by T. K. Leigh
“Grams!” I exclaim, my face heating. I’d like to say I’m surprised by her forwardness, but I’m not. This is quintessential Grams.
“The trick is to date a younger man,” she whispers as I help her down the stairs, although she doesn’t appear to need it. “Many men my age aren’t able to…perform. Then again, there aren’t many men my age around.”
“How young are we talking?”
“Carl is only sixty-five.” She waggles her brows as we continue into the kitchen. “But when you reach ninety, twenty-something years isn’t that big of a difference.”
“Great,” a deep, gravelly voice interrupts.
We both look in its direction to see Sean, Asher and Jessie’s father, standing by the island, opening a bottle of wine. It’s evident where Asher and Jessie got their height from, Sean measuring around six-two or six-three. He has a slender physique, one I imagine he still maintains by his daily five-mile runs. His hair has grayed over the past decade, but it makes him appear distinguished. As Chloe would put it, Sean York is most definitely a silver fox.
“Glad to see Mom’s sharing all her dating stories with you, too.” He winks, then approaches, kissing my cheek, as if no time has passed since he greeted me this way. “Good to see you again, Iz.”
“You, too.”
“There’s nothing wrong with dating at my age,” Grams states.
“I didn’t say there was, Ma. But as your son, there are certain things I’d rather be left to the imagination.”
Grams places a hand on her hip. “I’m not sure what your father, God rest his soul, taught you about how these things work, but you’re only here because I had sex.”
I stifle a laugh. With each passing moment I spend with Grams, I become more and more at ease.
“Certain urges don’t go away because you get a few more wrinkles. But if you’d prefer, I can find someone else to spend time with. I hear there are some amazing dating apps out there.” She looks at me. “What’s that one called? Tingle?”
“Tinder?”
“That’s right.” She grins mischievously as she glances back at Sean. “I could find a new companion on Tinder, one I’m sure wouldn’t be interested in anything more than my company.”
“Please don’t. I doubt anyone close to your age would be on there anyway.” He blows out a long breath, shaking his head. “Come on. We’re in the great room.”
He places the bottle and several glasses on a small tray, then heads from the kitchen, making his way down a short flight of stairs and into a large room with vaulted ceilings overlooking the back of the property that abuts the lake. But with the sun having set, nothing but darkness surrounds us, the moon casting a slight glow over the snow-covered ground.
Grams loops her arms through mine once more. As we descend the stairs, she leans toward me. “He’s wrong. There are people my age on Tinder. How do you think I met Henry?”
I fling my eyes to hers. “You met a guy on Tinder?” I whisper.
“I’m old. Not dead.”
The instant we step into the great room, Jessie and Asher jump to their feet.
“There are my two boys.” She allows Jessie to hug her and kiss her cheek before turning her attention to Asher. There’s an affection between them that wasn’t there when she peered at Jessie, even though he’s named after her, which accounts for the feminine spelling of his name. Then again, Asher and Grams have always had a unique bond.
She brings her hand up to his cheek, and he briefly closes his eyes. I don’t know many men who have this kind of connection to their grandmothers. Hell, to their entire families. It confirms the fact that the fame he’s enjoyed this past year hasn’t changed his devotion to these people.
I hope it never will.
“Let’s all sit and visit for a while before dinner,” Reagan announces in the same pacifying tone I remember. She smooths a lock of her dark hair behind her ear, her brown eyes shining with excitement. “It’s not often we get together like this anymore, especially up here at the lake house. And to add Izzy on top of it… I’m not sure when we’ll all have the chance to do this again.”
“Come on, Grams.” Asher grabs her hand, leading her toward the couch where he and Jessie were sitting on opposite ends.
“I’ll take the reading chair.” She pulls away from him. “Isabella can sit on the couch.” Not allowing him a moment to protest, she lowers herself into the high-back chair. A self-satisfied smile crosses her face as she looks between Asher and me, both of us uneasy with indecision.
