by Mari Madison
ASHER
I watched as Piper pulled out of the yacht club, my heart thudding hard in my chest. I still felt the ghost of her lips on my own. Her hands in my hair. My hands on her hips.
Oh God. That was nice. That was really nice.
And really stupid, too.
Truth was, I hadn’t planned on kissing her. I mean, eventually I did. There was no way a girl with lips like that was not going to be kissed at some point. Just that at that moment, I was trying to be a gentleman. The knight in shining armor. Trying to make her feel safe and secure and make her see I wasn’t some asshole trying to take advantage of her current vulnerable state.
But then I’d caught her face. Her soul-deep brown eyes. And suddenly all common decency flew out the window. The knight in shining armor replaced by the caveman yet again. And I had kissed her. And I had enjoyed the shit out of that kiss. Before that cock-blocking valet showed up anyway.
But that was for the best, really. It was better to let her go. Let her go home. Live to make out another day. Which was a funny thought coming from me, actually. I mean, let’s face it, the majority of my dates ended in a sleepover; sometimes without me even knowing the date in question’s last name. Not a fact I was especially proud of, but it had become routine all the same. Wine them, dine them, bed them. Then begin the hunt for new prey.
But Piper was different. For one thing, she was my coworker. She was going to be in my life far beyond a morning after. Not to mention she had already proven a lot more difficult to impress than other girls. Which meant I’d need to take my time with her. Get to know her as a person. Figure out what made her tick. What turned her on.
Like that licking thing I did to her bottom lip. The one that had produced that soft moan of hers that had been like a jolt of lightning straight to my groin. I definitely had to put that one in the old memory bank for future reference.
Licking, yes. Water dates—definitely no.
I groaned, thinking back at my idiocy. What had I been thinking, hiring a yacht for the night? I should have totally realized she had a thing about water after her freak-out at the wedding.
But no, I’d wanted to impress her. To show off. To give her a magical night to remember. To be the Asher Anderson everyone expected me to be.
I sighed. Well, it had been a memorable night all right. But not exactly in the way I had planned. Thank goodness for that last-minute panic save. The clinch move in my playbook with the picnic out back. She’d relaxed out there—at least for a little bit. That was until I had stupidly brought up the whole water thing again. God, I really needed to work on my game. Usually I was so smooth. But she was so different from other girls. I felt unbalanced, awkward. I clearly needed to make some adjustments at halftime.
Still, I reminded myself with a small smile, I had gotten her to kiss me in the end. So it wasn’t a total loss. And I’d get to see her tomorrow, too. Bright and early, as she’d said. A time that should have filled me with dismay.
But somehow excited me instead.
Still smiling a little, I headed back into the main building. I had to pay the tab or at least put it on my mother’s account and let them know I didn’t need the boat tonight after all. I walked inside, heading toward the maître d’. But before I could reach him, a tall, willowy blonde stepped into my path.
Sarah Martin. Awesome.
“Asher!” she cried excitedly, her shining blue eyes fixing on me. “I can’t believe you’re here! I haven’t seen you in ages!”
I shrugged, trying to glance behind her to catch the maître d’s eyes. But he was clearly busy with another guest and would be no good for a rescue. “Yeah, I’ve been busy.”
“I bet!” she declared, nodding her head knowingly, her blond locks bouncing prettily against her shoulders. “I’ve been so busy myself! It’s crazy this year. I barely have time to get my nails done.” She giggled, presenting me with what looked like perfectly polished fingernails. But what did I know?
“Are you looking for your parents?” she asked. “’Cause they’re in the main dining room, hanging out with my dad.”
Of course they were. ’Cause heaven forbid I catch a break tonight.
Fuck it. They could put the dinner on my parents’ tab. I gave Sarah a smile before turning to leave. “Actually, I was about to—”
“Asher! I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight!”
I looked down to see my father, wheeling himself toward me in his wheelchair, a delighted look on his face. So much for a quick exit.
I watched as he approached, my heart squeezing a little as it always did when I saw him in this state. The once tall, proud man, reduced to a shadow of his former self.
The man who had hit him hadn’t bothered to stick around. And my father had almost died. He should have died, probably, with all the blood he’d lost. His leg had been shattered. His lung punctured. It had been touch and go for days afterward before he finally managed to fight his way through.
Dad had always been a fighter, after all.
“Hey, Dad,” I said, giving him a weak smile. “I didn’t know you would be here, either.”
He waved a hand. “You know your mother,” he said. “She hates eating out anywhere else. She and Sarah’s father are in there, blabbing about business again.” He made a loud huffing noise. “So as you can imagine I’m basically stuck here until I die of old age.”
I laughed. “Poor you,” I said. My mother’s lengthy “business dinners” were legendary. Legendarily boring, too. “Will she at least let you slip into the cigar room to pass the time?”
My father shook his head, looking mournful. “Sadly, my cigar days are behind me. Gotta keep in good health, don’t you know?” He made a gesture to his useless legs and rolled his eyes.
