Now, that’s an interesting idea. You would think the two would hate each other. I mean, Hayden did punch Asher, but they seem to have a mutual respect for one another. “No thanks. I’d rather be . . ..” He looks down at Baz and scraps whatever colorful scenario he had in his head. “Just no, thanks.”
Hayden chuckles, rolling his sleeves up to his elbow, having removed his suit jacket. “So, what are you going to do?”
His large shoulders shrug, and he actually seems slightly . . . embarrassed? That’s strange for him. “I was thinking about maybe becoming a teacher.”
We all still, and he rolls his eyes, shrinking back in his seat which is so unlike him.
“A teacher?” Lola asks with genuine surprise.
“Yeah.” He sounds slightly defensive. “I know it won’t bring in the typical Sterling paycheck, but I don’t know. I like kids.”
I smile to myself, wanting to tell him I think it’s an amazing idea. He is so incredibly good with Sebastian and was from day one. He’s taught him plenty, and any kid would be lucky to have him as a teacher, but I don’t think it’s my place.
“That’s wonderful, Asher.” Thank God for Lola, the forever cheerleader. “You would be a fantastic teacher.” Asher lifts his gaze to her, looking like a hopeful child trapped in a gorgeous grown man’s body. “What age are you thinking?”
He shrugs and smiles at Baz. “Kindergarten.”
“Oh yeah! You can be my teacher!”
I laugh as Asher tickles him. “You already have a teacher.”
Baz smacks his little hand on his forehead. “Oh yeah,” he giggles, “I forgot.”
I laugh at that, and Hayden nods his own approval. Neither Lola nor he care about money, despite the fact that they roll in it.
I want to encourage him so badly, but I just push my pasta around on my plate and keep my head down.
We’re not friends. We’re not anything anymore.
I can’t believe I told them I want to be a teacher. It went over far better than I expected though. A slow smile spreads over my face, thinking about what my father would say, knowing part of his legacy dreams of a career making well below six figures a year. More like half that.
I’m lying on my back on my bed, one hand tucked under my head with a half-smoked joint in the other. I cracked the window in my room. Lola would kill me if she knew I was smoking in here.
I hear a shrill shriek coming from the room next to me and sit up, listening and hear it again. I can’t believe that sound actually makes my cock stir in my sweats. Fucking Viv.
I climb off my bed, putting the joint out with spit on my fingers and tucking it safely away. I walk out of my room quietly, knowing Baz is asleep down the hall and it’s late. Viv’s room is dark except for a light glow from her television.
I hear the screams again, accompanied by the psycho killer soundtrack playing loudly and push the door open just enough to see Viv alone on her bed, watching with her eyes wide. My mind goes back to the theater room in her house, her hands down her pants, begging me to watch her get off, pleading with me to do the same.
My throat goes dry, and my cock twitches again, thinking about one of the most erotic experiences of my entire life. And of course, she was my costar.
“You still watch scary movies?”
She barely lifts her eyes away from the screen, she must have noticed me. I slip inside her room, quietly clicking the door closed behind me as I stand just inside her large room. She doesn’t tell me to get out, just pulls her covers further up to her chin as she watches the movie and answers, “Of course I do. I think I'll always love them. The ultimate high.”
Always looking for a thrill. I look at the television and recognize Jason as he quietly stalks campers. “Yeah well, thanks to you I’m pretty sure scary movies will always make my dick hard.”
She looks over at me now, her eyes wide. Shit, I said that out loud. The pot is pretty damn good in California.
“Are you high?” Her nose scrunches slightly as she smells the pungent scent from the weed I smoked in my room only moments ago.
I drag my hand over my face. “Maybe.”
She nods, not seeming to judge or care as her gaze shifts back to the movie. “We all have our vices.”
I nod my head, still not moving from my spot by the door and briefly wonder if she wants to play. I try to brush that thought away though. Besides, she plays with Sawyer now. The cruel jealousy I wish I didn’t feel creeps up, thinking about his hands on her. “And does Sawyer love them too?”
She doesn’t look at me, but I can see her thinking as she sits with her back against the padded headboard, her fluffy comforter pulled up to her neck. “You know? I have no idea whether he likes scary movies or not. It’s never come up.”
“Wow. You guys really aren’t together.”
It wasn’t really a question, but I’m still not sure I believe it. Her eyes meet mine in the darkened room. “I told you we weren’t.”
I scoff bitterly. “Right. And I should definitely believe everything you tell me.”
She looks annoyed and a little hurt as she shifts her attention back to the movie, apparently deciding it’s not worth the fight.
I take a step closer to her bed. “I didn’t believe you.”
“I don’t really care, Asher,” she sighs and sounds tired but not from the day. Of me. She watches the screen, her eyes wide and lost in the moment as someone dies a gory death that she’s already seen many times.
I watch with her, taking a seat on the edge of her mattress as far away from her as I can get but still being here with her. I can’t seem to stay away. I want to. I know I should.
And it confuses me.
It infuriates me.
And it sickens me.
“I’m not in a relationship with Sawyer. I never was. I thought we might head in that direction, but we just didn’t click that way.”
I scoff again, my hand running through my hair as I keep my eyes trained on the television. “It seemed like you were clicking just fine the other night.”
I hate the jealousy seeping from my voice. “Sex. It’s sex, Asher. You think of me as this girl that gets attached to any dick that comes her way.” My eyes widen as I turn around to look at her over my shoulder, surprised by her words. “But I've told you for a long time that’s not the case.”
“So, you are a Tinder girl after all.”
She shrugs her shoulders, letting the comforter drop to her waist, and I wish she hadn’t. I don’t want my eyes to float over her chest in that thin t-shirt, her nipples pressing against the fabric, revealing that she’s not wearing a bra. Christ. “I guess I am.”
My mouth is watering now, and I can tell myself it’s because I’m just a horny guy in my early twenties, but it hasn’t been that long since I got laid. It has everything to do with the memories of her.
“So, you couldn’t replace me with Sawyer?” I keep my tone level and my eyes on her face.
Her pretty eyes roll. “That’s not what I was trying to do. You guys may be similar, but you’re not the same men, not by a longshot. He cares about me. I care about him. He loves Baz, and we have some really great mind-clearing, freeing sex when we feel like it.” Her words sting, but I'm trying like hell not to show it. “It’s easy with him.”