CHAPTER 33

 

 

Six Months Ago—The Crunch

 

Charis: There is no such thing as courage.

Asher: Oh, yeah?

Charis: Listen, no, really, there's no such thing.

Asher. I heard you. Was I arguing?

Charis: But there isn't. Courage doesn't exist.

Asher: Hold on. I just have one more problem set…okay. What were you saying? No, I seriously was listening, I swear. Courage doesn't exist. It doesn't.

Charis: Asher…

Asher: All right, all right. What's that you say, Madam? Courage not exist? By what reasoning? Defend your claim!

Charis: Thanks. Ahem. So, if you act fearless, that's not courage, that's just luck and stupidity. Like the other day when you dashed into the street to catch that football.

Asher: Wait, are you trying to pick a fight?

Charis: Ha. No, it's when you do something you're scared of doing, that's what everybody means when they call it courage.

Asher: Okay, right.

Charis: But as soon as you do something you're scared of, you've, like, instantly transformed it. Because the result defines the act.

Asher: Eh…how's that work?

Charis: Well, see, there are two possible outcomes. One, your "act of courage" results in your getting your ass kicked, in which case you weren't courageous, just a foolhardy idiot. Only your mother'll call it courage. But to nobody was it a virtue, which courage totally is.

Asher. Go on.

Charis: Are you sleepy? Or just bored?

Asher: I pulled an all nighter, remember? Go on, Sloane. I'm listening.

Charis: Okay, so then let's say the best possible outcome happens. You faced the dragon, put out the fire, whatever. And the scary stuff just…flits away. Floats out of existence. It's like the fear never existed. Everything's confetti and applause now. But you can't have courage without fear by definition. Ergo, it doesn't exist after the fact.

Asher: Why does this not seem profound to me?

Charis: I'm working up to something here, maybe. So there you are, you've won, but only in that teeny, tiny moment were you both afraid and brave, i.e., courageous. And yet…getting to that tiny moment…people live their whole lives and never get there. There's tons and tons of fear and cowardice. But courage? Such moments are so infinitesimal as to be negligible. Even if you take all the courage from all the battles in all of history and add it all up, it would probably fit into a shot glass.

Asher: Gotcha. What are you afraid of, Sloane?

Charis: Oh, I guess, getting the five pound bag. What if I don't like the lime flavor? That's forty-five bucks I'm out. What was that?

Asher: I said I think you should do it. I'll eat them if you don't.

Charis: Really? But you don't even like pistachios.

Asher: If it helps you to take the plunge…

Charis: I know I'm being ridiculous here. I mean it's just yucky pistachios I'm afraid of, not the world coming to an end.

Asher: It's okay, Char. Seriously, I get it. I've got your back. I will live on this shit for a week if necessary. For you.

Charis: Maybe courage does exist.

Asher: You're actually buying them? You'd test our friendship like that? Aw, dammit.

Charis: Ew. They have chili and garlic in them. Never mind.

Asher: Thank fuck.

 

Asher

 

I WANTED TO GET MY GIRL the moment I saw her lurking over there with Joel. If I wasn't mistaken, she was having just as lousy a time as I was. Maybe while I'd been relegated to Asher's Room of Doom, she'd been learning her lesson. Crime doesn't pay.

She did look chastised. And it served her right.

Because denying what we were was a fucking crime.

I tilted my head to indicate the babes getting all up in my face, then sent her an eye message. This is all your fault, sweetness.

She bit her lip. She got the message, all right, unless you have some other explanation for her spilling her plate all over her legs.

It was painful to watch her try to brush the food off her dress with one of those useless lacy doily-napkins. I started to push through the babes and head over, but then my man Joel went to fetch her a towel, and a red-nailed hand suddenly curled around my forearm.

"Well, hello there, I don't believe we've been introduced. I'm Elianna Shuman."

I glanced down at the sultry brunette. "Ash," I said curtly. "You'll want to get those scratches cleaned up." Then I walked away.

I was being rude, to her and to the other women, whom I'd barely acknowledged. Definitely not like me. Yet it wasn't them I was pissed at. It was Sloane.

I'd just seen Hunt sidle up to her and make his move. That was bad enough, but then Sloane dared—she actually dared— to kiss him on the cheek. Hell, no.

Fuck if I wasn't going to tie that girl up tonight. If there ever was a night to get kinky, this was it. Would she go for it? Maybe I could convince her with my mouth buried between her legs…

"You okay, man?"

It was my cousin Nate, slapping me on the back. I remembered my shirt and shrugged it back on without bothering to button it.

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?"

"Karl's gotten himself engaged to your ex."

"Mm, old news," I said. "I was there when it happened."

"No shit. You could have knocked me over with a feather. Damn, she looks fine, doesn't she?"

"Aura?"

"Who? No, she just left with your brother. You didn't realize?"