I nodded sadly. Sometimes I got the feeling that my father wished the accident had killed him outright. Allowed him to go out in a blaze of glory, rather than a dwindling flame. Once he’d been so vibrant. So full of life. Now he was a shell of the man he used to be. And it hurt to see him reduced to this.
“Come on, you two,” he broke in, gesturing to Sarah and me. “There’s room at the table for both of you. And you can assist me in not dying of boredom.”
I glanced longingly at the front door. It was the last thing I wanted to do. Just sit there and listen to my mother talk shop with Sarah’s father, a prominent businessman who was rumored to be running for mayor of San Diego. He already spent a ton of money advertising his businesses on News 9. Now the idea that he might be adding campaign money to the pile had prompted my mother to do a full-court press. Wine him, dine him, kiss his ass. Get him to agree to give her all his money to promote him on TV.
The worst part was, if I joined her, she’d expect the same from me. She loved the idea of the daughter of News 9’s biggest advertiser and potential government official on the arm of News 9’s golden son. Sarah and I had been pushed together since right after college when her longtime boyfriend took off overseas, neither of our parents evidently realizing that arranged marriages were no longer actually a thing in the USA.
Okay, it could have been worse. Sarah was super hot. And she was pretty fun, too. She had tons of energy and was always looking for the next party—and usually knew where to find it. We’d hooked up half a dozen times over the past few years—friends with benefits, I guess you’d say. She might have wanted more from me, but she also knew better than to ask for it. Which I had always appreciated.
I reluctantly allowed my father to escort the two of us over to the window table where Mom and Sarah’s dad were talking. Mom looked up and saw me—me and Sarah—and predictably her face lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Asher! My baby!” she crowed, rising from her seat. Sarah’s dad stood as well, sticking out his hand. I shook it then dutifully hugged my mother. She smelled of too much perfume and too much brandy. Guess the after-dinner drink
s were being served as a first course this evening. What a surprise.
“How’s the meeting of the minds going?” I asked, sitting down at the table like a good son. I considered looking at the menu: I was still pretty starving. But I didn’t want to get stuck here longer than I had to. I could pick up something on the way home.
Before my mother could answer, the manager stepped up to our table. He looked down to address me. “Sir, I see the boat you reserved is still in its slip,” he said. “Did you decide not to take it out tonight after all? The captain was wondering.”
“Ooh! You signed out a boat?” My mother’s eyes glittered.
“Yeah,” I said. I turned back to the manager. “But actually I’m not going to—”
“You should take Sarah out!” Mom interrupted. She turned to Sarah’s father. “I mean, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all!” her father exclaimed, after swallowing a large slug of scotch. “We’re going to be here a while, after all. And I’m sure poor Sarah is bored out of her skull.”
I watched as Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but her father waved her off. “I know, I know, sweetie,” he said. “You’re a good girl to humor your father. But why don’t you and Asher go and have some fun? Leave us to talk boring business. We’ll see you in the morning.”
Sarah turned to me. “Is that okay with you?” she asked. Her eyes were shiny and her cheeks flushed with excitement. She clearly wanted to go. Of course she did. And normally I would have had no problems taking her. Especially knowing what she’d be willing to do once we got out into open sea. Like I said, she was hot. I liked her a lot.
But damn it, now all I could think of was Piper. And the fact that I had sworn to her I didn’t trade out my dates halfway through the night. What would she think if she could see me here now? I imagined disappointment in her wide brown eyes. But not surprise.
Because this was the guy she expected me to be. The guy everyone expected me to be. Even my own mother.
I could feel all the table’s eyes on me. Waiting for my answer. My mom’s especially, drilling into me with a hard look. This is a big deal, those eyes said. Don’t fuck it up.
If I said no, Sarah would be hurt. Her father would take it as a personal affront. He might even decide to end the business dinner prematurely. Before handing my mother all the advertising money she was after. The money she would pretty much have sold her own soul to acquire.
Or, you know, the soul of her only son.
“What a great idea!” I declared with as much bravado as I could muster. I turned to the manager, flashing him a large grin even as I died a little on the inside. “Tell the captain to get her in gear. We’ll be out in a few minutes.”
Sarah smiled widely, clapping her hands. “Awesome,” she pronounced. Everyone at the table nodded, seeming to agree. My mother shot me an approving look but it only served to chill my insides.
This is the last time, I tried to broadcast silently. I won’t keep doing this for you.
I rose to my feet, reaching out to take Sarah’s hand. She leaned into me, so close her breast brushed against my arm. A move I was positive was intentional. An intention I once would have appreciated. But tonight . . .
“A night cruise,” she whispered, her breath against my ear. “How romantic is that?”
And suddenly, for the first time in my life, I was the one who was dreading the sea.
thirteen
PIPER
I was halfway home when my phone rang. At first I assumed it was my mom: After all, who else would call me at such a late hour? But as I glanced at the caller ID, I realized it was Toby at the Holloway House instead.
Which could only mean trouble.
I slipped the earpiece in my ear to answer. “Hello?”
“Piper,” Toby’s voice barked from the other end of the line. “Where are you? Can you come in tonight?”
