by Olivia Chase
Jax nods. “For once, I agree with our big brother, dude.”
I tighten my jaw, fighting the heaviness in my chest at disappointing my brothers. It doesn’t matter if they both agree with each other. “I know why you feel the way you do, but I did what was right for me.”
“So there’s no changing your mind,” Smith says flatly. “Three years of hard work, of sacrifice, all down the toilet.”
Jax shoots him a look and rolls his eyes. Sighs. “Okay, Asher, you know we both disagree with your choice, but you’re right. You’re a free man. Still…will you at least take a little time to reconsider while you’re here? Dad would have wanted it for you. Remember how much he loved going to see your football games? How he supported your potential?”
My stomach sinks. Fuck. Low blow, bringing Dad up. He’s been gone almost six years now, and I’m still struggling to accept it. I know they’re right—Dad pushed hard for me to get the fuck out of Rock Bridge, to be something bigger, to make the Beckett name proud.
But I have to believe he’d understand my reason for leaving.
Plus, this bar was his place, and he left it to all of us in his will. That has to mean something, too. If he didn’t want me here, why would he have done that?
“Just…think about it,” Jax says. He stands from the desk and nods. “You know you can stay with me in the meantime.” He leaves the office.
Silence is thick between Smith and me. Since Dad’s death, Smith took over as parent for me and Jax. He’s the only parental figure I have—our mom disappeared when I was just one. I don’t like letting him down, but I can’t live my life to please him.
I’ve done enough of that.
I turn to go when Smith says, “I’m not gonna stop you. But I think this is a fucking mistake.”
“You’re entitled to think so,” I say without looking back. Disappointment floods my veins. I don’t know why—I expected them to act like this. But I guess it’s still kind of a bitter pill to swallow, knowing I let them down.
I leave the office and breathe a sigh of relief now the conversation is over with, but there’s still heaviness on my shoulders.
I’ve taken a big step in coming home and seeing Whitney, announcing my intentions to her. And now I’ve thrown down the gauntlet with Smith and Jax as well.
I’m finally home, where I was meant to be all along.
But I know that this is just the beginning, and fighting my way back into Whitney’s heart again will not be easy.
Whitney
My feet throb as I walk through the front door and lock it closed behind me. I start to toe my tennis shoes off and with stiff fingers, rub my lower back. Tonight was crazy busy, and I’m feeling the pain.
Not to mention the shock of the sudden appearance of Asher. Wow.
Thirteen months have gone by. Thirteen long, painful, slow months where I didn’t hear one damn word from him. Didn’t see him all this summer even, despite us being in the same damn town. Then he shows up out of the blue at Foley’s and turns my life upside down.
Asher is back and he wants to make things right. I don’t know what to make of that. I don’t know how to feel about it, either. Talk about unexpected.
“Whitney!” my dad hollers from the living room. His voice is a slur. Shit. He’s wasted. I try to fight back the disappointment tightening in my chest and go to him.
“What’s up, Dad?” I ask evenly.
He’s lying on the couch, a glass dangling in hand with only a small amount of amber liquid left in the bottom. Scotch—he must have had a shitty day at work. Dad’s usually a beer alcoholic, but when the legal firm he works at gets to him, he turns to the heavy stuff. Which is getting to be more and more lately. I’ve tried to encourage him to try working at another law firm—he’s a good attorney and could work anywhere—but he won’t change.
Dad turns bleary eyes to me. “I…I need another drink.” He waves the glass in my direction.
I draw in a slow breath and take the glass. Not going to refill it for him—he’s already going to be hung over as it is. I’ve gotta sweet-talk him into going to bed, instead. I reach toward him and take his hand. “Let’s get you into bed. Tell me about your day. Sounds like it was pretty crappy.”
He groans but acquiesces. His arm slumps over my shoulders as he stands and staggers beside me. “It was fucking ridiculous. Williams wants to take on this prick of a client, despite what I…what I want. The guy is an idiot, and the case is hopeless. Williams is just a greedy bastard.”
