Dangerous Games: A Standalone Second Chance Romance

by T. K. Leigh

  “Then why—”

  He placed his hands on my biceps in an attempt to placate me, but nothing could. This all just got real. A little too real. I’d known what I was getting into last night. Had known the ramifications and ignored them. The blackout bubble had seduced me into thinking we wouldn’t suffer the consequences of our actions. At least not anytime soon. For once, I’d chosen to live in the moment. And now we’d both have to pay the price.

  “He heard about the blackout and came out to check on me.”

  “From Boston? How did he get a flight if the airport just reopened?”

  He licked his lips, his gaze steady, expression calm. “Because he doesn’t live in Boston anymore.” He swallowed hard. “He lives in Los Angeles. He’s…” He hesitated. “He’s my manager.”

  My body froze, his words a punch to the gut. “Your manager?” I squeaked out, blindsided.

  Granted, I’d never asked who his manager was, or if he even had one, but considering my history with Jessie, I would have thought he’d mention that little tidbit of information. It wasn’t just a familial relationship I was dealing with here. Asher and Jessie had a professional relationship, too. It was like learning the guy I’d just had amazing sex with was my ex’s new boss. But it was worse with us, because I should have known better. There was so much more at stake than I ever could have imagined.

  “Yes.” He didn’t embellish further, but he didn’t need to. It made sense. Jessie was a business major, a natural salesman. He could charm the squirrels out of the trees in the dead of winter, even though they knew it was their only means of protection against the elements. There was no one else Asher would trust with his career. It was always their plan.

  I shook off his touch, shrinking into myself. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It didn’t seem like it mattered.”

  “Didn’t seem like it mattered?” I repeated, my voice rising in pitch. I quickly lowered it, unsure where Jessie was. For all I knew, he could have been eavesdropping outside the door. “It matters. It matters a lot. So… What? You let Jessie in and then came up to fuck me one last time before dropping this bomb?” My disbelief at this situation growing, I grabbed the first pair of pants I found in my disheveled suitcase and yanked them on, not caring about my lack of underwear.

  “It’s not like that, Iz. I’m as surprised as you are. I bought us a little time and have him in the studio, listening to some demos I’ve written for a solo album I have in the works.”

  I slowed my motions, finding solace in the fact that Jessie was locked away in the opposite end of the house. Then memories from last night floated back and my eyes widened.

  “Asher! My pants and tank top are in there! They have my perfume all over them. The same perfume I wore back in college. The same perfume he bought me repeatedly. If he picks them up and—”

  “Relax,” he soothed, running his hands down my arms. “I brought them back up here before letting him in.” He nodded at the pants I just tugged on. “You’re wearing them.”

  “That still doesn’t make this okay.” I pushed out of his hold, grabbing a bra and slipping it on, turning from him. After tugging on a shirt, I added, “You should have told me.”

  “Would that have changed anything?”

  I whirled around to face him, my mouth agape, about to insist it would, but stopped myself. Would it have changed anything? Would I have wanted Asher any less than I did last night?

  When he reached for my face and brushed his fingers against my skin, I couldn’t help but melt into the contact. One touch was all I needed to reassure me that his intentions were noble, even if the outcome was less than desirable.

  “I understand I should have mentioned it. But I didn’t want to burst our bubble. Wanted to prevent you from enduring any heartache.” He brought his lips toward mine, and I sighed at the promise of his kiss. “Just like I tried to do all those years ago.”

  I melted into him, digging my hands into his hair, his words wrapping around me like a blanket. But as the meaning in his statement sank in, I stiffened, pushing against him.

  “What did you say?”

  Disoriented, he blinked repeatedly. This time, he was at a loss for words. “I—”

  “What heartache did you want to prevent all those years ago?” I stepped back, eyeing him with suspicion, a knot tightening in my stomach.

  “I…,” he stammered, his breathing quickening.

  “What heartache did you want to prevent?” I asked again through clenched teeth, my temper flaming.

