CHAPTER 9

 

One Year Ago—Pop Quiz Fail

 

Charis: If you were stuck on a plane with nothing to read, what would you do? Oh, and this is a nonstop flight from New Highland to Europe, so we're talking at least nine hours. And sleeping is not a valid answer.

Asher: Are you going to Europe?

Charis: Of course not. This is a hypothetical scenario.

Asher: Right. Why would I think maybe you'd ask about a real trip? You're all about studying airplane behaviors from afar. Fuck if you'd ever board a real jetliner.

Charis: Listen, you, I don't study airplane behaviors…is that even a thing?

Asher: You tell me.

Charis: Sometimes you can be very sweet to be with. And then there are times like these. Come on. If you were stuck on a plane…

Asher: I assume I'm in first or business class.

Charis: Sure. Whatever you usually do on a business trip.

Asher: I'd watch the first two Terminator movies.

Charis: No, I mean if you can't watch video or get online or anything.

Asher: You didn't say that.

Charis: I'm saying it now. Why are you smiling?

Asher: Kiddo, what I'd do for nine hours on a transatlantic flight my momma taught me not to brag about.

Charis: No! You don't mean—

Asher: If I get to select a pretty woman to join me in my cabin, I'm all set. Hey! Go gentle on that rib, you're fucking worse than Karl. You asked.

Charis: You'd do…on a plane? Seriously, is there even a modicum of privacy? Wait, you mean the restroom…no? Anyway, remember we're talking nine hours. You couldn't possibly…for the whole nine hours.

Asher: So young. So naive. Worry not, my good child. One day you will come to me for wisdom on these matters and I will make you wise. But I can't do it alone, it must come from you, when you are ready.

Charis: Huh.

 

Asher

 

TURNS OUT I'D UNDERESTIMATED MEL and her powers of gossip. By dinner time, I'd received a series of texts and emails, peppered with about a hundred emojis, most of them from family.

 

Winona: Aw bro. Did I see this coming or did I see this coming? Aura wasn't right for you. Glad you saw the light and ditched the bitch. Surprise birthday party for Hunt coming up. Tres convenient. Will populate with prospies waiting in line. (Y) [thumbs-up emoji]

 

Douglas: WTF? I thought Aura was TPW. When I get BIT it's UN me ANOTT. [translation: What the fuck? I thought Aura was the perfect woman. When I get back in town, it's you and me, a night on the town.]

 

Ryanna: :( Poor you. ((( ))) (U) Don't worry, there are other fish in the sea! I know Charis will cheer you up! LOVE from Seattle ;) [frownie face, hugs, broken heart, winkie face—and what was my sister implying about Char?]

 

Karl: Heard about your girlfriend. Talk to Charis yet re: the good news?

 

I stared at Karl's message in exasperation. Did every fucking body think my severed relationship meant I'd go straight to Charis? I mean I had in a sense, but…

 

Joel: Where are you? I've got two Gaeng Daengs here.

 

Now we were talking. I texted him back:

 

Asher: I'm at Sloane's. Can you pick up a third for her?

Joel: Sure and I'd better get a Pad Thai too. That woman can eat.

 

I smiled. She sure could.

At the thought of protecting my dinner from her invading hands, my spirits lifted, just a bit.

 

"HOW YOU DOING, CHARIS," JOEL boomed past my shoulder when I opened the door. He scanned the room, then glanced back at me with a question in his eyes.

I tried to pluck the bags out of his hand and failed. "She's not here."

He frowned and bumped past me. "If she's visiting her folks, how did you get in?"

"Key."

"How'd you get a key?"

"I water her plants when she's away." I grabbed for the bags again, but he swung around and dumped them onto Charis's black counter, crowding me out.

"If she's away why'd you ask me to get her food?" He crossed his arms in challenge.

"She'll be here." I was confident she would—eventually. I mean, where the fuck else would she go? Mr. Fiancé's place?

Mr. Fiancé. The motherfucker.

I made another grab for the bags, but no luck. Joel is an older brother, himself, and as such has Powers. I crossed my arms, because the rule is you never let them see you drooling. But damn, I was starving. I'd just worked out my aggression toward Sir Asshole Husband-to-be on the squash court—glowering at every guy there, I might add.

