Chapter 47 (Asher)
“Fuck,” I mutter, shoving my hand into the snow that's piled up outside. Somewhere between the fourth or fifth punch, I split my knuckles open on that shithead’s skull.
“Are you okay?” Breslin questions, her lower lip trembling. “That's your throwing hand.”
I maneuver my fingers around. “At worst it's a sprain.”
“Maybe we should go back to the hospital and make sure,” she says but I shake my head.
“No. The NFL looks into your medical records. Last thing I need is them seeing this shit. I'll be fine.”
It's only then that I notice the thick red mark around her neck, complete with finger indentations marring her delicate skin. It takes everything in me not to turn right back around again. Never in my life have I wanted to murder someone with my bare hands and drain the life out of them like I did before.
If it wasn't for the chattering of Breslin's teeth and the way she’s shivering, I'd be tempted to run right back and kick his face in.
Instead, I take my jacket off and hand it to her. “You left yours at the hospital. Take mine.”
She starts to decline but I'm not backing down. “You're shivering, Breslin. Take the fucking jacket.”
Reluctantly she slips it around her shoulders. When she pulls her keys out and heads for the car, I take them from her and slide into the driver's seat. “You're not driving in the middle of a blizzard.”
I expect her to argue with me but she stays silent as she gets into the passenger seat.
I start driving down the snow-covered road. “At this rate, it's going to take us twelve hours to drive back to Woodside instead of three.” When I make a left turn and the tires skid I say, “There's a hotel up the road. We can head back in the morning after the roads are plowed.”
I brace myself, preparing for the argument that I know is coming but she doesn't say a word so I take that as her agreement.
I lean against the headboard when I hear the water from Breslin's shower turn off.
She still hasn't said one word to me since we've been here, but I kind of expected it. Breslin's the ultimate paradox, because while she can argue until she's blue in the face and stand up for her convictions, she's never been good at processing her emotions in the aftermath of any kind of turmoil, and deep down inside; she hates confrontation.
Her go-to is to shut down until she's ready to speak again. It's something I absolutely hate, and yet something I can't help but understand.
When she walks out a moment later clad in nothing but a little white towel, I inhale deeply and force both my dick and heart not to react. Which is basically like telling the sun not to shine.
In other words...im-fucking-possible.
Her gaze lands on my bare chest and boxers briefly before venturing up to find my eyes. “Sorry, I...um. I don't have a change of clothes.” She stares down at the floor. “Obviously.”
I gesture to the nightstand where two brand new t-shirts are folded, one for her and one for me, courtesy of the guest shop downstairs.
“Thank you,” she whispers, making no move to pick hers up.
Instead, she walks over to the large window and draws back the curtain, staring at the snow that's falling.
“Looks like it's getting better out there—”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
My heart spasms in my chest with her question. I knew it was going to come to this sooner or later, but no matter how much I tried to prepare myself for it, I'm not. Not even a little.
I've spent years thinking about what I would say to Breslin if I ever got the chance, but nothing ever seemed right.
There's nothing I could say that would pardon me.
She turns to face me and the hurt in her eyes is enough to make me want to keel over. “We always told each other everything.”
“I did try to tell you.”
She keeps her eyes trained on mine, like she's seeing through my soul in the way that only she can.
Like she knows all the things that I don't want her to.
“For months he blackmailed you and you never said a word to me. For months you held my hand, kissed me, and told me you loved me while looking into my eyes...but you never once told me what he was doing to you.”
A line forms between her brows. “When you finally did tell me what was going on, it was a twisted version of the truth. Almost like you wanted me to leave you, like you purposely pushed me away.” A tear falls from the corner of her eye. “You told me about your sexuality, but you never told me about Kyle threatening you. You never told me the real truth that could have saved us. Because you didn't want to save us...did you?”
And there it is in all its ugly glory. The thing I never wanted her to know.
I didn't tell her the truth because I was scared or because I couldn't find the right words.
I didn't tell her, because for one single, solitary moment in my life...I wasn't selfish.
I wanted Breslin to leave and never look back. Because I loved her enough to let her go.
I just didn't realize the giant hole in my heart that her absence would cause when she did. And by the time I chased after her...it was already too late. She was gone.
“You deserved better than me,” I start to say and she grimaces.
“That's a cop out.”
“It's not,” I say sharply. “You deserved better than some sexually confused teenager who had no idea what the fuck was going on in his head or his dick.”
