Thirteen
Porter
I was losing my game.
Fuck. I had no game where Asher was concerned.
I never knew what to say to her, and wasn’t that just a kick in the nuts?
All through high school, I had my share of girls. When Mo and I decided to date, sure, I was exclusive to her, but I always knew how to talk to a girl I was interested in. But with Asher, every time I thought I was getting somewhere, I realized I didn’t have a fucking clue.
I walked her into the hall, glad to see her lips were no longer tinged in blue. And even though I was sure I put it there, I was curious about the fire in her eyes.
When she gave me back my jacket, it was with a bit of pissy attitude I wasn’t expecting. Was she pissed at me? For what?
Girls.
You could never understand them. Even when you grew up with three of them.
At the round table where my family was to be seated, I draped my jacket over the back of my seat and pulled out the one next to me for Asher. Before she sat, I allowed my hand to drift up her back, just slightly—just enough for my hand to brush under the length of her hair and to feel that under her sweater, the back of her dress was cut low.
Really.
Fucking.
Low.
Asher’s shoulders squared when my fingers met bare skin, and as much as I knew I should take my hand away, I dared myself—dared her—to keep my hand on her. She looked over her shoulder at me and damn if there wasn’t a slight glare in her eyes.
And fuck me, but it made me want to laugh.
What was it with this girl?
I had the very distinct feeling that fighting with her would be the best time of my life.
***
“Dance with me,” I said, leaning over to Asher’s chair and whispering into her ear as an old nineties song faded into a classic ballad.
She turned her head to me and lifted her brows, saying nothing.
Dinner had been great. The speeches had been spoken. The first dance was danced.
All the while, Asher sat beside me with her small smile on her face, taking everything in. I couldn’t help but wonder what it was like to not have a family to call your own. Had she ever been to a wedding? And with the way she acted around my family…
What the hell kind of families had she lived with her whole life? There were times today that I watched her watching my family, complete awe on her face.
“Please,” I added when she didn’t say anything.
I watched as her eyes shifted between both of mine.
God, there was totally something here. I could feel it, and it was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I should have kept in touch with her after she left my place. I should have been more willing to press—to see where she would bend and just where she would call the stop.
There was slow, and there was nonexistent—and I was suddenly afraid that I had played the stop.
“Okay.” She pushed from the table and stood, taking off the dark sweater that had been on her shoulders all day. Before she turned away from me, I took in the colors decorating her arm. I knew they were there but for whatever reason, seeing them again was a shock to the system.
Not quite as much of a shock as her back when she turned away from me.
I knew her dress cut low. I knew just how low.
But seeing it was a completely different story.
The strapless dress she wore met just below her shoulders with a tiny-ass button and ribbon, before opening widely, exposing her spine. The fabric eventually met again just above the curve of her ass.
Goddamn.
Thank goodness the lights were low for the reception, because I was sporting major chub now. I walked behind her closely—because even though it was dark, there would be no mistaking the tent in my trousers to an onlooker, and hell, this was a family event—and I reached out to gently grab her hip when she stopped in an open spot.
I’d been so fixated on her back that I hadn’t been paying attention to our whereabouts, nearly colliding with her.
But hell, it was another feel of her.
Under the silk of her dress, I felt the firmness of her side. And if I slipped my hand around her, pulling her in close, eventually my hand would meet with the expanse of her bare back.
So I did.
Asher stepped close, her body up against mine and fitting so damned perfectly, and lifted her arms to rest her hands on my shoulders. There wasn’t a fucking doubt in my head that she could feel me hardening even more against her stomach but she said nothing. She did focus her eyes on my neck while biting her lip though.
Was she uncomfortable?
“That okay?” I asked her, not having the balls to come right out and ask if my arousal against her was going to be a problem. I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable but there wasn’t anything I could do to stop what was happening below the belt. Especially not now, not when her body was pressed up against me.
She nodded, but didn’t lift her eyes. “Yes.”
We swayed back and forth. I had a hand in the middle of her back and the other at her lower back, and I had to physically restrain myself from sliding my hands over her skin and under the edges of her dress. I just wanted to feel her. All of her.
