Briar

The moment Asher walks away, my mom barges into my room. I whip around, trying to look casual as I lean an elbow on the windowsill.

“What happened to your hair?” she gasps, pinching the strands between two fingers to inspect it.

“Nice to see you, too, Mom,” I say, leaning in for an obligatory hug. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry. Am I no longer allowed in my own home?” she asks, dramatic as ever.

“You know what I mean,” I say, barely containing my eye roll. Mom sighs, smoothing my hair out of my face.

“You’d know if you ever picked up your phone. Your father is speaking at the Smiles 4 Kids gala tonight.”

My dad may not be up for the father of the year award any time soon, but he still manages to impress me from time to time. I remember hearing about this fundraiser, but I’d forgotten all about it. It’s to raise money for kids, mostly in other countries, whose families can’t afford corrective surgery.

“Oh! Where is he?”

“He had some work to do on the other side of town. We’re only here until morning, so we’re going to stay at the event’s hotel to stay close to the airport,” she says, pulling an envelope out of her purse. “Here are your tickets. It starts at eight. Make sure your brother is…decent.” Decent. In other words, sober. Dash just graduated from college and is about to start law school, but you’d think he was a burnout who dropped out of high school and does nothing but party by the way my parents talk about him.

“Does Dashiell know?”

“I’m sure you can talk him into it,” Mom says, avoiding a straight answer. Which means that’s a negative. “It’ll mean a lot to your father.”

“Fine,” I relent. I feel guilty for ignoring her calls, and she’s only in town for one night, so I’ll play along.

“Perfect. By the way, whose truck is that outside?” She says the word truck like one would say dog shit as she points her manicured finger in the direction of the driveway.

“Oh, uh, one of Dash’s friends.” Not technically a lie. “I’m pretty sure they’re still asleep.”

“Well, you tell him I want this house back to the way I had it.”

“Will do. What’s new with you guys? How is California?”

“Oh, you know. Busy,” she says vaguely. “We’ll talk later. I have a hair appointment to get to.” She kisses my cheek, and I stand to walk her out.

“Oh, and Briar, I almost forgot to tell you. You have a date for tonight.”

Uh, what?

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re seeing that Jackson boy, aren’t you? His mother is also attending, and she said he’d love to escort you.”

“Mom. No.” I shake my head. No way am I going with Jackson. “I am not dating him. In fact, I’m going out of my way to not date him.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. You can’t say no, now.”

“I didn’t say yes to begin with!” I protest, my voice rising in volume.

“Briar Victoria Vale. Two hours is all I’m asking. Two hours out of your life to play nice for your parents that you haven’t seen in weeks. Is that too much to ask?”

If there’s one thing Nora Vale is good at, it’s guilt-tripping. And passive-aggressiveness. And don’t forget manipulating.

“There better be cake,” I say, defeated, plopping back down to my bed.

“I’ll make sure there’s a chocolate one just for you.” She’s joking, but I know it’s her way of playing nice. “Now, go get showered. You smell like bad choices, and that hair is going to take nothing short of a miracle to tame.”

“Goodbye, Mother.” I laugh.

Unfuckingbelievable. I have managed to stay away from Jackson this whole time, and now I’m forced to go on a date with him. This should be tons of fun.

* * *

Hair curled: check. Lips in Scarlett Empress by Nars: check. Winged liner: double check. I turn to my bed, admiring the dress I got from Natalia’s mom’s boutique. It’s burgundy with spaghetti straps. The top is skintight lace with a deep scalloped neckline. The bottom flares out, hitting mid-thigh. It’s gorgeous, but the back is my absolute favorite part. The thin straps form an “X” across my shoulder blades, leaving the rest of my back completely bare. I pair it with black pumps, black bracelets, and a simple black choker. It’s feminine, yet edgy, and perfect for me.

I walk into my closet to find a matching clutch, and all I can think about is how I wish I was going to this thing with Asher instead of Jackson. But that would never happen. Even if Asher were the suit and tie kind of guy, my parents would probably have a coronary if I showed up on his arm. I would, though. If Asher called me up right now and told me that he wanted to be official and tell our families, I would in a heartbeat. Fuck what anyone else thinks. The only person I’d worry about is Dash. I don’t want to hurt him. But I think, in time, he’d come around. He’d want us both to be happy. Would it be so bad to find happiness together?

Deciding on my black studded Michael Kors wristlet, I walk back into my room.

“Why so blue, baby girl?”

My head snaps up to find Asher sitting on the end of my bed.

“Jesus!” I whisper-yell, rushing over to close my bedroom door. “I need to put a bell around your neck. You’re like a goddamn ninja.”