I glanced at my car’s clock and cringed. It was almost ten already. Which meant by the time I got home and got to bed, I’d already be hurting when it came to my six AM wakeup call. If I took a shift tonight, I’d be pretty much guaranteed to be dead on my feet come morning. And, of course, I didn’t dare sleep in—not after all I’d done to make sure Asher would show up on time. Hell, if I arrived at News 9 even one minute late, he’d never let me hear the end of it.
“Toby, I worked last night, remember?”
“I know,” she said, her voice sounding guilty. “And I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency. But Jayden’s been crazy tonight. He flipped out on an orderly and broke his nose. A new guy—who threatened to call the cops.”
I winced. Jayden was probably only one call away from entering the juvenile detention program as it was. And once he went in, it was doubtful with his attitude that he’d be out anytime soon.
Oh, Jayden. Why do you do this to yourself?
But deep down I knew why. I knew all too well why he acted like he did. He was angry. He was confused. He was alone and scared. Just like I used to be. So he lashed out at those trying to help him—just like I used to do. He didn’t trust anyone to treat him right, because no one had ever treated him right before. And the only way to earn that trust was to shower him with love and attention and people who cared. Even when he didn’t deserve it.
Just as Toby had once done for me.
I let out a heavy breath. “Okay,” I said. There was really only one answer, after all. “I’m on my way.”
I kept driving, skipping the exit that led to my cozy apartment. To my warm, soft bed. Instead I kept on the freeway, heading further south, toward Chula Vista. Toward a night of confrontations and likely little sleep.
As I passed the exit to News 9, I wondered if Asher was on his way home now, too. I imagined him parking his car, walking into his house, stripping off his shoes and shirt, then his pants. He’d probably grab a beer and slug it down before heading to bed, dressed only in those boxer briefs of his. Those damn boxer briefs whose memory still made me feel a bit gooey.
As did that earth-shattering kiss I’d just received from the guy who wore them.
I groaned. Oh my God had that been a good kiss. Like Olympic medal–winning good. The way his mouth had clamped down on my own, his tongue invading without invitation. The way his hands had pulled me to him and the way my body went—as if it were made of magnets and he was nothing but iron. This was a guy who knew how to make a girl weak in the knees. A guy who could make a girl forget everything but the way she felt when she was in his arms.
Asher Anderson is the last person you should be thinking of right now, I scolded myself.
But how could I help it? In addition to basically being a real life sex god, Asher had also been so damn sweet. So understanding about my stupid phobia and so quick to change plans to accommodate me. I mean, he had probably spent hundreds of dollars renting that boat for the night. Yet I saw not a flicker of disappointment on his face when I refused to get on board. Sure, I supposed a couple hundred dollars was nothing to him—probably chump change he found in his couch cushions. But still—most guys would have been annoyed at the inconvenience at the very least.
But not Asher. He had taken it all in stride. Simply switched gears—no big deal. For all his reputation of being a playboy who went through women like, well, boxer briefs, he was surprisingly accommodating when the woman in question didn’t fall in line right away. He could have easily sent me home. Gone into the club and found easier prey. But he hadn’t. He’d stuck with me instead. He’d made the night end magically, despite my initial resistance.
And then there was that kiss. A kiss that hadn’t felt like a come-on, like an invitation—or insistence—for more. It had been just what it was. A simple kiss, no strings attached. Even if the valet hadn’t interrupted like he had, I knew somehow that Asher wouldn’t have taken it further. Wouldn’t have put me in the position where I had to turn him away.
It was like my favorite John Hughes movie, Pretty in Pink. Sure, Molly Ringwald and Andrew McCarthy got together in the end, but no one who watched the film would bet on them remaining a couple much after prom. They were too different, their upbringings like night and day. She would never be accepted in his upper class circle—and eventually he’d get sick of being ostracized by his friends and family due to his loyalty to her. He’d realize being poor wasn’t a cute quirky trait—and that Molly’s abandonment issues ran deep. A guy like him would never be able to completely understand a girl like her—even if he desperately wanted to—and all the money in the world couldn’t save her from herself.
I tried to imagine bringing Asher home to meet my mother. How horrified he’d be when he saw her broken teeth and scarred arms. About as horrified as I had been, I suppose, at the idea of going into that fancy club with him and enduring people’s stares.
Sure, I was a curiosity to him right now. A novelty—different than the usual girls he dated. But if I were to allow myself to succumb to his charms? To let him have his way with me? I knew exactly what would happen. What always happened with people like Asher. The curiosity would be sated. He would get bored. He would walk away. And then our work situation would become beyond awkward. If it continued at all.
I didn’t kid myself; they would not fire him if things went south between us. And I couldn’t afford to lose my one opportunity. Not at least until I had enough experience under my belt to get a new job at a new station in a similar capacity. Right now, at best, I’d be relegated to production assistant again. At worse, I’d be blackballed from TV forever.
Sorry, Asher. You’re hot. But you’re not career-ending hot.
* * *
I arrived at the Holloway House thirty minutes later. Toby met me at the door, her face flushed with relief. “Thank you for coming,” she said. “I’m so sorry to have to ask this of you. I know you must be exhausted.”