"If she's not home now, but will be eventually, then she doesn't need her plants watered," Joel reasoned. "Ergo, the question becomes why are you here?"

In case it's not obvious, I tend to attract logic factories for friends.

"Never mind that." Even if it was a damn good question.

I began unloading containers.

"I'm selling you out if Char calls the cops on us." Joel pointed. "Hold on, punk. Your beef, my chicken, her shrimp."

That was all we said for a while. Joel isn't much of a talker.

He's two years my senior, finishing up his Electrical Engineering degree. His life goal is to work in Batavia with the particle accelerators. Well, why not? We all have goals. But then he took a summer internship at Fermilab and learned his degree in quantum physics got him shit without an EE background.

At that point lesser mortals might have been deterred by the funding challenges, but Joel is a single-minded bastard and went on for his master's. We met in Signal Processing class a couple of years ago and now we're both on track to finish at the same time.

"How's she been?" he said at the end of his meal, swiveling on Charis's stool and locking his hands behind his head.

I was helping myself to Charis's soft drinks. "How's who been?"

"Aura, who else?"

"Ah." I waited until I'd guzzled half the bottle to answer him. "Yeah, so me and her, we're history."

His eyes widened, and he shook his head slowly.

Aside from his brown skin and close-cut hair, Joel is a lot like me. He's built about the same, shoe size, shirt size, everything. His story is a lot like mine, too; he used to be a certified nerd, once upon a time. Like me, he morphed around sixteen, only in his case, it was from kayaking and swimming on the other side of the Pass.

Today when people see us together, two big athletic-looking guys, they assume we wouldn't know a Gaussian density distribution from a basketball.

Personally, that suits me fine. I'd prefer not to have my business interests come up in social situations, as I always get a stream of messages I have to field when that happens, mostly from people wanting to suck my cock. I get it, you need a job, but I'm not a fucking corporation.

As for Joel, he's ruler in the realm of relationship phobia. Women tend to fuck him first and not bother asking questions later, assuming he has nothing in his pretty head to say. Which suits him fine. He's incredibly jaded and cynical.

I knew he wouldn't be even a little surprised at my breakup.

I sighed. "Don't say it."

He didn't need to. His expression said it all. After his first introduction to Aura, he bluntly proclaimed himself not a fan. He wagered I'd throw in the towel before we graduated. I'd taken that action, fully planning to buy her jewelry with my winnings.

"You were right. I owe you three hundred."

"Say that again." He cupped his ear. "Riiight. What a sweet sounding word. I believe the phrase I used was 'oil and water.'"

I grinned, conceding his win. "You nailed it. Twenty years and we couldn't emulsify."

"Lessee, that's three hundred…plus fifty for the food."

"Why should I pay for the food?"

"As interest for being a fool."

"Nah, I get credit for owning it." I nabbed his uneaten spring roll.

"You don't seem too crushed."

"I'm not. It was long overdue. For some reason everyone seems to think I should spend spring break bawling my eyes out. What are you up to? Off to see your family in Seattle?"

"I'll spend a few days fishing in the San Juans with my grandpa. The rest of the time I'll be studying. You want to come?"

"No, I'm sticking around. Maybe I'll work on the house." I narrowed my eyes. "So you tell me, how's Charis been?"

"Who knows?" He shrugged. "Last time I saw her was fall quarter."

I breathed a silent sigh of relief. He wasn't Mr. Marriage.

Great. One down, just 15,000 of the student body to go.

Who the hell was Charis's as-of-yet unidentified fiancé?

Maybe the answers were closer than I thought. Right then the front door opened.

She was home.

I managed to act casual, calling out "hey" with Joel. Sloane halted, then strolled to the counter, letting her backpack slide off and standing with her arms akimbo.

I hadn't seen her since last night. In that bulky black coat, with her cheeks flushed, windblown hair sparkling with melting snow, she looked like a baby chipmunk dressed in a bear outfit.

No siren here.

I felt myself relaxing. Everything was going to be fine. Maybe yesterday's lunacy had been just that. Maybe everything would go back to normal now.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"No complaining, now. We come with bribes." I waved at the countertop.

