by Lisa De Jong
She looks at me curiously. “Who?”
“The guy I’ve been talking to at the diner. Have you seen him?” I ask, fidgeting with my fingers. She’s going to ask me a thousand questions about this later.
Her eyebrows pull in as her head nods toward the bathroom. “He went in there about ten minutes ago.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” She knows that we’ve become friends, so I’m pissed that she didn’t call me to come help him. Wouldn’t she know that I’d want to help him?
“I didn’t know you guys were that close. Besides, you really don’t need to get in the middle of this stuff,” she says, resting her palms on the bar in front of her.
“He needs me.” I don’t wait for her to reply as I walk toward the hallway that leads to the bathrooms.
A bearded guy with faded blue jeans and a racing t-shirt walks out, still working to fasten his pants. I’m beyond disgusted, but I have to find out if Asher is inside. “Is there a young guy with blonde hair in there?” I ask shyly, standing back against the wall.
His eyes roam the entire length of my body, and he smiles. “Yeah, he’s puking his guts out. Someone should teach that boy how to hold his liquor.”
“Is anyone else in there?” I tried to look over his shoulder when he had the door open, but the partition blocked my view.
He shakes his head. “Not at the moment.”
“Thanks,” I say as I push past him, anxious to see Asher.
The moment I walk in, I can hear heaving, followed by a few coughs. I walk toward the two bathroom stalls, noticing it smells so much worse in here than it does in the bar. I can’t even imagine how much he drank to make himself this sick. “Asher,” I say, pushing the door on the first stall. It’s empty. I hear the heaving sound again right as I push on the door of the second stall. There he is, perched over the toilet with his elbows resting on either side.
My stomach clenches as I squat down behind him and hesitantly move my hand to rub small circles on his back. “Do you need some water?” I ask as soon as he stops heaving.
“I asked you not to come here,” he grumbles, resting his forehead on his hands. He’s stupid to think I’d just leave him here by himself. I may not care about much these days, but I’m not going to let him get in any trouble, or even worse, let him drive home drunk.
“I’m not leaving you here. Are you okay to walk, or do you need a minute?” I ask, continuing to rub his back.
“You’re not responsible for me,” he whispers. His breathing is hard, and I can feel his heart beating against his back.
“Yeah, but I’m the only one here for you right now,” I say, trying to hold back my frustration. The only reason I’m here in this smelly bar is to help him. “Can you get up? I think you should get some fresh air.”
“Please, just go wait outside. I’ll be out in just a minute.” He looks up at me with narrowed eyes, but all I can concentrate on is the pale tone of his skin and the lines of sweat that roll down his forehead.
“I’m not leaving you in here like this.” He’s crazy if he thinks I’m going to leave him with his head over the toilet.
“Can you just give me some fucking space?” he growls, gripping his hair between his fingers. I hate seeing him like this. He usually seems so strong, but right now he seems so weak.
“I’ll wait right outside the stall, but I’m not going anywhere,” I warn, standing back up on my feet. He glares up at me one more time before resting his elbows on the toilet seat. I close the stall door behind me to give him some privacy. It’s quiet for a few minutes as I wait in the center of the bathroom, careful not to touch anything. When I finally hear the toilet flush, relief washes over me. I’m ready to get out of this bathroom and this bar.
The bathroom door suddenly swings open, making me jump back. One of the guys who was outside enters, causing the hair on my arms to stand up. I hold my breath, hoping he’ll just walk by and leave me alone.
“Hey, why didn’t you just tell me you were going to meet me in here?” he smiles.
The way he’s looking at me makes me sick. It reminds me so much of the way Drew stared at me that night, with hunger in his eyes. My ears start ringing, and it feels like the oxygen is slowly being drained from the air.
He stares down at me with a disgusting grin on his face as his feet move a couple steps forward. I can’t hear anything but the raging voices in my head that are telling me to get out of here. The only problem is that my feet are firmly planted in the ground, weighed down too much to take a single step toward the door. I feel a firm hand on my elbow, causing me to jump for the second time. When I glance over my shoulder, I see Asher standing there, looking pale, clammy and concerned, but I’ve never been more relieved to see anyone in my life.
“Stay the fuck away from her!” Asher shouts, pushing against the guy’s chest.
The guy raises his hands in the air and steps back, giving Asher and I some much-needed space. His eyes remain on Asher whose chest is moving up and down. If I didn’t know Asher, I’d be scared of him too.
“Let’s get out of here,” Asher says, placing his hand on the small of my back. I’m not watching where I’m going. I just keep walking in the direction Asher leads me until I feel the crisp fall air against my face. I take several deep breaths until the clamp that’s wound tight around my lungs begins to loosen, allowing me to breathe normally again. I’m supposed to be here for Asher, but look at me . . . I’m a mess.
I look up to see him staring down at me with his eyebrows drawn together. “Are you okay?” he asks, softly running the back of his index finger against my cheek.
“No,” I admit for the first time out loud. I’m not okay. I haven’t been in a long time.