Asher smirks and pulls me to stand between his spread legs. His hands grip my waist, his thumbs rubbing my stomach. My heart pounds in my chest, and I feel myself already growing slick. My eyes close, and I lean into his touch. His hands flatten against my stomach, then move down to grip the hem of my dress.

“Show me what you have on underneath.” His voice is thick and gruff, and I nod in acquiesce. Bunching up the skirt, he exposes the black lace.

“Turn around.”

I comply, and he mutters a curse. I’m wearing a high-waisted thong that laces up in the back, showing a lot of skin and little to imagine.

“Fuck, this ass,” he says, bringing his hands up to squeeze my cheeks in his palms. He spins me back around to sit on his knees, my legs straddling his. “I missed you today,” he says grudgingly, like he’s mad at me for it, as his thumb starts to circle my clit through my panties.

“God, I missed you, too,” I say on a gasp, wrapping my arms around his neck as he continues his ministrations.

“I know you’re not all dressed up for me,” he says, his lips ghosting across the shell of my ear, his voice low and deadly. “Where are you going?”

I freeze, like a bucket of ice water has been dumped over my head. How do I tell him that I have to break our plans to go on a date with someone else? Someone that he already can’t stand.

“Briar,” he warns when I don’t respond. His thumb still rubs me.

“I have to go to this fundraiser gala for my parents tonight.”

“And?” he questions, knowing I’m not spilling everything.

“And I have to go with Jackson.”

“Say that again.” Venom laces his tone. “I must have heard you wrong. I thought you just said that you were going on a date with the guy that your brother and I have repeatedly warned you to stay away from.”

His thumb moves faster, pressing harder, and I can’t focus, let alone form coherent sentences.

“It’s not like that,” I manage to get out.

“Tell me what it’s like then, Briar.” His other hand comes up to fist my hair at the back of my head, forcing me to look at him while he continues his interrogation as he gets me off.

I moan, my hips jerking forward on their own accord. “My mom…” I start, but I’m lost in the sensations running through me. My body feels like a live wire, threatening to explode at the next touch.

“Your mom?” Asher prompts, sliding his fingers underneath the lace.

“She set it up. It’s not a real date.”

“So say no.”

“It’s not that easy,” I say, as a finger slips inside me. It’s slow and teasing, enough to make me crazy, but not enough to get me off. “I have to. I’m sorry.”

Losing patience, I grip his wrist, moving his hand at the speed I need.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he whispers, adding another finger, pumping harder.

“God, yes. That’s what I need, Ash.”

“Good,” he says simply, abruptly pulling back and leaving me feeling empty. My mouth drops open, and he lifts me by the waist, plopping me down beside him.

“What are you doing?” I ask incredulously. He can’t leave me like this.

Picking up the tickets from my nightstand, he scans the information and then drops them down on my shaking legs. “You’re going to be late. Might want to get going.”

“You’re an asshole,” I say, standing to straighten my dress and smooth my hair.

“So you keep telling me,” Ash deadpans.

Grabbing my wristlet, I decide to do the opposite of what he’s hoping for. Asher wants to get a reaction out of me. He wants a fight. But I’m not going to give it to him. I’m going to walk right out of this room, shaking my ass a little more for his benefit, without another word. And that’s exactly what I do.

“Dash!” I yell once I’m in the kitchen, plucking my keys off the hook. “Let’s go! We’re late!” We’re not late yet, not technically. But Friday night traffic is going to make it difficult.

“I’m not ready yet,” he calls back over the music blasting from his room. “I’ll meet you there.”

Great. Just awesome. There goes my buffer. I was counting on Dash’s presence to scare him off, even if a little. Though, on the other hand, I must admit I’m somewhat relieved. I don’t think I could face my brother right now after what just happened with Asher in my room. I don’t know how I’m going to focus on anything other than his fingers inside me. Jesus, take the wheel.

* * *

I’m delightfully bored. I say “delightful,” because it’s better to be bored than to be with stuck in awkward conversation with Jackson. For the past thirty minutes, I’ve done nothing but shake hands, kiss cheeks, and hug necks. My face hurts from smiling politely, and my feet are already killing me. But, I’ll take it. Because I haven’t seen Jackson once. Maybe he decided not to show.

A server walks by, and I pluck a glass of champagne off his tray. Even though I’m clearly underage, he doesn’t so much as bat an eye. No one cares at these types of events, my parents included. Everyone here is rich enough to buy their way out of any trouble they may find themselves in, anyway. My parents are busy schmoozing and mingling, so I decide to go to the bathroom just to have something to do.

My heels click-clack across the hard floor, and I stare straight ahead, hoping to avoid eye contact with another one of my dad’s clients or my mom’s friends. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I scan my appearance. Besides the lingering flush in my cheeks, you’d never know that a little over an hour ago, I was grinding on Asher’s lap, begging him to take me higher.