I do my best to pretend this isn’t a big deal, that there isn’t some hidden meaning behind me sitting between Jessie and Asher. It’s not the first time we’ve sat on this couch in this arrangement. But it’s the first time since I slept with Asher.
His eyes locking with mine, he extends his arm toward the couch. “Shall we?” My stomach flutters with the wings of a thousand butterflies, the sound of his voice causing desire to flood through me.
Feeling all eyes on me, my cheeks heat as I make my way to the middle of the couch, lowering myself next to Jessie, who greets me with that same charismatic smile he always does, none the wiser to any awkwardness about this situation. When Asher sits down, I face forward, meeting Reagan’s and Sean’s content expressions.
Sean pours wine into each of the glasses and hands them out. Once we all have one, he raises his own, waiting until we do the same.
“To things being back to the way they were.”
“The way they were,” everyone replies in unison, which I do half-heartedly.
I doubt things can ever truly return to the way they were. Not with this mess I’ve made.
Chapter Ten
“So you’re using your time up here as a writing retreat?” Reagan asks Asher around a mouthful of steak as we all sit at the large dining table enjoying the delicious filet mignon Sean prepared. I always found it endearing how he loved cooking, a trait he passed down to his sons. I often joked that I needed to marry Jessie so I wouldn’t starve, his kitchen skills far superior to mine, although I’ve improved since then.
“I hope to,” Asher responds, his voice devoid of any excitement or enthusiasm.
“He’s been blocked,” Jessie adds from beside me.
I try to stop myself from wondering if another woman ever sat in this chair. The idea of Jessie with another woman doesn’t upset me like I thought it would. But a woman sitting in the chair beside Asher? I can’t stomach the notion of him sneaking his hand under the table and squeezing her thigh. Of him leaning into her, whispering how beautiful she looks. Of him peering at her with all the love he once had for me. Now all I get from him is awkward indifference.
“I thought you’d written a bunch of songs,” Sean offers. “What did I hear you strumming earlier?”
“I can still write. I doubt I’ll ever be at a point where no melody or lyrics come. But everything I’ve written…” He slowly lifts his eyes to meet mine across the table. “It’s missing something. Almost like a piece of my soul has disappeared.”
I swallow hard at the honesty with which he speaks. It’s so heartfelt and pure, a stark contradiction to the games most other men play. But Asher has never been one to play games. He speaks from the heart, regardless of how much it may hurt him.
“That’s why I proposed coming up here, even in the dead of winter,” Jessie interrupts, reminding me of his presence.
I tear my eyes from Asher’s, grabbing my wine glass with a trembling hand and taking a large gulp. I glance around the table, no one the wiser about whatever just transpired between Asher and me…except Grams. She looks upon me with a mixture of intrigue and superiority, as if watching a carefully orchestrated chess match play out before her.
“You always did find this place perfect for allowing those creative juices to flow,” Reagan offers with a smile. “And what luck that Izzy’s here, too. It’ll be like old times. Isn’t that great, Ash?”
I try not to look directly at him, but I can feel his eye
s still trained on me. Hell, I doubt they’ve left me since the second I walked into the great room with Grams.
“Absolutely,” he replies curtly, the softness in his tone now nothing but a distant memory. “Like old times. Like nothing’s changed.” He stabs a piece of steak and shoves it into his mouth.
“What’s up with you?” Jessie hisses, leaning toward him. “You’ve been a prick since we got here. You’d think you’d treat Izzy with a bit more decency after all these years. She never did anything to hurt you.”
I blanch at his words. Jessie’s statement couldn’t be further from the truth. I did hurt Asher. We hurt each other. But what choice did we have? We’d fallen under the spell of the bubble we created around ourselves. But bubbles can only survive for so long before they burst. When we crossed that line between friendship and something more, we knew it wouldn’t last. I don’t think either one of us was ready to crash to the ground with such finality.