“I’m sorry, Dad,” I soothe as I walk him toward my parents’ bedroom. At least we’re in a ranch-style home. I can’t imagine trying to drag him upstairs.
I manage to lead him into the room. By now, my whole back is throbbing, and my knees ache. But I plop him into the bed and stretch him out. He and I have done this before, many times, and he sinks into the mattress and mumbles, “Fucking assholes.”
“I know, Dad.” I dig in my parents’ bathroom cabinet and get two Tylenol, then pour a glass of water and pop them on his bedside table. He’ll need them later when he wakes up from being passed out.
A moment later, I hear soft snores. He’s out. As I exit the room, I click off the light and close the door behind me. I desperately need a bath and a cup of hot tea. I’m tempted to add a shot of something stronger, but after seeing my dad like that, I don’t want to. Alcohol doesn’t really appeal to me much anymore. Not since he started this downward spiral.
I draw a bath. Slip into the steaming water and let its warmth envelop me. My body aches, and my mind is whirring a mile a minute. Asher was the last person I ever expected to see today. Or any day, for that matter.
Oh God, he looked so good, though. Faded jeans, T-shirt that shows off his athletic form. He’s even more muscled than I remembered from last year. Muscled and warm and so damn tempting. Thinking about his hand on my elbow sends a hot flush across my skin.
My breasts swell, and my nipples harden. Damn him for the way he makes me react to him sexually. I don’t want to still feel anything for him. We almost had sex that night, and then I never heard from him again. It was mortifying and hurtful, the utter silence that stretched over months and months.
Until today, when he shows up at work and declares he wants me. What the hell is that about? I don’t know what to think. What to feel.
I grab a bar of soap and run it over my body. The hot water is soothing my muscles, but my heart is still fluttering like mad. My stomach is a tangle of knots. Only Asher brings that out of me. I want to hate him for it, for making me so vulnerable. But deep down, I know I still want him.
I can’t help but think about the night in question, the night that changed everything between us. He and I were drinking some cheap red wine he’d gotten from the bar. No one at Outlaws drank wine, so we’d pooled our money together to buy two bottles and found a quiet spot by the lake to enjoy them.
We were talking about high school memories, people we had crushes on, strange students in our college classes, and so on.
Then Asher randomly asked me if I ever was attracted to him.
I was too embarrassed to admit the truth. I chugged more wine, laughed, felt the flush spread across my cheeks. Like anyone could not be attracted to Asher Beckett. Bad boy, sexy, with a reputation and a compelling smile.
I remember my belly fluttering with nerves when Asher leaned toward me and dared me to kiss him. Just a silly dare, nothing serious. But something made me lean forward and do it.
Then it went further.
His hand went up my shirt, his hands cupping my breasts, my body throbbing for him. All I could see and feel was Asher. He was my world in that moment, and I wanted nothing else but him right there.
Somehow, we both ended up naked, our bodies writhing against each other, mouths locked, heat pouring between us. We only stopped because he somehow managed to get himself together enough to pull away. Probably for the best.
At least, I tell myself that. Despite the ache that pulsed
in me afterward.
Then Asher went off to his junior year of college, and I never heard from him again.
Humiliation washes over me anew, and my arousal dampens. I stand from the bath and towel off, then drain the tub and went to my room. With Asher’s reappearance, it’s easy to forget the last year I spent embarrassed. Alone. Wondering what I did wrong, why Asher could forget me so easily when he was all I thought about.
I guess he didn’t forget me, after all.
I stretch out in bed, naked, and grab my phone from my bedside table. Open my bank account app. Make myself really look at it and take pride in what I’ve accomplished. After three years of scrimping, eating meals from home and foregoing shopping splurges, I have enough money to pay for the tuition that scholarships and student loans won’t cover for college.
My dream.
It’s taken three years of hard work, sacrifice, extra hours at Foley’s, kissing the asses of ridiculous customers to make it happen, but as of this month, I can make my dreams come true. Pursue my undergrad degree. Get the hell out of this house and make something of myself. Come spring semester, I can enroll in the university.