I stand up. “The way I saw it back then, I was going to hurt you sooner or later. Either that, or I was going to resent you for something you couldn't possibly understand.” I lift a shoulder. “In the end, it was easier to go along with Kyle's blackmail because it was the punishment I thought I deserved for ruining us and having feelings that I shouldn't be having.”
Her face falls flat. “No one deserves to be punished for their sexuality. It's not your fa—” She catches herself mid-sentence and gives her head a shake. “What I mean is, you shouldn't be ashamed of being bisexual.”
I hook my finger under her chin, forcing her to look at me. “That's what you think now, but what about then?”
She wretches out of my grip. “I left you because you said you cheated on me with Kyle, not because—”
“Bullshit.” I don't mean to be so harsh but I can't help it, this shit has built up for years between us and it's finally coming to a head. “Would you really have been able to accept the fact that I had the urge to sleep with guys back then? Would you have been okay with it?”
Her mouth falls open and I know I've got her. “I don't know, maybe not. I'd like to think in time that I would have. Obviously I accept it now.” She presses her lips into a line and swallows. “But you didn't give me a chance to accept anything back then, Asher.”
Before I can tell her that she's right, she jabs a finger in my chest. “Instead, you took me to prom, took my virginity, and then told me you were gay and that you cheated on me with Kyle.” Another tear falls. “You broke me into a thousand different pieces and demolished me. Do you have any idea how much I loved you? Any fucking idea how much?”
I grab her by her shoulders, need, lust, and despair are pummeling into me like a category five hurricane. “I do, because multiply what you feel for me times infinity and it wouldn't even come close to how much I love you.”
There is nothing in the world that I wouldn't do or give up for her. Hell, if she asked me to physically rip out my beating heart and offer it to her on a silver platter so she could feed it to vultures, I would.
I'd do anything to make this right again, but the only thing I can do right now is tell her everything I feel for her—and hope she can find it in her heart to forgive me for being the monumental asshole that I am.
She turns her head away in disgust and my body knots up at the loss of our connection, it's like she's filleting me open, leaving me vulnerable and exposed.
“That can't possibly be true,” she says. “Because if you loved me you would have chosen me. You would have chosen the truth.”
“I did what I thought was best, Breslin. I—”
I wish I could take it back.
Her eyes squeeze shut. “God, I hated you so much. I spent years despising you for what you did and—”
“I deserved your hate. It's what I wanted you to feel when you left.”
I don't want her blaming herself for any of this or apologizing to me when it was my fault.
She opens her eyes. “I thought about you all the time. I used to wonder what I did, why I wasn't enough for you. And then when I thought about all the reasons why I wasn't—I used to cry myself to sleep wishing that I was smarter, more interesting, skinnier, prettier, and that my family life wasn't so fucked up. Hell, I even wished that I was a different gender. I wanted nothing more than to be what you needed me to be because I loved you so much. More than anything or anyone.”
Her confession stabs through my heart. I go to grab her again but she spins around, her soft sobs fogging up the window.
“Breslin—”
“No. I don't want your pity.”
I take a step closer, pinning her between my body and the window, making sure she can't go anywhere because she needs to hear this. “Good, because you don't have it.”
I sweep her damp hair to the side and trace my lips along her earlobe. “I fucked up, I know that now. I messed things up with us so badly that I don't deserve your forgiveness, no matter how much I want it. But baby, you need to know that despite my mistakes...there is nothing wrong with you.”
I run my lips over my favorite freckles lining her shoulder. “From the second we collided in that hallway, I wanted you, I needed you, I craved you.” I press a kiss to her skin and she shivers. “The moment you opened your mouth, I knew I was going to fall head over heels in love with you and I was right.”
I inhale her sweet scent like she's my drug. “You have my heart, Breslin. I might have let you go, but I made damn sure you took that with you when you left, because it doesn't belong to anyone else but you. Every single part of it is yours.”
Including the part that belongs to someone else now.
When she doesn't say a word, I sink my teeth into her skin, branding her flesh before soothing the spot over with my tongue. “I'm sorry I hurt you, so fucking sorry. It's a mistake I'll always regret. But I'm not sorry about us crossing paths again, or for making you mine back then.”
Or making her mine now. Because she is mine. She knows it as much as I do. She can't escape what we have any more than I can.
No matter what happens between us, we'll always find our way back to one another. Regardless of who gets in the way.
And even though freeing both her and Landon so they can lead a happy life together is the right and noble thing to do in this situation...I won't.