“You’re right. She didn’t.” He clears his throat. “I’m feeling a bit off.” He smiles a fabricated smile, pushing the Brussels sprouts around his plate, but Jessie’s inquisitive stare remains focused on him. “I ran into an old flame recently,” he fumbles, chancing a glimpse in my direction. “But she’s still with the same guy she was all those years ago.”
“Forget her,” Jessie encourages. “You’re Asher York. If she doesn’t see what thousands of screaming women at your shows do, then she’s not worth it.” He turns to me, nudging me with his shoulder. “Tell him, Iz.”
“Tell him what?” I ask with a shaky breath, the irony almost laughable. This dinner couldn’t get any more awkward if we all sat here naked.
“That this girl isn’t worth it. That he’ll find ‘the one’ when he least expects it.” When I don’t immediately say anything, Jessie continues. “There are plenty of fish in the sea. And your sea is about to become infinitely bigger.” He cuts into his steak, bringing a piece up to his mouth.
“She probably realizes she doesn’t deserve you,” I blurt out, much to everyone’s surprise. Much to my surprise, too. All eyes dart to me as heat rolls across my nape. “It’s probably why she keeps pushing you away. Why she’s settling for the path she chose. Because she doesn’t think she deserves your love.”
“Why would she ever think that?” he chokes out.
“Maybe it hurts too much otherwise. Maybe she doesn’t think it would ever work out. Maybe she doubts you’ll ever choose her.”
“Maybe she needs to stop trying to control every decision.” He leans toward me, his voice becoming increasingly impassioned with each word. “Maybe if she stopped thinking everyone would eventually hurt or abandon her, she’d see the truth that’s been staring at her for years.”
“And what truth is that?” Grams asks in a pointed voice. She gives me a knowing look before returning her attention to Asher.
“That I’d choose her if she’d let me.”
A self-satisfied smile tugs on Grams’ lips. “Trust me. True love always has a habit of coming back. It’s like a boomerang.” She levels her eyes on me. “You can run as far from it as possible, but it will find you. And if you’re not careful, it will knock you out cold.”
Sean rolls his eyes. I always found their relationship charming. Whereas Grams is on the eccentric side, Sean is pragmatic. An admirable quality, especially for an investment banker. I often wondered if he took more after his father, but I never met him. He’d passed away when Asher and Jessie were young. Regardless of the differences in personality, there’s no mistaking that Sean is Grams’ son. They both have the same blazing green eyes.
“But make no mistake,” she continues. “True love will come back. Some things you can’t fight, no matter what.”
“Exactly,” Jessie interjects, seemingly oblivious to the mounting tension between Asher and me. I have no idea how. Probably all the whiskey he’s consumed tonight. “Like the way I couldn’t fight the need to know who you were.” He flashes me a lazy smile, confirming my suspicions that his judgment is most certainly compromised. Good. Hopefully he won’t remember this strange conversation tomorrow. “Which is why I pretty much stalked you until you agreed to go to dinner with me.”
Reagan sighs, placing a hand over her heart. “When he first told us about you, I knew I’d like you. Especially since you made him work for it.”
“And she’s making me work for it again,” he announces. I fling my eyes to his, a silent question in my glare. He ignores me, the alcohol loosening his lips.
“You two are getting back together?” Reagan’s voice brims with excitement. “When I saw you here, I hoped you’d decided to give it another chance, but I thought—”
“We’re not back together,” I interject quickly, able to sense Asher’s muscles tightening across the few feet separating us. I don’t have to look at him to know that vein in his neck pulses with controlled irritation.
“Exactly.” Jessie smiles at Reagan before floating his eyes back to mine. “But I think Asher put it perfectly.” He leans into the crook of my neck, and I can smell the liquor coming off his breath. He always was an overly amorous drunk. “I’d choose you if you’d let me.”
The words don’t carry the same meaning as they did when Asher said them. Don’t cause my knees to weaken, my heart to pound, my skin to ache with the promise of his touch.