I won’t be responsible for my father’s drinking binges anymore. As much as I feel bad leaving it for my mom to deal with, I just can’t handle it. I need to focus on myself, not on caring for my parents. Even if it makes me feel bad, makes me feel selfish.
In the end though, I know they both want me to be successful. Despite my dad’s mess, he loves me. He’s struggling too. Unhappy in his career. Wanting something to change.
I’m not going to be like that—stuck in misery, hopeless, drinking for my solace, my escape.
I put my phone down on my bedside table and curl up under my sheets. I don’t want to think about Asher. I told myself I left him behind months ago, after not hearing from him. After months of feeling mortified that I somehow messed up by responding to his dare.
Years of being attracted to him. Years of silently wanting him. Then the one night comes along when he wants me too, and it ruins our friendship.
What am I supposed to do now? Do I believe that things will be different this time? That if we pursue something sexual, he won’t just up and leave? How can I believe in it?
My head starts to throb. I flick off my light switch and close my eyes, lying in bed. Willing away the headache. I don’t want to deal with this right now.
And yet…if I’m honest with myself, I’ve wanted him since it happened. I’ve wanted to see what it would be like to actually have sex with him. To feel him push deep inside me, his cock pumping deep, making me come.
It’s shameful to admit, but I do.
Asher has turned me on since the moment I first saw him freshman year in high school. Years of wanting him, fantasizing about him. And now he’s back in Rock Bridge, telling me he wants me too. What am I supposed to make of that?
It can’t be real. I must have hallucinated it.
But no way did I hallucinate the way he touched my hip. The back of my neck.
I push those mental images out of my head. So Asher is back in town. Doesn’t matter to me or change any of my plans. I’m over him—he can’t hurt me again. My future is plotted out, and it doesn’t include him.
I don’t know what to think of all of this or how to deal with it. But as I fall asleep, I can’t help but hope I’m not lying to myself.
I shouldn’t have come here.
It’s only been a couple of nights since Asher showed up unexpectedly in my life again, and I vowed not to let myself fall pray to his charms.
And yet here I am—in the one place I’m certain to find him.
“This place is insane!” Rylie shouts above the music. Her grin is wide, her lips bright red, and she’s nursing a light beer.
I give her a weak smile and try to not look as nervous as I feel. Of all the places I expected to be tonight, Outlaws wasn’t one of them. But Rylie wanted to see the local band playing, and since she’s one of my besties, I couldn’t tell her no. Even if it meant possibly facing Asher tonight.
Devon, Rylie’s older brother, shoots me a smile. His dark brown eyes are sparkling. He raises his beer mug. “How ya doing, Whitney?”
I shrug and try to pretend like everything’s fine. Like the idea of being in Asher’s proximity isn’t making every cell in my body on hyper alert. “Oh, fine.” I sip my beer, which is still mostly full, and glance around the bar.
I’ve only been in Outlaws once, a while ago, but I have to say, this place seems different than it was before. I remember it having a wild reputation as biker bar, a place where bad boys and girls frequented. Not people like me, innocent and responsible. Boring.
But tonight, it’s filled with average joes, not wild and crazy boys. It’s a place for…average people. Definitely a big change in here. Closer to Foley’s than they’d probably want to admit.
Devon shifts, and his thigh brushes mine. I shoot him a friendly smile. I’m trying to not assume anything, since it may have been an accident, but he’s been kind of flirty over the last couple of months. Just minor comments here and there, small touches of my hand. I’m not interested in him that way.
On paper, he seems perfect for me—friendly, outgoing, smart. But he doesn’t set me on fire. Not the way a certain someone I’m not thinking of does.
I straighten my skirt, smooth down the front of my tank top. I can tell myself all I want that I’m not thinking about Asher, but I totally dressed to look good tonight. Took time to put on makeup, fix my hair, show a little skin. I don’t know if it’s to let him see what he’s missing out on or if I’m trying to flirt with him, to see if he wants me the way he says he does. Maybe a little of both, if I’m honest.