He brings his other hand to my other cheek, holding my head in his hands. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, looking down into my eyes through the darkness.
“Not right now,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut. He doesn’t push anymore as he pulls me close to his body, holding me tight.
Chapter 12
It was four days before I saw Asher Hunt again.
I tried calling him once after I hadn’t heard from him or seen him at the diner, but the call went straight to voicemail. I want to see him so badly, but maybe it’s time that I let him come to me. Maybe he just needs a little time to sort through whatever is bugging him. So for four long, grueling days all I do is work, run and even got a little more reading done. I’m starting to realize more and more that if I can keep my mind busy with something, the less I think about all the horribly tainted memories that have taken permanent residence in my head.
When I open my front door to head out for my afternoon run, I’m surprised to see Asher’s car parked on the street right in front of my house. He’s sitting on the hood of his car in his blue jeans and a long-sleeve black t-shirt hugging his chest. It’s hard to know how much you really want someone around until they’re missing.
“Hey,” he says, standing up with his hands in his pockets.
“Hey.” I walk slowly toward him, nervous about what he might have to say.
“What have you been up to?” he asks, letting one side of his mouth turn up. One look at those lips has my pulse rising.
“Just work mostly,” I shrug, stopping right in front of him.
He reaches out to me, which catches me off guard. It would be easy to hold a grudge and block him out of my life, but as I stand here looking at him, I know that I can’t.
I step into his waiting arms, and he pulls me against his toned body, resting his forehead against mine. “I missed you,” he whispers. His warm breath against my skin is enough to drive me crazy. I hate that he can affect me so easily.
“Where have you been?” I ask, using the tip of my tongue to moisten my lower lip.
He shakes his head, his forehead still pressed to mine. “I was trying to keep a little distance.”
“Why?” Even on the first day I met him, I was drawn to him. I sensed this connection
between us, making it hard to stay away even though I knew I should.
“Because, I’m only going to end up hurting you. Look what happened the other night at Pete’s,” he says.
“But you didn’t hurt me,” I respond, pulling back to put some space between us.
“You could have been hurt because of me. It didn’t happen this time but what about next time? I would never be able to live with myself if something happened to you because of me,” he says, pulling my face back toward him and running his thumb over my lower lip.
“So what are you doing here now then?” I ask.
“I warned you that if you let me kiss you, things would change between us. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
He kisses along my jawline, inching his way closer and closer to my lips. I can’t even remember if I’m supposed to be mad at him right now. Or what I would possibly be upset about. It really doesn’t matter. I wanted him to kiss me then, and I want him to kiss me now.
I’m getting more and more attached to him. If he leaves, or decides not to come around again for days, I don’t know what I’ll do. I need someone around who I can count on and who I can trust. I’m not going to be a convenience for anyone. I never want to feel used again in this lifetime.
He’s either with me, or he’s not.
There is no in-between.
I push against his chest to break the contact between his lips and my skin. “You can’t just disappear for days like that.”
“I know,” he says, swallowing hard.
The longer I look at him, the more I feel myself caving to what I feel in my heart. The voice inside my head is telling me to protect myself from what could happen if I fall for him and it all falls apart. But the voice inside my heart is yelling at me to never let him go.
“I want to make an exception for you, but I don’t know if I can. I won’t be able to take it if this ends badly,” I say, letting my eyes pierce into his.
He looks up to the sky before focusing back down on me. “I want to be here for you.”
“Promise?”
“I can’t make promises, Kate. I want to get to know you, and I want to be there for you, but I don’t think being your friend is going to work for me anymore. I want to kiss you whenever I want. I want to hold you. I want you to tell me all of your secrets and eventually tell you all of mine. I want you in my life,” he says, placing his index finger under my chin.
He stares at my lips for several seconds before drawing his eyes back to mine. “Can I kiss you? I’ve been thinking about it since the first time we kissed, and honestly, I don’t know what I’ll do if you say no.”
I open my mouth, trying to push for the words I want to say, but I can’t. I don’t know what to say to that. But right now he’s looking at me like I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
I think it can only get better from here.
Taking a deep breath, I nod against the finger that still rests under my chin. He looks at me with such intense fervor; almost like I’m the only woman on the planet. As his face moves toward mine, I close my eyes, ready to relish in everything he can give me. He surprises me by softly kissing my eyelids, then moving his lips down to my cheek. His tongue licks the edges of my lips, lingering for a while, playing and nibbling. As his hands move down my back, his tongue presses against the seam of my lips, begging to connect with mine.
I slowly open my eyes and see his looking right at me. It’s completely different to kiss with my eyes open than it is to kiss in darkness. When I look at him, I feel like I can see right through him. I’m not thinking about myself for once; I’m only wondering what’s going through his mind.
I close my eyes again and let myself feel the warmth he brings to my body as he tangles his tongue with mine. It’s the longest kiss I’ve ever shared with anyone, and I may never be ready for it to end.
He cradles my face in his hands and slows before pulling his lips away from mine. I stare up at him curiously.