Instead, I let my thumbs rub up and down over the smoothness there.
I kept my gaze out at the dance floor, watching the other swaying couples, in fear that if I looked down at Asher, I wouldn’t be able to look away. Or worse, I’d see she didn’t want to be here.
God, I wanted her to want to be here, in my arms.
I gave in to my wants and turned my head back, dropping it and letting my lips press against the top of her forehead. It wasn’t a kiss. I was simply resting against her.
It could have been a kiss, but it wasn’t.
The song was coming to an end, but the opening bars of “I Don’t Dance” filtered through. I wasn’t going to pull away from this slow dance any sooner than I had to, and it looked like I had another three minutes to enjoy this.
In the soft beat between songs, I felt her take a breath. I didn’t think she meant for me to hear the words, likely hoping for them to be lost in the music.
“You confuse me.”
Her words were whisper soft and they were almost…almost…not heard. But I heard those words loud and clear.
I shifted my stance but kept her close. I pulled my head back so I could look down at her, momentarily paralyzed at just how close she was. I could see every speck in her eye. I could count her eyelashes.
I could see stress lines near her eyes.
For the first time today, Asher looked unsure. Her eyes were still trained straight ahead of her, locked on my neck, but gone was the content smile that was on her face all day. I would even take the pissy glare she threw at me earlier, over this unsure look all over her face right now.
“Why?” I asked softly, my voice hardly cracking into tone.
She lifted her eyes to mine and it was a jolt to the system. They were so incredibly green, and what were usually red specks, were a rich gold. What did these colors mean?
“I…” she pinched her lips together and shook her head, turning away.
Lifting a hand from her back, I brought her face back toward mine. “Why?” I repeated quietly.
I could feel as she gently shook her head, so minute it wasn’t visible. “It doesn’t matter.” The huskiness of her voice, when so soft, was like air.
Keeping my hand on her face, I pressed my other hand into her back gently, closing what very little distance was still between us. “I’m sorry for not keeping in contact after you left,” I answered, having a feeling her confusion was directly related to the weeks between her leaving, and my showing up for the wedding. “If it’s any consolation, I’m confused when it comes to you.”
She averted her eyes and I swept my thumb over the apple of her cheek. “I feel like I have to move slow with you. I’m afraid of you getting skittish,” I said, laying it on the table. “But damn, Asher, I want you.”
Her eyes, still focused somewhere on the side, started watering and suddenly the kick in my gut was very different than the shock to the system it was when she first locked eyes with me tonight. “Fuck, Asher,” I barely said. I took my hand from her back and framed her face. “Please don’t cry. Look at me.”
When she brought her eyes back to mine, the movement caused a tear to spill from each of her eyes. My heart felt like it was two sizes too big in my chest, and it almost itched with the unease. God, I didn’t mean to make her cry. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head, the corners of her lips pinched tight. “It’s not you. I just…” She took a deep breath and I could feel her forcing herself to keep her eyes on mine. If given the opportunity, this girl would run. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind.
“I don’t know what to do,” she finally finished.
“What do you mean?” I trailed one hand down her neck, hooking my hand around the back gently.
“I don’t…I just…” Her eyes shifted around the room and she puffed out her cheeks. “It’s been a long time.”
There were those secrets she held so close to her. She had more to say.
But I wasn’t going to press. Not right now.
“One moment at a time?” I asked her.
Her lips twitched and one corner moved—barely, but it moved—up into a partial smile. “Okay.”
I squeezed her neck gently and nodded. “Okay.”
Asher
Sometimes I was such a girl.
The tears that came when Porter told me he was afraid of me being skittish? What the hell were those? I’ll tell you what those were.
That was me being a complete and total girl.
But to be honest? It was also me being extremely afraid.
I liked spending time with Porter, and I loved his family. For the first time in eighteen years, I had a place to belong.
To know that he was attracted to me and wanted to be with me, put to ease a lot of the doubts and questions running through my head, but the deep ones still thrived—what was I going to do when it came time to more?