After fluffing my hair and reapplying my lipstick, I’ve run out of things to do, so I decide to head back out. As soon as I open the door, a hand darts out to clutch my elbow in an almost painful grip.

“Jackson, what the hell?” I tug my arm back, and the champagne splashes onto his shoes.

“I thought I saw you go in there,” he says, still staring at the liquid on his dress shoes. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He shakes his foot off and flashes me an easy smile. I don’t apologize.

“So, I hear you’re my date,” he says, when I don’t respond.

“We’re here as friends,” I stress. Even that much is a stretch after our last conversation.

“Friends?” He laughs. “Do you fuck all your friends?” he spits angrily.

“Okay, we’re done here.” His ego is wounded, and I get that. But I won’t be spoken to like that. I stand and spin around to walk away, only to run into a solid, six-foot wall of Asher. He steadies me by my shoulders, and I gasp when I realize he’s wearing a suit.

I’ll always prefer casual Ash over anything, but seeing him in a suit literally takes my breath away. His usually disheveled hair is slicked back in a pompadour style, and those beautiful, multicolored eyes shoot lasers in Jackson’s direction. I bring my hands to his face, forcing him to look at me, before dropping my hands and looking around, frantically, making sure no one saw us.

“Asher, don’t,” I whisper.

Ignoring me, he moves around me, standing chest to chest with Jackson.

“If you so much as fucking look in her direction again, I will put you in a fucking coma.”

His words aren’t loud, but quiet, intense Asher is far more dangerous. Jackson’s eyes dart to me briefly, but if he’s expecting me to stick up for him after that, he’s sorely mistaken. Shaking his head in disbelief, doing his best to hide his fear, he stomps away like a scolded child.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, turning my attention back to the bad boy turned GQ model in front of me.

“I knew that piece of shit was bad news.” His fists at his sides clench and release, clench, and release again.

“Relax.” I discreetly grab one of his hands, uncurling his fingers and rubbing his palm with my thumb. His hard eyes soften at my touch, and being the one person who can get through to him when he’s like this cracks the last piece of my hesitant heart wide open. It’s his. It’s always been his. I just wish he’d realize it.

“What the fuck was that about?”

At the sound of Dash’s voice, we drop each other’s hands like they’re on fire.

Dash jerks his chin in the direction Jackson ran off. “Do we need to take care of this guy?”

“What are you, the mafia?” I joke, shooting a pleading look at Asher. I know he wants nothing more than to make Jackson hurt right now. I can see it in his eyes. But, I don’t want them involved in this. I don’t even want my brother knowing that I slept with him.

Asher hesitates for a beat, indecision warring on his face. “He was just talking shit,” he explains, purposely downplaying the situation, and I let out a relieved breath.

As if I needed more chaos, I spot my mom heading right toward us, zeroed in on Dash. Maybe she won’t recognize Asher, being three years older and in a suit of all things.

“Dash, darling, how nice of you to—oh. Asher. What are you doing here?”

Okay, so I guess she recognized him.

“Dash here asked me to be his plus one,” he says, that mask of cool indifference firmly back in place. “I couldn’t say no to that pretty face. You know how it goes.”

“Mhm,” is all my mom says with a forced smile, turning her attention to me. “Where’s Jackson?” She scans the crowd.

“Probably to change his pants,” Asher mumbles under his breath, and I elbow his side.

“I don’t know. He was just here. I’m sure he’ll be back.” I shrug.

“Well, make sure you find him. Dinner will be served soon, then I’m certain he’ll want to dance.”

“I’m not—”

“Oh! And Lara wants a picture of you two,” she says, cutting me off, referring to Jackson’s mother. I swear I hear a growl come from Asher. And then she’s off, making her way to her next victim before I have a chance to object.

There are so many things I wish I could say to Ash right now, but I can’t, because Dash is right here. My brother takes his seat, and Asher follows suit, picking up the place card with Dashiell Vale +1 in gold script.

“Guess this is me,” he says, arching an eyebrow, daring me to argue.

I roll my eyes, lowering myself to my seat, which happens to be sandwiched between Asher and Jackson’s empty chair.

“When he comes back, play nice,” I warn them both. “You don’t have to like him, but we can’t cause a scene here.”

Dash takes a swig of his Jack on the rocks that I can smell from here and throws up a hand gesture.

“The fuck is that?” Ash asks, and I laugh.

“Scout’s honor.”

“Dude, that’s the Vulcan salute from Star Trek.”

Dash shrugs. “Same difference.”

“Idiot,” I say, but I can’t keep from smiling. It feels good to be together like this again, just the three of us.

Until I see Jackson, heading back our way.