A new song comes on, one that has a dirty grind and strong beat, and Rylie grabs my hand. “Let’s dance!” There’s a small area in the corner where drunk girls are wiggling and shaking their asses. It’s not a dance floor, per se, though it’s definitely drawing the attention of many of the men in the bar.
I start to say no when I see Asher behind the bar. A girl is leaning toward him, wearing a tube top and booty shorts, and he’s smiling at her as he pours a beer. Jealousy hits me hard. “Okay, let’s go,” I say.
We head to toward the group and begin to gyrate to the music. Our hands go in the air and we’re moving our bodies, and after a minute or two, my mind is clear and I’m focused on the music. It feels good to just enjoy the moment.
“My brother is madly in love with you,” Rylie says with a wide smile. “I’m sure you can tell.”
My heart gives a little thud. I mean, I could tell he had feelings for me, but love? “Wow, really?”
“Anyone with one eyeball can see how he feels.” She snorts and does a little spin-shimmy move. “I think he’s going to ask you out soon.”
“He’s a really nice guy,” I say, pasting a smile on my face. The idea of him asking me out makes me nervous, and not in the good way.
Rylie’s gaze narrows on me. “But he’s no Asher.”
A hot throb works its way through my chest. “And that’s a good thing, because Asher is a jerk.”
The music changes, and we move away from the dance area. “I know. I remember how upset you were with the way he treated you. What does he expect to happen? That ship sailed, and it’s his fault.”
I told Rylie about him showing up at my work out of the blue. After all, she was the one who held me and stroked my hair many nights as I cried in her arms over his silence, his rejection. “I know.” I sigh.
She rubs my back. “I just don’t want you to get hurt again. And a guy like him is only going to break your heart.” We settle back into our seats. Devon’s gaze rakes over me as I slide in beside him.
“You guys have some good moves,” he says with a broad grin. “Well, at least you do, Whitney. Rylie dances like her legs are broken.”
She shoves him with a snort. “Shut up, jerk. I do not.”
The two of them pick at each other for a mom
ent, going back and forth. I just watch them. Despite the teasing, they have a good relationship. Devon’s responsible and caring without being overbearing or pushy. For the millionth time, I study his profile, the strong line of his jaw, his flashing eyes, and wonder why I don’t feel something for him.
“You do know this isn’t Foley’s, right?” a deep voice says from beside and above me.
I glance up to see Asher standing there, eyes hard and fixed on me. There’s a heat crackling in them that steals my breath. My whole body lights up, and my skin feels like it’s on fire for him.
Asher slides in on my other side, wedging me between the two men. His hard, hot thigh pressed against mine makes my core give a painful squeeze of longing. Stop it, stop it, I chant to myself. I’m not going to let him see how he’s affecting me. He can’t hurt me again.
“Don’t you have work to do?” I tell him airily.
Devon and Rylie have gone quiet. Asher gives them a nod of acknowledgment.
“Asher,” Devon says with a nod in return. “How ya been?”
“Eh.” Asher shrugs, then turns his attention back to me. “Things are getting better now.” There’s undeniable warmth in his tone. His eyes are blazing with fire, like he’s fucking me right now in front of everyone.
God, he isn’t holding anything back. And my traitorous body is responding to his assertiveness. My nipples are getting hard, and I’m squeezing my thighs together. He hasn’t even put a hand on me, and I’m ready for him.
Stay strong, I tell myself, but that voice is getting weaker in his proximity. Asher has never looked at me like this before, like he wants to possess me. Strip me and own me.
His hand reaches down to brush my thigh, and I suck in a shocked breath. He doesn’t even care that Rylie and Devon are right here. His boldness toward me knocks me off center.
Asher wasn’t messing around when he said he wanted me. And I have no idea what to do, because every single atom in my body is screaming that I want him, too.