"I came with bribes." Joel head-gestured me."He came with nothing. Hello, Charis, how's it going with you? Sorry for the breaking and entering bit."

She blinked at him; when Joel smiled and used that deep tone of voice in that lazy way, women did that. I went around the counter, determined to out-smile him.

"I brought Pad Thai and shrimp curry," Joel was going on. "All for you."

"I formally forgive you, and bless all your progeny with good fortune," she told Joel. To me: "I thought you'd be at a bar, drinking off your hangover with everyone."

"Hangover's gone. And Doug's out of town and Winona's spiffing up her place for the party and I don't know what Karl's up to." I'd told her all this in my texts, naturally—texts she hadn't bothered to return.

"Well, I still have a hangover." She grimaced. "My head feels like someone's swinging a baseball bat inside it."

"I'm not surprised." My smile disappeared. She'd just shrugged off her flannel-lined coat, revealing an oversized tan sweater and loose-fitting chinos. Completely non-alluring clothes.

Still not a siren.

Then why was my breath catching and my dick trying to pop up like a jack-in-the-box? What did I care if she smelled like snow and oranges or her lips were rosy pink and she was within touching distance…

Fuck. I wasn't drunk. She wasn't drunk. My heartbeat thundered in my ears anyway.

I wanted to grab her. Smash her against me. See the surprise in her eyes. See how fast I could warm her up.

Conclusion: The whole thing hadn't been some crazy aberration.

"You're scowling at me," she said. "Why are you scowling? You never scowl. Your face is permanently fixed in a smile."

"He's not," Joel said. Then: "Wait, he is."

So I said it. What was the point in beating around the bush?

"Sloane, what the hell do you mean, you're getting married?"

 

"'I'M STARVING' IS NOT AN ANSWER," I informed her coldly.

"But I am. Woh nah litruly shtahving but ree uhgree," Charis said with her mouth full. I was leaning on the other side of the counter, my chin propped on my fist, watching her avoid my eyes and shovel food down her throat.

Which action, by the way, I found mesmerizing. Yup, seems I'd missed watching this girl stuff her face like food was going out of style these last few months. I found it refreshing after watching Aura pick at her food meal after meal.

And I wondered if she threw herself into everything with such passion.

A woman doesn't always make love like she eats, but usually. Aura enjoys the fuck out of food but wouldn't admit it for the world. Similarly, she acts cool and calm, but in bed she's a ravenous gourmand.

Was. Past tense.

And Charis? What was she like in bed?

All right, that did it. Now I couldn't help but try to visualize her naked as I looked at her. Usually I'm pretty good at X-ray vision, but damn, it's hard with Sloane. It's all those layers working against me.

She went through most of the curry and a quarter of the Pad Thai before sliding off the stool and flopping down on the floor.

"Thanks. Oh, my, that hit the spot."

"Welcome." Joel was now sprawled on the sofa deep into his phone, not paralleling my fascination with Charis's eating habits in any way.

While my thoughts were zinging around. It hit the spot? And which spot would that be, pretty girl? Tell me more about hitting your spots.

Right, Norrell, you're going off the deep end.

But seriously, was it only eating she did uninhibitedly? Mama loved having her over for meals due to her effusive love of food.

But in the sack…did she fuck like the sale on fucking ended tomorrow? Rush through it, or savor every little sensation? Was she quiet and sweet as she came or did she lunge at an orgasm like she lunged at spring rolls?

I wondered so hard what her banging style was that my cock hurt.

Completely oblivious to my fantasies, my innocent friend drew her legs up and rested her cheek on her knees. A common pose that made her look like a child.

Usually.

Today it just made me want to unfold her and lay her out and look at her. See her. See her as she was now to me.

I went over and squatted down next to her. "Hi."

"Uh, hi?" She was looking off to the side, but slanted a quick peek at me.

So she was aware of me.

Interesting.

I let my gaze wander deliberately up and down her body. Because that's what you do when your cock turns you into an idiot.

And suddenly my hand was under her chin, tilting it up to get her to meet my stare.

Her eyes grew huge. What the frigging fuck are you doing? shouted my brain. Shut up, this is critical, huffed my cock.

