Sixteen
Asher
The week went by entirely too fast.
I looked to my left, seeing Porter’s sprawled out, sleeping self. The room was still dark, the sun only starting its rise for the day.
Every morning for the last four mornings, I woke before him, and every morning of those last four mornings, I took him in.
He was a stomach sleeper; something that I witnessed the last time I was here but now knew was a fact. He also respected my space.
But he also always had his face turned toward me.
We may have both been under the covers, but he kept his hands under his head and, looking down the comforter, his ankles were likely crossed. I wondered what it would feel like to wake up wrapped in his arms.
He certainly kept me busy the last few days, doing a number of touristy things in Charleston. We went on a Civil War historical site tour, we did a fun ropes course, we sailed on a Schooner, and we went to a Magnolia plantation. He held my hand and maybe kissed me on the lips a few times, but that was the extent of everything.
He was very gentlemanly, but I was curious if I was throwing off vibes that I couldn’t handle much more.
“I feel like I have to move slow with you. I’m afraid of you getting skittish.”
I rolled to my side to face him and bit down on my bottom lip. I was terrified of doing anything more with him.
Absolutely petrified.
I was broken.
My body was disgusting.
There was some disconnect between my body and mind, and how was I to know if what I felt with him—the fluttering, the excitement—was real? How would I know that what I did with him, was something that I wanted?
I slipped my hands under my cheek, still watching him sleep.
Then there was the fact I hadn’t ever had sex for me.
I didn’t have a fucking clue what to do.
What the hell was I doing here? I was in way over my head.
“You think loudly,” Porter mumbled without opening his eyes, startling me. Slowly, his lids lifted and his gaze locked on mine. “What’s wrong?”
His voice was sleep heavy, quiet and cracking from not being used for hours.
“Nothing,” I whispered.
He lifted his head just enough to move a hand from under his pillow, reaching out to trail his finger down my forearm. “You tremble. Here, and your breathing.”
Well that was embarrassing. “Sorry.”
He shook his head against his pillow. “Don’t be.” He stared at me a moment before adding, “I hope that someday you’ll trust me enough to let me in.”
There were some darknesses that weren’t meant to be given light.
“I trust you,” I told him instead. The look he gave me told me he didn’t completely believe me but, like he always seemed to do, he let it go.
I did trust him, though. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. And because I didn’t think he knew that, I told him those very words before scooting close enough to kiss him chastely on the lips.
And then I added, “Happy birthday.”
There was something about speaking so close to another person, that your lips brushed against the other’s. It was an intimacy I never imagined for myself.
He smiled against my lips, pecking mine back once before pushing me over so I was on my back.
He put his hand between me and the wall, effectively trapping me under him.
My heart started to beat overtime, and not from anticipation.
My sight started to gray out in my peripheral, black closing in until it was nearly a tunnel of sight.
And then black.
Porter
“Asher!”
One moment, everything was fine and the next, Asher was going into some sort of panic mode under me, her eyes rolling up, and passing out. I sat back on my knees, pulling her up.
“C’mon, Ash. Wake up.” Her body was limp in my arms.
What the hell just happened?
I rearranged my body to lean against the wall, pulling her into my lap. Her body was shivering, so I pulled the comforter up over her shoulders, cloaking us in its warmth.
“Asher,” I murmured, brushing her hair back from her face. “Wake up, Ash.”
I can’t say I’ve ever had anyone pass out on me before, and it was some scary shit.
I needed her to wake up.
I needed to see her eyes.
Dark green, light green, fiery red, I didn’t give a fuck what color they were. I just needed to see them.
I sat with her, rubbing my hands up and down her arms, and my lips pressed to the top of her head. Wake up, wake up, wake up.
My heart was pounding, a rapid rhythm that it didn’t even reach when I was racing down the ice. It didn’t help that I was pretty sure it skipped a beat every few beats, too.
What happened? She was going to wake up, right?
She had so many damn secrets. She said she trusted me, but this not knowing shit wasn’t trust. The panic in my chest was starting to grow.
We had a good week. I experienced a side of Asher I had only had tastes of before. Getting to experience her happiness every hour of every day was something I hadn’t realized I’d been craving until after the very first day this week.
I felt her shift against me and the panicked anger dissipated. “Ash.”
Then she startled, pushing away from me and scrambling into the corner. She sat there, her knees drawn up and her head down. I refrained from squeezing the bridge of my nose in frustration.
I reached out and, knowing it was likely going to elicit the same response her coming to in my arms did, I touched her leg. As I figured she would, she jumped, but I wrapped my hand around her lower calf, not giving her an inch.
But giving her an anchor.
“Ash. It’s just me. Porter,” I added, just in case.
She mumbled something into her legs.
“What?” I scooted closer, giving her leg a gentle squeeze.
“I said, I’m so embarrassed,” she repeated, still into her legs but decidedly louder.
“Will you talk to me about it?”
She shook her head into her knees and I squeezed my eyes shut. This wasn’t going to work. This me and her thing, it wasn’t going to work. But that very thought brought my heart into its panicked rhythm again.
This ‘us’…it was new, but God, I wanted to see where it could go.
I was torn.
I didn’t need this.
I didn’t need the worry about what was going on in her head every time she went guarded on me. I didn’t need to worry that something I did was going to send her into panic. I had too much going on in my life right now.
On the flip side, I needed to see her eyes, the mix of colors that showed her emotions.
I needed to hear her laugh; the bright, yet husky, melody that seemed to filter through me.
I needed to see her smiles, the ones that brightened up her face and made me feel like I stood ten feet tall.
I also needed a minute to get my head back together, because this relationship was way too new to be going through this shit. This was a big neon sign.
Step away.
She’s not ready.
Resigned, I let go of her and pushed myself to the edge of the bed. Before I could stand though, Asher was on her knees behind me and grabbing for my arm.
“I’m sorry.”
I looked back at her. Her face was flushed and she bit that bottom lip of hers.
“I get claustrophobic, I guess,” she pushed out. Her eyes pleaded with me. “It’s a foster care thing,” she added quietly.
I stood there, staring down at her, neither of us speaking.
Finally, I succumbed. “Will you tell me about it?”
She started to shake her head so I pulled my arm from her. “I have to piss.”