  He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. The answer was etched in the worry lines on his face. In his pleading eyes. In the hard bob of his Adam’s apple.

  “Oh, my god. You knew. That’s what you mean, right? When you said you tried to prevent my heartache, you’re talking about that night, aren’t you?”

  Again, he remained silent. What was there to say?

  “How could you keep that from me? You knew what I was walking into, yet—”

  “No.” He darted his eyes to mine, that vein in his neck throbbing. His fists clenched, every muscle in his body vibrating with a passion I’d yet to see in another person. Even him. “I had no idea what you were walking into.”

  “But—”

  “Maybe you’ve forgotten, because the story you told last night left out quite a few things.”

  “I didn’t think it necessary to go into all the gory details.”

  “Really?” Defensive, he folded his arms across his chest. “Is that why Chloe didn’t even seem to know what happened? Why she appeared just as interested in the story as someone who’d never heard it? Because you didn’t think it necessary to go into ‘all the gory details’ with one of your dearest friends when it happened? Don’t you always say that keeping the truth is as bad as lying?”

  “That’s not the same, and you know it. The details didn’t involve Chloe.”

  What could I say to him? That the reason I’d left out so many details about the night I ended my engagement to Jessie was because of what I feared it would finally reveal. That the real reason I’d broken up with him wasn’t because he sought comfort in another woman’s embrace.

  It was because I realized I’d fallen in love with his brother…

  “You kept something from me that affected me directly,” I continued.

  “According to what both you and Jessie told me about the fight you had before Christmas break, it seemed you’d written him off, even if you claimed you weren’t sure about what your plan was. Hell, he said you tried to give back the ring, but he begged you to keep it.”

  “All the more reason he shouldn’t have sought out his ex,” I snipped back.

  “Agreed, but you also can’t stand there and blame me for this.”

  “You still should have told me what you knew about Jessie.”

  “Goddammit, Izzy!” He slammed his hand into the wall, frustration radiating from his fist, spreading up his tense arm and through the rest of his body. “I’m not saying what Jessie did was right, but he was in a really bad place. I wanted to tell you Candace had started circling like a hawk again.” His head hung as he expelled a breath.

  “Then why didn’t you?”

  It wasn’t the fact that he kept this from me that had betrayal flowing through my body. Once I’d realized my feelings for Asher, I knew I could never be with Jessie again. It was the realization of the truth that had been screaming at me ever since I first felt myself falling victim to Asher’s hypnotic spell.

  He would always choose Jessie.

  “He’s my brother.” His voice was choked as he brought his eyes back to mine. “I couldn’t betray him like that.”

  All I could do was nod at his confirmation of my suspicion, the lump in my throat bordering on painful, cutting off my oxygen. This was the reason I walked away all those years ago. And the reason I should have walked away the other night. There was no possible way for us to have a happy ending. Not when it meant hurting someone we
both loved. And despite it all, I still loved Jessie. At least the Jessie he was when we dated.

  A loud chiming cut through the tension, causing Asher to flinch. I had no reason to believe it, other than a feeling in my gut, but I knew the alert was a text from Jessie. I didn’t say a word, just glanced at the outline of a cellphone in Asher’s pocket. I could tell he struggled between staying in the moment with me and seeing what his brother wanted. When it chimed again, he groaned, yanking it out.

  “You should go,” I said softly, turning from him. “Distract him. I’ll finish packing and be out of your way.”

  “Please, Izzy. I don’t want to leave you like this. What can I do to make up for it? I’ll do anything.”

  I glanced over my shoulder as I was about to disappear into the bathroom. “We both know there’s nothing you can do. Jessie will always come between us. We were fooling ourselves to hope otherwise.”

  “He doesn’t have to. We don’t have to let him.”

  I forced a smile, although my heart was breaking. I stepped toward him, a breath away. “I think you already have.”

