I’m such a hypocrite. I was just telling my mind I wouldn’t ask Asher about the past, that I’m fine with our relationship the way it is.
I’m not.
I want to feel him more, have him open up to me more, have him hold me more.
Just more.
I’ll always want more from Asher.
“Have you picked up philosophy?” Owen pokes my side and I squirm away.
“Those weren’t your thoughts before.” Seb narrows his eyes. “You never gave Asher the present. You had him run after you until you were both destroyed.”
“You motherfucking idiot.” Owen hits his friend’s shoulder with his. “That’s not our story to tell.”
“Well, she erased her memories, so she might as well get a wake-up call.” Seb steps closer until he’s towering over me. “You don’t get to preach about the present when you ruined someone’s life in the past. Asher was so caught up in you, he always landed himself in trouble, and do you know what you gave him as a reward? A cold shoulder.”
I gulp, my palms turning sweaty. Even though I knew that, it stings to hear it out loud. These are Asher’s closest friends. They knew him better than anyone else.
“You think that, too?” I ask Owen, my voice low.
He lifts a shoulder. “I don’t like getting involved in people’s shit, but yeah, you two were like fire and water. You just never mixed, but I guess I liked to think you had your reasons.”
“I did,” I whisper.
“Have you told him those reasons?” Seb raises an eyebrow. “Because he didn’t return to make friends with you. He’s become such a stone since high school.”
“Buuuut he’s softening now.” Owen grins. “Whatever you’re doing to that fucker, keep doing it. We really thought we lost him with Arianna that night.”
“When he went to England, it became worse,” Sebastian says. “He acted as if he were completely fine when he wasn’t.”
We thought we lost him with Arianna that night.
Those words keep bouncing in my mind no matter how much I try to keep them away.
You ruined my fucking life, monster.
It’s Arianna’s death. That’s the incident that ruined everything.
I can’t run away from the truth anymore. If I want to figure out how to take my relationship with Asher to the next level, I need to fix the past.
For that, I have to find his wound, try to heal it, and hope it’s not too late.
Lies won’t shield me anymore. The truth is my only option.
Owen pokes my shoulder. “Don’t provoke him.”
“Yeah, he’s a little fuck when provoked,” Sebastian says.
“What do you mean?” I stare between the two of them.
“Come on, Rei-Rei.” Owen snaps his fingers. “Stay away from Jason Brighton. Asher never liked him.”
“Why?”
“He thinks he was pretending to be Arianna’s friend.” Sebastian’s gaze zeroes in on me. “He’s shady and always hangs around campus even though he doesn’t study here. Never trust anyone who seems too good to be true.”
Well, Jason isn’t too good to be true. He’s Cloud003 and that guy isn’t good at all. He still calls me his slut and wants to fuck me. Besides, Owen and Sebastian hate him because he’s with the Knights—the Devils’ rivals in Blackwood.
“But Asher likes me.” Owen waggles his brows with a sly grin and wraps an arm around my shoulder. “How about that BJ?”
“Drop your hand before I fucking cut it off.”
The three of us freeze at the low voice coming from the entrance. Asher barges inside, his fists clenched by his sides as his deep green eyes throw daggers in Owen’s direction. I don’t know why I’m tempted to stand in front of the football player and protect him.
Owen, Seb, and I might not have gotten off on the right foot, but we’ve grown close over the weeks. I like having them in my life and I’m glad they’re there for Asher when he needs a friend.
Only he doesn’t seem to consider them friends right now.
If anything, he appears on the verge of slamming his fist into Owen’s face and making the threat about his hand come true.
“Drop. It,” Asher growls, but his expression remains neutral, emotionless even.
I know better, though. Asher’s rage is the type that simmers under the surface. When the volcano finally erupts, it only leaves ashes in its wake.
Sebastian must feel Asher’s murderous mood, too, since he smiles in an obvious attempt to defuse the tension. “We were just leaving.”
“We were?” Owen seems oblivious, but I’m not sure if it’s genuine or just for show.
Seb grabs him by the shoulder and forces him to release me. “Yes, we were.”
Owen winks at me. “See you, Rei.”
I wave at them, trying—and failing—to ignore the presence standing in front of me.
As they pass him by, Asher stops Owen and whispers something clipped in his ear. I strain to hear what he’s saying, but I can’t catch it.
Owen’s face remains blank for a moment before he laughs. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
He winks at me again before Sebastian drags him out.
As soon as the door closes behind them, I realize it’s only Asher and me now.
My pulse picks up and I fight the urge to fidget. True, I agreed to confront him earlier, but I’m not ready so soon.
I need more time to cultivate my courage.
“What the fuck were you talking about with those two?” Something ticks in his jaw, and I can’t help watching him and his face…his handsome, dreamy face.
Is it weird that I like him seething like this? It means he cares, means he’s affected. It fills me with a weird type of hope, the belief that maybe, just maybe, it’s not too late.
I lift a shoulder. “The usual.”
“Define the usual.”
“Just stuff, Ash.”
He strides toward me and towers over me, his shoulders on the verge of snapping. “What type of stuff, Rai?”
My heart skips a beat at that name. Even though he knows about it, he only ever calls me Reina. It feels both strange and liberating to be called by that name, the name of the child me.
“Why did you call me that?” I whisper.
“Every time you call me Ash, I’ll call you Rai. Don’t you hate it?”
“I don’t hate Rai. It was my name for twelve years, after all, so if you think it’s a jab against me, you have it all wrong.” I pause, watching him closely. “Do you hate Ash?”
His lips thin into a line but he says nothing.
“Or do you secretly love it and hate that?” I continue, holding my breath.
Somehow, I think that’s how Asher feels about me, or at least that’s what I’m hoping for.
He ignores my question and motions behind him. “Let’s go home.”
Home.
My heart flutters at the word. Why the hell does he keep playing my heartstrings today?
I mean, why would he call my apartment home? Does he really think of it as one?
When I don’t move, he closes in on me.
He’ll take me back to the apartment, bring me to orgasm, and then sleep in another room as if I have the plague or something.