A chair scraping against the hardwood flooring cuts through, the sound loud and jarring. All eyes turn to Asher as he stands, chest heaving, glowering at Jessie, who still doesn’t seem to notice. Or his brain’s too foggy to register the obvious animosity in his brother’s stare.
“Is something wrong?” Grams asks, feigning confusion.
Asher opens his mouth. I can physically feel his need to tell everyone what’s eating him up. Instead, he blows out a labored sigh, scrubbing a hand over his face. When he returns his attention to the table, the fury and heartache are gone, his eyes almost vacant.
“I’m on a tight deadline. I should head back into the music room. See if I can find some inspiration.”
“Would you like some company?” I ask before I can stop the words from spilling from my mouth, the question a natural one. At least it was a decade ago.
“I wouldn’t be very good company right now.”
I nod subtly. “Of course.”
“Well, when I wake up tomorrow, I hope you’ll have something I can present to the label,” Jessie announces. “One song would go a long way as a good faith gesture.”
“I’ll try my best.”
Asher makes his way around the table, everyone standing to wish him luck. He pulls Grams in for a sweet hug, kissing her cheek, then doing the same to Reagan. Sean gives him a slight hug, as does Jessie. When he reaches me, there’s a brief hesitation before he places a chaste peck on my cheek.
“‘Later, Iz.”
I don’t know why that gesture leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I shouldn’t care that he bid me goodnight in the same manner he did his mother and grandmother. Shouldn’t care that his kiss lacked meaning, emotion.
But I’d rather he not kiss me at all if the only thing I feel when he does is forced complacency.
Chapter Eleven
One Year Ago
A wide smile tugged on my mouth as I stood in front of the massive vanity mirror in the even more inordinate bathroom, toweling off my hair after a shower. I didn’t have much longer until I needed to get out of here and catch my flight back to New York. After last night, I wouldn’t have minded if it were canceled. Sadly, despite a blackout that left all of Vegas without power or cell service for a little over twelve hours, that power came on this morning, flight operations having resumed at the airport, including my own.
I reminisced about the past forty-eight hours, an electricity filling me at how unexpected it all was. Running into Asher at a bar where he got up on stage and performed a song I hadn’t heard in nearly a decade. Learning he’d been hired by one of the top bands in the country to help write the songs for their
next album and was staying at their ridiculously posh house on the outskirts of the city. Watching the sunrise together before he drove me back to the hotel so I could get to the airport, only to find out my flight was canceled. Calling Asher, who offered a place to stay for the night. The sexual tension increasing with each passing hour, coming to a breaking point when the power went out.
As much as I didn’t want to blur the lines between us, something I fought against because of his relationship to my ex-fiancé, I couldn’t help but feel like this was the path we were always meant to take. Maybe meeting Jessie was a steppingstone on my way to Asher.
“Hey.”
Asher’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I straightened, my heart skipping a beat at the way he looked in a pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt, leaning against the doorjamb. His arms were crossed, causing his biceps to flex, which only served to make me want to drop my towel and feel him one last time.
“Hey.”
“So, I need to tell you something, but I don’t want you to freak out.”
“Okay…”
He pushed off the wall, his eyes averted. From this alone, I sensed I wasn’t going to like what he was about to say. He ran his hands through hair that was still damp from our sex-filled shower.
“That was Jessie on the phone.”
“And?” Considering the history between his brother and me, I doubted he’d bring him up unless it was important.
Asher didn’t say anything right away, simply staring at me. Then he sighed. “He’s downstairs.”
“What?” My heart plummeted to the pit of my stomach, frantic eyes searching his for an indication this was a joke. That this wasn’t real. But all I saw was the same honesty I always had from Asher.
I pushed past him, darting toward my suitcase. I hastily threw all my items back into it, a need to get out of this house overtaking me.
“Do you think he knows?”
“Of course not. Pretty sure he would have greeted me with a broken nose instead of a hug.”