  He parted his lips, but I placed a finger over his mouth, silencing him. Then I hoisted myself onto my toes, kissing him one last time. A lone tear slid down my cheek at the finality of it all.

  “Goodbye, Asher.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Present Day

  I blink away my tears as that day replays in my mind, the emotions as strong and vibrant as if it happened yesterday. It serves as the reminder I need right now. Despite Asher saying he’d choose me if I’d let him, it’s most likely an empty promise. When it really matters, he’ll realize I’m not worth him risking that relationship, that bond I can’t even begin to comprehend.

  On a long sigh, I look around the tranquil bedroom. It’s exactly as it was last night when I fell into bed, yet it seems different, the dawning of day casting everything in a new light. When I reach for my cellphone and see it’s already after nine, I toss the duvet off me.

  My feet hit the cold, hardwood floor, and I quickly step into my slippers before shuffling into the bathroom. After I splash some water onto my face, I readjust my dark hair, smoothing it back into a tight ponytail. Content with my appearance, I grab an oversized cable knit cardigan and pull it on over my tank top and pajama pants, then leave my bedroom.

  Silence greets me when I emerge onto the first floor, the house lacking the vitality and life it had last night. I continue past the living room and into the kitchen, expecting Sean or Reagan to be sitting at the island, Sean looking at a newspaper, Reagan with a book in front of her. Instead, it’s empty.

  I make my way toward the dining area, peering over the railing and into the great room, which is also vacant.

  “Peaceful, isn’t it?”

  I spin around to see Grams, leaning against the kitchen counter, surprising me once again. I’m not sure what to make of her outfit — black capri yoga pants, an off-the-shoulder black t-shirt with the Rolling Stones logo, and a Tibetan scarf wrapped around her head, the remains of the material flowing over her shoulder.

  “I think that’s why I’ve been spending more and more time here, instead of living with Sean and Reagan at their house near the city. No constant noise. You can really get in tune with yourself.”

  “I suppose.” I smile as I walk past her. When I pop a pod into the one-cup brewer, the aroma of coffee fills the kitchen, comforting my soul.

  “So have you?”

  “Have I what?”

  “Gotten in tune with yourself.”

  “I’m already in tune with myself.” I grab the milk out of the refrigerator, keeping my back to Grams as I pour some into my mug.

  “If you say so. But I sense a struggle within. Like you’re at a crossroads.”

  I face her. “I’m not at a crossroads.”

  “It seems you are.” She lowers herself onto one of the barstools by the kitchen island and pats the one beside it for me to sit, which I do. “You have a choice to make.”

  “There’s no choice to make. Everything is fine. No crossroads. No battle. No nothing.”

  She squints, her analytical stare raking over me, lips pinched. “Did Jessie or Asher ever mention a girl named Emilia Morgan?”

  “Not that I can recall.”

  “She was a friend of theirs.” She floats her gaze from mine, peering into the distance. “Moved into the district when Jessie was in seventh grade. But she was involved with the music program, so Asher knew her, too. Throughout middle and high school, the boys spent a lot of time with her, usually in big groups, as is so often the case during adolescence. Jessie certainly had a thing for her.”

  “And Asher?” I ask timidly, not sure I want to hear a story about Asher and his long-lost love.

  “I think he saw her as someone he shared a certain level of comfort with. There weren’t any romantic intentions there, but Jessie didn’t see it that way, especially when Asher told him he planned to ask her to prom.”

  “Why didn’t Asher explain they were just friends?”

  “He did. But Jessie always felt like he grew up in his brother’s shadow. At an early age, Asher exhibited a talent for music. Jessie always put on a smile and said he was proud of his brother’s accomplishments. I think there’s a part of Jessie that will always be envious of him. Even if there was nothing romantic between Asher and Emilia—”

  “Jessie saw it as another thing his brother had that he didn’t,” I interrupt, putting the pieces together.

  “Precisely.”

  I pause before asking my next question. “What happened?”

