Chapter 43 (Breslin)
I'm in love with Asher Holden.
I squeeze my eyes shut and shove my pillow over my head, attempting to drown out that thought.
For the last 3 weeks, 29 hours, and 4 minutes it's been the first thought I have when I wake up and my last thought before I close my eyes, replacing my old thoughts of how much he hurt me and how I need to move on.
I figured that demanding he stay away from me was the solution, considering I do love Landon and I'd rather cut off both my arms than ever hurt him again. But no. It's only made everything worse.
When he came into the coffee shop yesterday I damn near keeled over. And when he told me about being drafted, it took everything in me not to wrap my arms around him and hold on to him for dear life.
I look at the ceiling and fill my lungs with air, hoping the movement will smack some desperately needed sense into me.
When that doesn't work, I force myself to remind my heart and brain why falling in love with Asher again is literally the worst thing I could do.
The guy has already hurt me worse than any other human on the planet ever has. Not to mention, admitting my feelings for him and pursuing them would hurt Landon, and I know that hurt is the kind that never heals.
But he was yours first—my stupid brain insists.
You never fell out of love with him—my stupid heart reminds me and I place my hand on top of it.
Thump, thump, thump.
The heart is a dangerous thing, because the organ never lies. No matter how many deceptions you try to feed it...it always knows what and who it beats for.
And while Landon has part of my heart—it's Asher who holds it firmly in his grip...and he's never letting go.
I sit up in bed and rub my temples. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do when Landon gets back. How the hell is our relationship supposed to work when the thought of Asher being in the same room makes me sick because I want him so much?
Rising from the bed, I walk into the bathroom and look at my reflection. And then, I force myself to repeat the same mantra that I have for the last three weeks. “Asher Holden destroyed you, Breslin. He cheated on you with the enemy.”
I turn the faucet on and splash cool water on my face, and finally, I repeat the last part of my mantra while looking myself in the eyes. “You will hurt Landon. The other guy you love.”
When my heart starts to protest again, I slam my chest with my fist in time to my next thoughts. Hoping I can beat all the love I have for Asher out of my heart.
Kyle Sinclair. Prom night. He wrecked you.
After another minute or so, I walk out of the bathroom. My loathing for Asher flows through me once more like a protective shield and I cling to it like a lifeline, because that's exactly what it is right now. Without it—I shudder and stop that thought before it can take root— because I won't let myself think about what would happen without it.
I need the pain of what he did to continue being the barrier that exists between us.
Pushing those thoughts aside, I start getting ready for my shift at the coffee house. I startle when my phone rings, until I hear Landon's ringtone and make a mad dash for it.
I've only spoken to him twice since he's been gone. And while it's probably my fault because I said I wanted space before he left, it still hurts that he's been so distant.
Can you really blame him?
Guilt plucks on my heartstrings as I bring the phone to my ear. “Hey—”
“Breslin, I need you to listen to me,” Landon says and my heart jumps to my throat.
“What's going on? Are you okay?”
“I'm fine.” There's a long pause before he says, “But Asher's dad is in the hospital. It's bad, Bre. Real bad.”
My hand cups my mouth. It goes without saying that I don't particularly like the man, but Asher must be freaking out right now. “That's horrible.”
“I know,” he says. “I'm trying to get on the next available plane back but there aren't any for a few hours. And even then, it's still over an eight-hour flight.” He exhales sharply. “I need you to go with him to the hospital.”
I stand up and begin pacing. I'm pretty sure I'm the last person that should be there considering our last conversation. Heck, I'd probably slam the door in my face if I were him. Not to mention the fun fact that his family hates me.
“Landon, I don't think—”
“I know you and him have issues,” he shouts. “I get it, Bre. I know there's a lot of shit that we all have to work out. But right now, he has no one. His mother is on some cruise, Preston isn't picking up his phone, and I can't be there until tomorrow. Please, Breslin, put all the bullshit aside because he needs one of us.”
“Okay,” I whisper. I snatch my keys off the dresser before I can talk myself out of it. “I'm going over to his dorm room now. I'll text you when we get there.”
“Thank you,” he says, relief filling his voice. “I love you.”
I open my door and lock it behind me. “I love you, too.”
With shaky hands, I hang up and knock on Asher's door. When he doesn't open it after my second knock, I yell, “It's Breslin. Open the door for me, Asher.”
A moment later it swings open and he stands there, his expression completely shut down.
That is until I launch myself at him and he hauls me into his arms.
I wrap my limbs around him and he holds me so tight it hurts to breathe.
“I don't know what to do,” he says, burying his face into my neck. “I don't know what I'm supposed to do.”
I run my fingers over his head, attempting to soothe him. “First, you're going to take a deep breath.” I ease back and look at him, cupping his face in my hands. “And then we're gonna drive to the hospital together, okay? No matter what happens, you will get through this and I'll be right by your side.”
When I motion for him to put me down, I reach for his hand, holding it firmly in mine as we walk out the door.