Chapter 18 (Breslin)
I pull in the parking lot of the dorms after my shift ends and look over at Kit.
Aside from Larry hiring us both back at the coffee shop today, she hasn't really said much. Which considering the events of yesterday, is understandable.
“I'm canceling with Landon tonight,” I tell her but she shakes her head.
“Don't, I'm fine.”
When I give her a look, she sighs. “Okay, I'm not fine.” She toys with a loose string on her jeans. “But I just want to be alone tonight. Maybe go for a drive and clear my head.”
“Kit—”
“So, Landon's huh?” she questions and I know it's her attempt at changing the subject.
“Yeah. But only if you—”
She cuts me off. “I think you should go.” She turns to face me. “But I have to ask—what the hell is going on with you two? Or should I say three?”
I smooth out my shirt and shift uncomfortably because I have no idea how to answer that. Actually, I do. “There's no three. Just two.” I look away. “Just me and Landon,” I clarify.
She gives me a pointed look. A pointed look that only a best friend who knows you're full of shit can give. “Could have fooled me last night. Because I would have sworn you and Asher were flirting...or something close to it.”
“What are you talking about? I sat next to Landon the whole night.” I wave a hand, hating the way my heart is suddenly pounding. “Besides you were drunk. What do you know?”
“Not too drunk to notice you left with him,” she mutters under her breath.
I stay silent...because she's got my number.
She reaches for her purse, sadness crossing over her features again. “Remember all those times when I told you to get over Asher?”
I give her a soft nod and she opens the door. “Well, I get it now. There really are some things that you just never get over. I'm sorry I wasn't more understanding before.”
With that, she slams my car door and gets into her own.
My heart pangs as I step out of the car, because this is not how I ever would have wanted Kit to understand what I was going through.
Hiking my bag up my shoulder I start walking toward the dorms. Only to pause when I catch sight of a sweaty, jogging Asher whizzing by.
A shirtless jogging Asher.
For a moment, I'm grateful he has a pair of headphones on and hasn't noticed me, because I'm certain I resemble a tomato.
I back up so I'm hidden behind a large bush, choosing to ignore how creepy that makes me.
His body...holy hell. His body is even better than what I remember it being in high school.
He's bulked up a little, filled out in places I wasn't aware a person could fill out.
Sweat trickles down his abs—the kind of abs that would put a fitness model to shame—and I follow the fluid as it slowly drizzles down, down, down to that mouthwatering and very indented 'V' of his lower abs— thanks to the sweatpants that are slung almost dangerously low on his hips.
I force my eyes back up to his face, because there's a war brewing in my own body and I'm afraid of the outcome.
However, looking at his face is just as devastating of a blow to my system.
Not only because he's sinfully good looking...but because those beautiful blue eyes of his...hold a sadness in them that didn't exist before.
And my chest shreds at the thought of what might have put it there.
“The last thing he needs is you fucking up his life all over again when he's trying to put it back together.”
Preston's words from the other day nearly root me to the spot. I have no clue what he meant by that and I still don't, considering it was the other way around and Asher was the one who fucked up my life.
But there's only one way to find out.
I stare at Kit's laptop, debating if I should do this. Besides the fact that there's no guarantee searching his name will prove to be eventful in the first place, it's something I've intentionally avoided doing for years.
I check my watch, purposely stalling for time. Time that I have plenty of since I'm not due to meet Landon at his apartment for another 40 minutes.
Pulling up google and typing his name in the search bar feels like the equivalent of Pandora's box and my hands shake.
How bad could it be?
My breath catches in my throat and I close my eyes and shake my head, certain what's right in front of me can't be real.
There are websites. All sorts of websites linked to videos.
Videos with names like: Hot football player gets sucked off by another guy.
And: Football prodigy Asher Holden is gay. Watch the video below.
There's a sharp ache in my heart and a whirlwind of emotions zipping through my head as I hover over the play button. Before I can talk myself out of it, I press play and...
My. Heart. Stops.
Because Kyle is the man pleasuring him...and pleasuring him he is because there's no mistaking the deep groan erupting from Asher—a groan I've only heard once in my life.
And there's certainly no mistaking the hand on Kyle's head holding him in place as he swallows him.
For a moment, I feel a bolt of sadness due to this being all over the internet...but then my eyes drift to the picture on the nightstand by his bed.
The picture of us. Smiling as we hold on to one another like we're the only two people who exist in the world.
Asher looks so happy and I look so...
Naïve...because I was hopelessly in love with the boy in the picture.
The video lasts all of five seconds before it loops to the beginning again and I click out of the browser, my stomach in knots and tears brimming my eyes.
I knew he cheated on me. He confirmed it that night. The night he took my innocence and turned me into what I am now. Jaded. Angry. Ruined.
But seeing the actual, undeniable proof? Nothing could have prepared me for that blow.
I slam the top to the laptop down and grab my keys and purse. I refuse to let him ruin anymore good things in my life.
And Landon Parker...is the best thing. And if he's asked me to come over tonight because he's made his final choice?
I'm going to make damn sure it's me.