When it came time for sex?
I could feel my heart starting to pound and I forced my mind back to his words.
One moment at a time.
I could worry about it later.
Right now, I wanted to live in this moment. The second slow song had to be coming to an end, and soon I wouldn’t be so wrapped up in this man’s arms. I wanted to take this all in and hold it with me for when he was gone.
Because he would go.
I rested my cheek against his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart under my head. He kept a hand on the back of my neck but had returned his other one to the bareness my back. I liked feeling his rough hands on my skin. And the way he was holding me, was with a protectiveness I had never experienced before.
He lived in South Carolina right now, and I was working and thriving in Wisconsin, under the guiding hand of his mother. This would never work in the long run.
Then, if and when things ran their course between he and I, what was I going to do? Lose the only family I felt accepted me? Maybe I could find the Douglas family.
Which then reminded me what a piss-poor friend I was, because I still hadn’t found a way to contact either Carter or Hunter.
I was a terrible person.
It was only a matter of time before the Prescotts found that out and—
“Hey, hey, hey.” Porter lifted my face again. He brought a hand up to my cheek and it was then that I realized I was crying again. “What’s wrong?”
I just shook my head. There were so many demons in my head he didn’t need to know about.
He let me have my non-answer, instead, wiping away the tears from my face. With his hand on my face and looking down at me, he asked, “You going to San Diego for Christmas?”
I shrugged. “I was invited.”
He nodded. “Please come.” I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “And then maybe in January, when the team has a bye week, you can come down and visit.”
A week.
A week with Porter.
I bit my lower lip and flitted my eyes between his. He was watching me with…
Hope.
“Okay.” The word was heavy, but in the sense that I felt the weight lifted from me.
“Yeah?”
I nodded, the rough feel of his hand against my cheek sending thrills through me. “Yes.”
His smile was quick and blinding, and my eyes darted to the dimple in his right cheek. My fingers itched to trace it, but I kept my arms wrapped around his back instead.
He nodded once. “Good.” He repeated the word, softer, but I heard it and it made me giggle—just a little one.
With the hand he had on my face, he moved my hair behind my ear, his eyes fixed on my piercings, I was sure. His eyes still there and not on mine, he asked, “Can I kiss you?” His brows drew down and his eyes squeezed tight at the corners. Finally, the bottle-green orbs moved back to mine.
This time, the pounding in my chest had little to do with the failures I was sure would come when it came time for more with this man. I pulled my lips in between my teeth and nodded.
His grin was crooked as he ran the pad of his thumb over my drawn-in lips.
He pressed his thumb to my lips, moving around the wetness he left behind.
I blinked back the memory, trying hard to focus on the here and now. If Porter noticed my brief zone-out, he certainly didn’t show it.
“I need these,” he said.
Then, both his hands were on my face and he tilted my head back slightly. I released my lips on a breathless gasp, my heart pounding, my body ready. I slid my hands from his back to his hips, feeling the cut of muscle there.
When his lips finally met mine, my fingers tightened into his sides and I couldn’t stop the sigh from escaping. I let my eyes drift close, willing to let my senses take over.
The chatter around us dimmed. The crooning music stayed in the forefront of my mind, but it was Porter who surrounded me.
His full lips pressed lightly against mine, with the smell of his cologne wafting around us.
His hands on my face, holding me possessively to him, but I found it was something that I craved.
Before I could start to worry I was doing something wrong, I felt his tongue against the seam of my lips. My mouth dropped open and then his tongue was in my mouth, and mine was in his.
This wasn’t a power struggle. This was a slow, sweet kiss; a kiss where we learned one another. I learned his taste, the feel of his mouth. My favorite though, was how he held my face so dearly in his hands.
He wasn’t just taking the kiss.
No, he was giving, too.
It had been a long time since I kissed a guy, since I’d been kissed. Two years, maybe?
But this was unlike any kiss in my early teenage years. This kiss had the potential to mean…
Everything.
The music changed, pulling me from the moment. I moved my head back and stared up at him, my lips still parted.
When he smiled down at me, I couldn’t help but do the same.