"Where's your ring?" I demanded.

She didn't answer or move. To me she looked a little pale.

"Um, I don't have one yet?"

With her knees scrunched up and her hair all wild, it was easy to forget the age barrier between us. It killed me that I'd let something so insignificant stop me for so long…just because Charis insisted on thinking of herself as an older sister.

That habit was going to end starting now.

"So what's up with you, Asher?" she said a little too loudly.

Yes, definitely aware of me.

I sat back, releasing her. "I'm not the one under interrogation here, Sloane. You don't announced a fucking engagement and then drop the subject and pretend it doesn't exist."

Her head jerked back just as Joel's popped up.

"I don't?" she said, and Joel said, "Engagement?"

My voice carried grim accusation. "Sloane's engaged to be married."

Joel was less excited by this news than my earlier bombshell about my breakup. "Cool. Congrats." He slanted me a sidelong look.

"Thanks!" Charis threw him a grateful smile.

"You must be excited. When's the big day?"

"A week from Saturday. You know, I guess I am kind of excited, actually."

Kind of? What bullshit was this?

Then her answer registered.

My heart skipped a beat, and then my blood started to boil. "The fuck it's next Saturday. Thanks for the notice." And where the hell is my invitation? my glare said.

Her smile turned wan, her gaze sliding away. "Sorry."

I crossed my arms. "And she hasn't thought fit to mention who the dude is. If he even exists. Which I'm beginning to have serious doubts about."

"Ah-hah. I get it now." Joel regarded me, amused.

"What?" I demanded.

"I get why you've been hanging out here. You wanted to catch him in the act."

"The act?" Charis sounded mystified. "What act?"

"Of being engaged to you," he explained patiently.

"Normally I consider you decent to hang with," I told him coolly.

His eyes widened. "Oh, hey, did I say something wrong?" Like he didn't know he'd just exposed my spying intentions to the world. "I mean you obviously came here hoping to find out more ab—"

I grabbed his ankle and knocked him off the sofa, being considerate enough to snatch his phone as it went flying through the air. With calm composure, he swung me by the arm, actually lifting me a few inches—being considerate enough to make sure my head avoided the coffee table. Though I wasn't sure if that was out of care for my noggin or the furniture.

Charis shrieked and jumped on both of us.

And what had started as a simple tussle was now mayhem, with the three of us entangled and we possessors of the Y chromosome hampered severely by having to avoid knocking out the double X-er. Not that she seemed aware we were gentling it up—she went all out on us. On me, actually. The zeal with which she tackled me was something new.

Meanwhile, Joel was laughing maniacally and I was growling—only half kidding as I tried to punish my betrayer. Everything stopped when I found myself twisted half onto my back, my chest pinned by Charis's palm. She was crouched over me, breathing hard, a leg hooked over one of mine, looking pink-faced, exasperated, and flustered.

I gazed slowly from her hand to her face, my grin fading.

"You! Asher! What the fuck!" she demanded.

"You," I mimicked, and then my voice deepened. "Charis. What. The. Fuck."

We stared at each other.

"Riiiight."

That was Joel. The next moment he was detangled from our Twister game and on his feet. "Cheerio, you two. Have fun."

I barely noticed him go. I saw Charis give him a little wave and try to rise.

Before she could escape my clutches, I grabbed her and pulled her back down toward me, so low her breath washed over my face. I noticed that her mouth, while primly thin-lipped, was also wide, soft-looking, and moist. I fought the urge to pull her down the extra few inches and learn the taste of that mouth.

I half expected her to yell at me to let go of her arms, but no.

She was as frozen as I was.

"Who is he?" I demanded. "Well? And I can't believe you didn't tell me—your supposed best friend—" I enunciated all the consonants—"that you were dating someone." Unfair tactics to play the platonic card at this particular moment, but I went there.

She seemed to deflate and mumbled something I didn't catch.

"What was that?"

"I said, you were unavailable at the time."

"Yeah, well I'm available now. So tell me. Do I know this fiancé of yours?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, you do. In fact he was going to tell you himself."

A sick feeling twisted in my gut. So I knew the bastard. My God, who could it possibly—

"It's your brother, Karl."