CHAPTER 3

Asher

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" I snapped.

I want to mention straight off that I don't usually greet my girlfriend that way. I smile and take her in my arms. I almost did it this time. She looked gorgeous enough to eat in that cotton-candy pink alpaca sweater. But I was still pissed at her for the airport fiasco.

This happens—I get angry and I want to fuck. I get tired and I want to fuck. I get sick and…you're getting the idea. Being a dude is awesome, the way fucking takes care of half my issues.

"You're angry," she declared. "I knew you were. I could hear it in your voice."

"Or the way I hung up on you," I said sarcastically. My desire to fuck was unfortunately fading fast.

"What is your problem, Ash? This is not like you. You're usually so happy. What did I do?'

I stared at her with disbelief. "You forgot I was out of town."

"What? I did too know you were gone. How can I not know? I missed you so much, lover. You should have told me when you were coming back."

"You had my flight info."

Tears sprang into her eyes. "Oh, Ash. I know what this is really about. This is about me not picking you up. You know I would have if you'd only asked me to. Why didn't you tell me you needed a ride? You need to communicate with me."

That wave of tiredness was returning. "Right."

Abruptly it didn't matter. All I wanted now was for finals to be over and spring break to start. I wanted to spend a week lolling around in bed with my girlfriend with maybe some family time thrown in. Because I fully intended to end my social exile very soon.

Oh, yes, I was seeing Sloane again, as soon as humanly possible. We'd kick back and—

"Ash! Are you listening to me? Open your eyes!"

My eyes flew open. Aura was looking up at me, her green ones alluringly at half mast. Damn, she was lovely. Under the towel, my cock stirred.

I spent a split second debating sleep and sex.

It was no contest, really.

TIME OUT. WE DID NOT, IN FACT, fuck here, but I need to tell you about my cock for a moment.

Cock is a driving force in my life. No joke. I have this theory that guys go through certain stages in life that mark how much we control our destiny.

Stage One: I can't control my cock.

Stage Two: I should control my cock.

Stage Three: I must control my cock.

Stage Four: How do I get back to Stage One again? (This stage, obviously, is not pertinent to any male in the Norrell line. Ask me about my grandpa and great-grandpa some time.)

The fact is, I lost my virginity at sixteen and I have not gone a month without fucking since. Sex is not optional for me. For a variety of reasons, which I may share later, keeping my life on track means keeping my cock happy.

End time out.

SO, GIVEN THAT AURA WAS MINE, I did what I usually did with her—I let my cock rule the day.

I kissed her, peeling off her clothes, and then stood back and soaked in the sight that never failed to get me hard—that incredible hourglass outlined in stretchy silk underthings.

I knew that in a few minutes, shit would be better. I'd lose myself in her pussy and forget everything for a while—this sorry-ass relationship, how fucking lonely I was, and most of all, I'd stop thinking about where I'd rather be right now.

Who I'd rather be with…

Forcing my mind away from That Person, I focused hard on my girlfriend's fantastic tits, and that's when I made my big, careless mistake.

"You have to be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," I said.

Fuck me, I spoke without thinking.

Because, you know, to my hopeful brain, she was. Aura was the woman every guy on campus wanted. The first year I was with her, dudes kept hitting me up for estimates of when I'd be through with her.

But to just blurt it out like that…it's asking for trouble and I knew it. Because Aura might be a knockout, but Aura is also the. Most. Insecure. Woman. Ever. Created.

Aura's been on a diet since she was eleven. Aura has a different take on her body than me. I see a heaven of luscious curves. She sees bloating and cellulite. She exercises twice a day and follows every dieting blog ever written. Even ones written in Russian. She uses an online translator.

Yeah, my girlfriend has deep issues.

I really should have known better. My only excuse—exhaustion. I wasn't thinking clearly. I shouldn't have been surprised when her response was to push me away and burst into tears.

Then began the meltdown, right there in my foyer.

She was fat and ugly and couldn't fit into her New Years Eve dress anymore. She hated herself and I was a fool if I wanted a person like her. I should go fuck someone skinny, like my friend Charis Sloane.

She said all that shit and added that I couldn't possibly want her, I was just flattering her, blinded by my cock, and I only fucked her because I'd want anyone with a pussy.

So basically, yeah, after three years of being mine, one impulsive compliment and she's calling me a liar and a cheat and an indiscriminate manwhore.

Again.

I mean, she'd done it before. Only it was louder, I was same-timezone-jet-lagged, and I was fed up.

"I do want you," I gritted out.

"You think you do, but how can you? Your body is perfect. You don't understand, you can't understand what it's like to have to diet all the time, Ash."

"Dammit, I keep telling you, you don't need—" I cut myself off, but it was too late. Even more than she hated compliments, she hated being told I was fine with whatever weight she was.

A glint appeared in her eye. "All right, I deliberately didn't tell you this, because I know how stressed you've been lately, and I was afraid it would make you upset, but…I saw your Charis the other day."