  When she brings her eyes to mine, they’re sad. “She disappeared. Almost twenty years ago now. Asher was seventeen. Jessie sixteen. One day, she never showed up for school. When the administrative office called to inform her mother, she said she hadn’t been home all weekend, thought she was spending it at a friend’s house. When that friend was questioned, she said she hadn’t seen her since the previous Friday. By the time she was reported missing, it was hard to pinpoint when she’d been taken. Or from where.”

  “Did the police ever find her?”

  She blows out a sigh. “No. During the course of the investigation, the police found out she’d gone to a clinic after school that Friday. She was pregnant.”

  “Was it…”

  “Jessie’s or Asher’s?”

  I nod.

  “No. The police questioned both boys, since they were friendly with her, but both denied so much as kissing her. They believed them. In fact, according to all the kids at school, she was quiet, reserved, withdrawn, didn’t have a boyfriend. That was why Asher had planned to ask her to prom. He was always a popular kid, could have had his pick of any girl, who would have gladly gone to prom with him. He said there was always something sad about Emilia, said he wanted to make her feel like she belonged. And it wasn’t just an invitation out of pity. As I said before, he truly did enjoy her company. Liked that he didn’t have to pretend to be interested in her, as he did with so many of the other girls who sought him out. Plus, they had a similar taste in music. She was a fan of the blues.”

  “Like Asher,” I breathe.

  “Exactly.”

  “So she disappeared without a trace?”

  “No body. Nothing in nearly twenty years.”

  I shift my gaze forward. No wonder neither of them spoke of her. I doubt I’d be able to if I’d lost someone and never got any closure.

  Returning my eyes to Grams, I furrow my brow, confused. “That’s a tragic story, but I’m not sure what it has to do with me.”

  She pinches her lips together in contemplation. “I’m not quite sure, either,” she admits after a brief pause. “I guess I just wanted you to know that you’re not the first girl to come between those boys.”

  “I’m not—”

  She holds up her hand, cutting me off. “Don’t underestimate the bond they share. You may think Asher will destroy his relationship with Jessie if he were to p
ursue something with you—”

  “He would. How could he not? It’s been nearly ten years, but Jessie’s not over it. He still regrets it. He’d be crushed if he learned his brother and I started dating.”

  She grabs my hands in hers, squeezing them tightly. “Don’t forget who Jessie is. He’s made a career out of doing everything to help Asher achieve happiness. In the end, that’s all Jessie wants for his brother. I truly believe with every fiber of my being that once Jessie realizes just how happy you make Asher, he’ll understand. In fact, he’ll probably be your biggest cheerleader, just as he’s been for Asher all these years.”

  “But what if you’re wrong? What if this does destroy their relationship? There will always be another girl. Asher will never have another brother.” I repeat the same argument I’ve made to myself more times than I can count.

  “Didn’t you hear him last night? He’d choose you if you’d just let him. So maybe you should stop trying to protect your heart and just let him choose you.”

  I part my lips, on the brink of insisting it’s a fool’s game, when she continues.

  “If you can’t do that, you can at least bring the boy a cup of coffee.” She nods toward the window over the sink that boasts a stunning view of the lake. The sunlight glimmers on it, casting a beautiful sheen on the snow covering the rest of the property. But that’s not what catches my eye. It’s the familiar figure sitting in our spot at the end of the dock.

  “If I bring him a coffee, will you stop trying to play matchmaker?” I groan, feigning annoyance.

  “I’ll never stop trying to help two people who are meant to be together find their way back to each other.”

  Playfully rolling my eyes, I push out of the barstool and head to the counter, getting to work on preparing a coffee the way Asher likes it. “Pretty sure Jessie wouldn’t take too kindly if he found out what you’ve been scheming behind his back.”

  “Keep Jessie out of this.”

  “I don’t quite think that’s possible.”

  “Anything’s possible, my dear girl. Now go.” She shoos me away. “I need to do my morning meditation exercises anyway.”