“What are you doing right now?” he asks, rubbing his thumbs across my cheekbones.
“I was going to go for a run.”
He tilts his head to the side. “I think that can wait until later. Besides, you’re too thin as it is.”
“I thought guys liked that,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. I know I could stand to gain a few pounds, but no one else is complaining.
“Well, not this guy.”
I open my mouth to say something, but he leans in to kiss me instead. “Hang out with me,” he whispers against my lips.
“Do you want to come inside and watch a movie?” I ask, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye.
He smiles. “There’s nothing I’d rather do.”
“What are we doing standing out here then? Let’s go inside, and pick out a movie.” I walk past him toward the house, glancing back to make sure he’s following behind.
As soon as we enter the house, I motion him toward the couch and walk to my bedroom to change my clothes. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”
I throw on a pair of dark blue skinny jeans and a grey thermal, taking a couple extra minutes to comb my fingers through my hair and put on a little mascara. I’m not one of those girls who spend hours on her appearance, but Asher doesn’t seem to mind.
I leave my room and see him sitting on the couch staring at the blank television screen. When I’m close enough to touch, he reaches for my hand and pulls me down next to him. Once I’m cuddled next to him, he grabs my hand in his and brings it to his lips. “I talked to my sister yesterday.”
I look up, noticing how tense he seems. “How did it go?”
“She cried. It made me feel like complete shit,” he tells me.
“I don’t understand why you can’t just go visit her. It would be better for both of you.”
He looks down at me for a split second before focusing his attention back to the screen. “I wish it was that easy.”
“Why does it have to be so hard?” I ask. He always sounds so sad when he talks about her, and I can’t help but wonder what might be going on in his family.
“Maybe I will soon,” he says, ignoring my question.
“If you want me to come with you, I can,” I offer, pushing some of the stray hair off his forehead.
He reaches for my hand, entwining our fingers together. “It’s something I probably need to do by myself.”
“Asher, you know if you ever want or need to talk about anything, I’m here,” I whisper, focusing on the sadness evident in his crystal blue eyes.
“I know,” he says, running the back of his finger across my cheek. “But there are some things you just can’t change no matter how much you talk about them.”
I swear this guy has read all of my theories on life. That or we’re two people with similar souls who just happened to be in the same place at the same time.
“I know exactly what you mean.” His face lifts like I’ve taken a huge weight off of him. He was probably expecting me to push him more, but I can’t do that to him when I know it doesn’t help me.
“Do you want something to drink?”
“I’ll take a glass of water.”
“Are you sure you don’t want a beer?” I ask, trying to hold back a smile.
He raises his eyebrows, shaking his head. “No, I think I’ve had enough alcohol for a while.”
“I’ve never been drunk,” I shrug.
“Seriously?” he asks, raising his eyebrows even further.
“Yeah, when you’re drunk, you don’t have control over what you do, or what others may try to do. I like to have control.”
“I get what you’re saying, but no one ever has complete control over those things, even when they’re sober,” he says. There’s a hint of sadness in his voice as his eyes focus on the blank TV screen. It’s the second time tonight that he’s said something that makes me think about how I’ve been living my life for the last two years. The past is always so much clearer than the futu
re.
“Why don’t you pick out a movie from the cabinet, and I’ll grab the drinks.”
I rest my palms on the counter and take a few calming breaths before opening the fridge. My heart is falling so fast that I don’t think the rest of me has had time to catch up yet.
When I walk back into the living room, Asher is kneeling in front of the DVD player pressing his thumb to the eject button. “What did you pick?” I ask, setting the glasses on the coffee table.
“I can’t get this stupid thing to open. We either have to watch what’s in here, or do something else,” he says, turning to face me.
“What’s in there now?” I ask.
“Steel Magnolias,” he replies, crinkling his nose. My mom loves that movie; I swear she watches it at least once a week.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say, biting my thumbnail. I was really looking forward to watching something funny.
I consider the options. I have a small TV and DVD player in my room that I bought when I first got my job, but I don’t know if I’m ready to be in my room alone with Asher.
I look down at Asher who’s waiting for me to make a decision. I open my mouth to ask him if he wants to watch it in my room, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Just thinking about it puts a heavy weight on my chest. He’s going to know something’s wrong with me. He’s going to end up leaving because I can’t even enjoy some of the simple things in life.
Strong arms surround me, pulling me close to his familiar scent. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, rubbing small circles on my back.
I bury my face in his t-shirt, gripping the bottom of it in my fists. “Everything,” I say honestly.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I shake my head against his chest. The pressure of his arms eases the overwhelming pressure in my chest.
“You don’t have to stay with me,” I mutter, after a few moments of silence.
“Hey, look at me,” he says, using my elbows to pull me away from him. I fix my eyes on the ground, staring at the tips of my black flats. His finger rests under my chin pulling my eyes up to his. “Keep those bright green eyes on me and listen to what I’m about to say,” he demands, taking a step in my direction. If I’m breathing right now, I can’t tell, but he certainly has my full attention.