"Sloane?" I blinked. "You saw Sloane?"

"Yes, Charis Sloane, your best friend. I ran into her at the student center." Aura looked up at me, her eyes now glistening with tears. "I know you keep telling me she's a nice person, and you probably won't believe me, you always believe your weird friend over me. But she always acts snarky with me, and that day…that day she called me ugly. It's the truth, I swear. She said the word. I knew she hated me, but I never expected that kind of viciousness."

I was skeptical. "That doesn't sound like Char. Are you sure that's what happened?"

"Oh, she said it, all right. You. Are. Ugly. On purpose. To hurt me, Ash."

I appealed to the ceiling gods, because how can you take this shit seriously? "You know what I think of you. It shouldn't matter what anyone else fucking thinks."

She sniffed. "That's what you say. You say I'm beautiful, but Ash, that's just your opinion. I mean, if your Charis truly has nothing against me, why would she say it unless it was true? It has to be true! It is, oh, my God. I really am ugly! I'm so—fucking—disgusting, and I always have been, and inside you know it and everyone knows it and I can't trust anyone to tell me the truth!"

As she sobbed against me, one thought kept going through my head: They were right. They were all right. Aura's a bitch beyond all bitchhood. Why am I still with this woman?

Maybe you're thinking I was being harsh, cruel to take this attitude with an obviously troubled individual soaking my chest with her tears. Believe what you want. She was lying.

Sloane may not be Aura's biggest fangirl, but if there's one thing I know deep in my soul, it's that she doesn't hurt people like that.

Aura, though…

I wanted to shake her. Violence towards babes turns my stomach, but I was this close to making her shut up about Sloane.

Regarding Sloane: you don't know her, but you may have heard she says strange things from out in left field, so maybe you're on Aura's side. Maybe you think I should have felt sorry for the pain she was obviously suffering over this "insult."

I have five words for you.

Been there, fucking done that.

Not impressed.

All right, seven.

Aura's not the only one I know with weight issues. Just tally up the entire female half of my family. When are they not on diets? Back in high school, I bedded a couple of curvy girls. I made sure to admire them with all the words, since they acted like they needed a boost and I was all about giving it to them if they gave me their sweet, sexy pussies.

Women have a hard time with their bodies. I get it. That's what us guys are for. We show them how exquisitely fuckable they are.

Problem is, Aura cannot be convinced. She gets offended by dogs not licking her hand.

And now I was supposed to do my part in this routine. Protest that no other woman could ever compare with her. Then fuck her insensate and forget everything else, all the other reasons we didn't get along.

No matter how pointless it was.

No matter how harmful.

And that. That realization. This relationship is a fucking trainwreck. It destroys everything in its path.

That is when I basically snapped.

I was supposed to tell her she was perfect, over and over. And I almost did it, I almost fell into our pattern. But her smack talk about Charis was the last straw.

I let my hands fall away.

"Fine. Let's not fuck, then."

She gasped, then regrouped, getting a tear to spill from her eye. "See, I knew you didn't want to be with me, not really. If you really looked at me, you'd get it. Look at me, look at me, just look, Ash," she cried. "How can you want me?"

Well, I looked. Up and down, I looked at her. For once I did it objectively, without lust, without hope.

And what I saw was a person who was endlessly unhappy.

And I knew if I kept on with her, there was a 100% probability that I would be, too.

"I don't," I admitted. "I just want to fucking sleep."

"Oh, Ash," she breathed, "Do you realize what you just said? What that sounds like? How could you say you don't want me? How could you not be there for me now, exactly when I need you most?"

My jaw clenched. She needed me. Of course it didn't matter that I needed her.

You want the bare honest truth? She was absolutely right. I wanted to go to Charis, wanted it with an ache deep in my soul. My friend doesn't play games. She doesn't leverage sex. She doesn't leverage anything. Charis knows she's not a hottie and she doesn't give a shit.

What's more, Charis never doubts it when I tell her she's the best. She grins and says, back at ya.

And if I need something, she always comes through. Always. Just like I come through for her no matter what. We're a team that way.

I've known Sloane since I was a kid. We've always been friends.

We were friends when she was my babysitter. Oh, did I forget to mention she's four years older than me? Shocked? Well, she is.

We were friends when I got that crush on her at thirteen. She nipped it in the bud fast and we stayed friends.

We were friends when we met up again my first year in college.

And we've been besties almost as long as I've been dating Aura.

Our friendship may not be based on passion, on attraction, but it's special, dammit.

Aura doesn't know the meaning of being there for somebody. The closer we've gotten, the more she's taken.

As far as she's concerned, she's the center of a Ptolemaic universe that revolves around her.

It was now completely clear to me that this shit wouldn't end until I was as broken as my girlfriend was.

So you can see that by now I'd worked myself up to painting Aura Renaldi as a succubus, a Gorgon, a siren…go on and pick any classic female monster lethal to men and I'll knock fists with that.

Point is, I blew up…and burned the last bridge.