I'd sort of noticed but not really noticed, noticed. No big surprise. The way she'd been acting up, Karl would have taken her away to cool off. I had the feeling he'd be doing a lot of that in the foreseeable future.

"No, I meant Charis over there."

My gut clenched. "Sloane looks beautiful."

"No kidding. I didn't know she had tits."

Would it be revealing too much if I slugged him?

But he went on, "Tell me…because I have to wonder…dude, did you ever think maybe one day, you and her might…you know…"

"Yeah," I growled. "I've thought about it."

"Yeah?"

Slowly I turned to look at Nate. My cousin is this big, burly, affable giant. He was scratching behind his ear and giving me this innocent, dopey grin.

"What's going on?" I said. "What are you up to?"

"Who, moi? Listen, I'm just saying, a guy has to wonder. Men and women being friends, how do they not, you know…"

"Not fuck?"

"Yeah."

They don't.

I almost said it.

But this was Sloane's show. It wasn't my place to fix her fuckup.

"I have no idea. And why do I have the feeling I'm part of a great big conspiracy right now?" I mused.

"I'm hurt, Ash. Would I be involved in something like that?"

I snickered. "Who is it? Mel? Ry? Mom?"

He sighed. "Just Winnow and Mel, far as I know. They have a long-term plan. Look, it's for your own good. Somebody has to do something. You've been panting after that girl for how long now? You might consider boning her just to get her out of your system."

"Don't talk about Sloane like that," I snapped. "If Winnow's so hot for me to get with Sloane, why the Room 'o Babes?"

"That's just camouflage, to get your goat and…hot damn."

I followed the direction of his gaze…and stilled.

Sloane was walking straight up to us, her eyes fixed on me.

I need to point something out here. Sloane is the queen of casual. She meanders. She pauses. She gets distracted. Or the opposite—she races. Jumps. Lunges.

My girl is graceful, don't get me wrong, but she doesn't do this slow siren walk. She doesn't sway with her eyes on you, shimmery fabric slipping over her thighs while she weaves through a crowd. She doesn't…

Holy shit. Now she was close enough for me to see the expression on her face.

Intent, and a little wild.

Sexy wild.

Two things happened at once: I caught my breath and my cock blew up. Result, severe dizziness.

I sucked in a life-saving breath.

Now she was close enough that I could see how pale she actually was under those red spots in her cheeks. That cute chin was up. She licked her lips.

Then she scoped me out.

Once again.

She scoped. Me out.

Her gaze traveled from the top of my head to my eyes to my chest to my crotch and then down my legs to my feet and all the way up again.

In the background I heard "Hoyah" from Nate and enough of a stir from the people around me to know I wasn't the only one noticing this display.

In fact, I'd bet the farm on the stage being all ours.

"Hi," she said when she reached us. Not that she spared even a glance at Nate.

She only had eyes for me. Her chest was rising in little jerks. Her hands were fisted.

I recognized the signs of panic.

"Hi, girl," I said huskily. I did my best not to stare blatantly at her tits. I felt like half the air in the room had been sucked into my lungs to supply oxygen to my dick.

"Um…" Her gaze flickered to the floor and then up again. She was noticeably not looking anywhere but at me and the floor. Back and forth. Floor, me. Who would win?

Then she pressed her lips together, shut her eyes and scrunched up her nose like I'd once seen her do when she was about to stick her hand into a bowl of "newt eyeballs", a.k.a. boiled eggs, on Halloween.

And her hand came up and she put it right. On. My. Fucking. Chest.

She cleared her throat, then said in a loud, carrying voice, "Um…hi, baby. How…was the game? In there. I mean…you didn't lose. It appears. So that's good, because it's good to, uh, to win. Um. I love you."

Then she stood up on tiptoe, put her hands on my cheeks, and pulled me down to her.

Yes, my jaw did fall to my feet.

Yes, I stood there like a complete bonehead as she kissed my mouth.

Claimed me.

In front of the whole damned world.

My sweet girl.

Her moves, her words…they did what you'd expect.

They shattered me.

I heard my family, my relatives, my friends, laughing, shouting, hooting. So too must she have. She ignored them, just kept kissing me with lips that trembled while I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. Because…

Fuck, you know. A shitload of sappy reasons. Love, gratitude…pride may have been one.

Let's just say I was no longer even a little pissed.

Finally I got the presence of mind to bend and heft her into my arms so her legs flew around my hips. I started to kiss her back when it occurred to me I was late to the party. I broke away just long enough to pant, "Me, too, beautiful. You know I'll always love you."

And the catcalls and whistles became deafening.

I gave them all the finger and turned my back, not stopping what I was doing. I mean, for fuck's sake. This crew is so fucking rude. You'd think they'd show some discretion when a guy is in the moment with his woman.