I'm right on his heels.
His mother's jaw falls open and she gapes at us. All I can think is that it's rather ironic that Landon inherited his kind and beautiful brown eyes from her, because right now hers are filled with nothing but malice for the two of us.
Asher crosses his arms over his chest. “Get the hell out.” His voice is so dark and gritty I fight back a shiver.
She jabs a finger at the both of us, looking appalled. “Excuse me?”
I mirror Asher's stance, not even caring that the only thing I'm wearing currently is one of Landon's t-shirts. “You heard him.”
I look at Landon, gauging his reaction. My heart cracks when I see his glassy eyes and distraught expression. I run over to where he's standing and throw my arms around him.
Her head swivels to Landon. “If you choose this lifestyle.” The finger that she's pointing at him shakes. “You can kiss your tuition and the job I just got you good-bye.” She takes a step toward the door. “If you do this, you will have no one. Do you hear me?”
Landon stays silent...but I don't. “That's not true, because he has me.” My eyes find Asher's. “He has us.”
When Asher walks over to the door and opens it, she grimaces. “Don't even think about contacting your sister until you've come to your senses. You know how much she looks up to you and I don't want you contaminating her with this filth.”
When Landon closes his eyes and winces, Asher bangs on the frame of the door. “Out!”
The second Asher closes the door behind her, Landon collapses in my arms, his entire body defeated. I hold him tighter than I've ever held anyone in my life. I whisper how much I love him and how brave he is for doing what he did and having the courage to not only tell her, but stand up to her when she didn't accept him. I tell him he's the greatest human being that I've ever known.
He lifts his head when Asher walks over and I release him.
Asher blows out a breath. “Maybe I shouldn't have thrown her out. It's just...hurtful things were being said and I couldn't stand by and—”
“Thank you,” Landon whispers, looking at both of us.
He starts to turn around but Asher touches his shoulder. “I'm sorry.” His voice almost cracks on the word and tears sting my eyes.
Landon's eyebrows draw together. “For what?”
“For being the reason that she—”
In a flash, Landon wraps him in a hug. “Don't you ever apologize for that. Meeting you was one of the best things that ever happened to me.” He looks at me. “The both of you.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “She'll come around some day.” His mouth tightens. “Or at least I hope she does.”
When he takes a step back, he rubs his face. “I'm gonna go in the studio for a little bit.”
Before either of us can say a word, he walks down the hallway and shuts the door behind him.
“He told me his mother was overprotective but—” Asher's voice trails off.
“I know,” I say. “I feel horrible about what happened to her son but the way she treats Landon is—”
A loud boom coming from the studio causes me to stop mid-sentence. Asher and I look at one another and then we both run down the hallway and charge through the studio door.
Only to find Landon slamming his piano with a hammer, the beautiful wood splitting and pieces of ivory keys flying across the room with each swing he takes. He's shaking and there are tears in his eyes and my heart shreds with every chunk of the piano that breaks.
“Landon, stop!” I go to intervene, but Asher pushes me to the side and catches him in his arms mid-swing, holding him against him.
“Don't let her do this,” Asher says, pressing Landon's back to his chest. “I know it hurts, I get it, but do not let her make you feel like there's something wrong with you.” The hammer Landon's holding drops and Asher kisses his cheek. “Because there's nothing wrong with you. And you're not a disappointment, Landon. Far from it, man. You're all the things I'm not. All the things I wish I could be.”
Landon's chest rises and falls and when Asher gestures for me to walk over, I do. “You have people who love you, Landon,” I whisper. “For being exactly who you are.”
He inhales slowly, going slack in Asher's arms.
When Asher releases him, he makes his way out of the studio and we follow. We can clean up the mess later, right now this is more important.
Landon sits on the end of the bed with his head in his hands, looking so dejected I want nothing more than to track down his mother and make her feel exactly how she made him feel.
But I can't...because that won't do any good at this point. The damage is already done.
The only thing I can do now is show him that he is loved.
Asher and I walk over to him—and then we proceed to spend the entire night making love to Landon, separately and together.
“Hey,” Landon whispers, turning on his side to face me in bed.
“Hey,” I whisper back.
The sound of Asher snoring softly on the other side of me makes us both laugh.
One of Landon's shoulders rise with a half-shrug. “Well, at least one of us can sleep.” His face screws up. “Did I scare you when I went off earlier?”
“A little,” I tell him honestly. “But I get it. You were hurting.”
He slides a finger up my arm, leaving goosebumps on my skin. “I kind of feel like a wuss for losing it and crying in front of you.”
I graze my thumb along the stubble on his cheek. “I don't think you're a wuss at all. One of the things I love about you is that you're not like all the other guys out there. You wear your heart on your sleeve and you're not afraid to say what you're feeling. There's something admirable about that.”
He starts to smile, but then his mouth draws tight. “Are you going home for Christmas break?”
I shake my head. “No. I mean, I thought about it, but given my father blocked me there's really nothing to go home to.”
Who am I kidding? There never was.
I tuck my hands under my chin. “Kit asked if I wanted to go to the Caribbean with her and Nanna Bishop but I declined.” I sag back against my pillow. “The University closes the dorms for winter break but I filled out a slip to stay since I'm not planning on changing dorms. Plus, they're holding classes over winter recess for the local students so the cafeteria and stuff will still be open. It won't be that bad.”
“You could come with me to England,” he suggests.
“Can't. I'm scheduled for doubles at the coffee shop over the break and Larry will fire me for good if I screw him over by going on vacation again. Besides, you'll be off being a rock God. I'll only be a distraction.”
His mouth curves into a grin and he lifts the sheet, exposing my breasts. “I'll say.”
I slap his shoulder playfully. “Asshole.”
“Thought that was your nickname for Asher?” he questions as I tuck the sheet around me again. Before I can offer a rebuttal, he bites his lip. “I think he's staying on campus, too.”
I sigh heavily, annoyance plowing into me. “Yeah, I figured as much.”
He adjusts his position on the bed. “It can't go on like this forever, Bre. You guys are going to end up killing each other one day.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I'm not talking about this.”
We're both silent for a long beat, and then he says, “What if things between you two didn't happen exactly the way you thought they did?”
My heart bashes inside my chest and I look him in the eyes. “What do you mean?”
His forehead wrinkles and he opens his mouth, but then closes it before he whispers, “Nothing.”
I exhale slowly and turn so I'm lying on my back. “Wouldn't matter anyway,” I decide. “There's nothing you could say that would make me forgive him for what he did, and lord knows there's no way to take back the years of pain he caused.”
Or the pain he's still causing me. Because every time I look at him it still hurts.