The fact of the matter is, I'd rather bleed my heart out on this shitty hotel carpet than ever live without her.
We're all trapped together, entwined in a way that no one else can ever understand. One is under my skin, the other is in my bones.
Question is—what is she going to do about it now that the truth—all of it—is out there? Leaving no ifs, ands, or buts between us anymore.
Because the way I see it, she only has one of two choices. Either she chooses me...or she chooses both of us. Either way, I'm never letting her go again. I barely survived it the first time around.
Her palms flatten against the window. “I don't regret you either.”
Her voice is so faint that for a second, I think I imagined it.
My heart thuds against my ribs when she turns back around and faces me. Those green eyes are filled with so much sadness, but I see the love shining through.
“I'm so sorry, baby,” I say, cradling her face in my hands.
Another tear slips down her cheek and I catch it on my thumb. “Me too.”
We stand there staring at one another. The air between us is too thick with friction, making it hard to breathe.
“I love you,” I tell her, because it's the only thing that makes sense in this moment. The only thing I feel. “I love—”
Soft lips crash into mine and my heart tumbles over itself.
A groan tears out of me and I can't keep my hands off her now that her lips are on my skin, exactly where they should be. I want every part of her body, every square inch of her heart and soul.
I find the knot on her towel and toss the damn thing across the room, I don't want any barriers between us. I just want to devour and consume her until the day I take my last breath.
When I venture down, I can feel her heartbeat in her throat. I gently suckle the spot until her head lolls to the side and she cries out my name.
I ease back, watching her chest heave up and down with scattered breaths, uncertainty splashed across her face.
“Breslin, if you don't want this, you better tell me now because I won't be able to stop. I'm not that fucking strong.” I give her a smirk. “Or honorable.”
A flush of heat comes over my body and settles in my dick when her fingers find the waistband of my boxers and she tugs them down, freeing my aching erection. Christ, I'm so hard for her I'm liable to come at any second.
I reach for her hand and thrust into it, because I need her to know how much I want her. I don't want there to be any room for doubt inside her head. “See what you do to me?”
She licks her lips and swirls her thumb around the fluid weeping from my tip. I have to fight back a smile when it jerks and her cheeks flush. Fuck, she really has no idea what kind of impact she has on me. The way she makes my heart beat faster and slower at the same time. The way I yearn for her.
My gaze drops to her tight nipples that are longing to be sucked. I lift them into my mouth and take turns laving and pinching them until she fastens her grip and strokes me in one long glide, making my knees buckle.
When she starts to sink to the ground, my balls seize up so fast I have to pull away before I jet all over her fingers.
“Baby,” my voice comes out strangled and choppy. “If you do that, this is gonna end real fast.”
I can practically see the memory from years ago slash across her face and I silently curse myself. The last thing I want is to remind her of our past right now.
I motion to my erection that's throbbing and leaking. “I'm trying to hold on for as long as I can here, Breslin. But you're not making it easy.” I grab her hips and turn her toward the bed. “Have mercy on me.”
When she lands on the mattress with a soft plop, I slowly work my way down her body, taking my time, exploring every inch of her skin with my mouth.
“Asher.”
There's an impatient and pleading tone to her voice and I graze my teeth along her hip bones, causing her hips to buck off the bed. “Not yet.” I pry her thighs apart, baring her soft pink flesh to me. “I need to eat you first.”
With that, I bury my head between her legs, tasting her in one elongated swipe. Fuck, that's good. And just like a fiend, I'm back for more—dipping my tongue inside her, flicking that sweet spot that drives her crazy, and giving her pretty clit messy kisses as she rides my face and yanks my hair.
She trembles as she stares down at me. “Please, Asher.”
I take her clit between my teeth and she mewls, gripping the bed sheets. “Inside me,” she begs, her voice cracking with emotion. “Inside me.”
My heart beats like a drum as I crawl up her body and settle between her thighs, dragging my dick along her slit.
My throat works on a swallow and I bite back a groan. I'm a razor's edge away from being inside her and I'm losing every scrap of control.
Her eyes drop to my mouth that's damp with her juices. “Kiss me,” I taunt her, and when I stick out my tongue, she massages it with hers.
“See how good you taste?” I murmur and she repeats the movement, this time ending it with a little suck that goes straight to my groin before licking my chin.
She wraps her arms around my neck and hooks her legs around my waist, pushing the tip of my cock inside her. The swollen head beats against her warm slick flesh and my body thrums.
“Now, Asher,” she rasps and I drive the rest of the way inside her in one fluid motion. She clings to my shoulders and I slam back and rock into her again, pleasure spiking and coiling my insides.
I want to close my eyes and get lost in the moment, but there's no way I can take my eyes off of her. She's so beautiful she shines and I wouldn't miss this for anything.
I kiss the tear that falls down her cheek and my lungs freeze when she looks at me and says the words I've been dying to hear again. “I love you.”
I lean my forehead against hers. “I love you bigger.”
Tension in my limbs tightens and I reach between us and take her clit between my fingers, hoping like hell she follows me because I can't hold back.
I pump inside her one last time and she clenches around me, holding on to me with everything she has as she lets go. I come so hard my body shudders with the force and I collapse on top of her, burying my face into the crook of her neck. “I promise next time I'll last longer.”
A laugh escapes her and it's music to my ears. I can't help but lift my head and look at her again.
Her eyes are wide and her heart is galloping underneath me, and for a moment, I fear she'll say it was a mistake.
But when she smiles and it reaches her eyes, I know she feels it too.
What we just had...was the way it was always supposed to be between us.
And maybe, just maybe, somewhere between all the chaos and heartache, we were gifted our second chance.
The sound of my cell phone ringing wakes me out of a dead sleep and I curse.
At first, I think it might be the hospital, but when I see Landon's name flash across the screen I jump up out of bed. I stop to look back at Breslin who's still sleeping soundly before I make my way to the bathroom and bring the phone to my ear.
“Hey,” he greets on the other line.
The sound of his voice burns a trail over my heart. Fuck, I miss him. “Hey, rock star,” I say and he laughs, which only fuels the ache in my chest.
“Yeah, I don't know about all that.” He clears his throat. “Sorry for waking you but I wanted to tell you that I'm stuck on a three-hour layover. However, I should be at the hospital by early afternoon the latest.”
Shit. My heart pounds in my ears as I lower the lid to the toilet and sit. “Wow,” I say slowly, trying to find my vocal chords that are currently wound up like a ball of yarn. “Breslin told me you weren't able to catch a flight.”
“I know, I wasn't. I decided to go to the airport and wait it out, thankfully at the last minute, one opened up. I texted Breslin back a little while ago to tell her but she didn't answer.” He inhales a breath. “I know we haven't talked much over the last month and that's my fault, but I'm on my way. I'll be there, Asher.”
I lean down, resting my elbows on my knees, my heart spasming. I shouldn't even be surprised by this because that's who my boyfriend is.
Compassionate, caring...a good human being.
My polar opposite in almost every way.
I open my mouth to tell him—because I do have every intention of telling him—what happened, but then I clamp my mouth shut.
I'm not informing him about the events that transpired over the last few hours when he's between flights. It will drive him sick with worry...and rage. Not to mention, this is a conversation that needs to be had in person, not over the phone.
I scrub a hand down my face. “Look, uh. I can't wait to see you, but you don't have to come to the hospital.”
I hear him mutter a curse on the other line before he says, “I'm sorry, Asher. I wish I could have gotten there sooner—”
“No,” I interject, realizing how he interpreted my statement. “He's not dead.” I release a breath I wasn't aware I was holding. “Don't get me wrong, he's not exactly alive, but I can't bring myself to tell them to pull the plug. Preston can't do it, either. We decided it's best to let our mom make the decision when she gets home from her cruise.” I tap my fingers on the porcelain of the sink, trying to make sense of my conflicting feelings. “It just doesn't feel right, you know? Kind of like I'm playing God or some shit.”
“Yeah,” he says softly. “I get it.”
“Anyway, there's no point for me to be there round the clock given the grim outcome. Plus, the first day of classes are tomorrow and I feel like if I miss it because of him, it's just another thing that I let him have control over.”
“Totally understandable.”
Guilt settles in my chest with my next statement. “We would have been back tonight but there was a snowstorm. We decided to ride it out and wait until the roads were plowed before driving back to Woodside.”
I leave the implication of us being at a hotel together hanging in the air.
There's a long pause before he says, “Right. Smart thinking.”
“Yeah.”
“She sleeping?”
I don't know what to make of his tone now. It's not irritated or bitter...it's barren and devoid of any emotion which is so rare for him.
“I can wake her up if you want.”
“No, it's fine. Let her rest. In fact, you should probably get some sleep, too. I'll see you both tomorrow when you get back.” His voice drops to a whisper. “I love you.”
“I—” The line goes dead.