Sweet Ruin

by Nazarea Andrews

Asher, Luca—they didn’t matter. They couldn’t matter.

  I look at the message again and bite down on my tongue to keep from screaming.

  Kevin: Where’s the press you promised? Everyone wants to know where Knox is.

  Me: I said I needed time. Don’t worry—you won’t be able to miss this, when it hits.

  He doesn’t respond, which is fine. I don’t want to deal with my uncle.

  Frankly, I don’t want to deal with any of my family.

  Asher

  “What the hell just happened?”

  Luca drops across one of the full-sized beds and stares at the ceiling blankly. If he knows I’m here at all, he’s doing a damn good job of pretending I’m not.

  I stare at him for a second then retreat to the bathroom, stripping out of my clothes and climbing into a hot shower.

  I understand his anger and shock. It stings, more than I want to think about, that she didn’t even hesitate before denying anything between us. It’s not surprising—but it hurts. The door creaks open, and Luca stands there, looking fragile and broken—there is no sign of the strong man who has been so very clear about what he wants.

  That hurts, too. That she can break him so easily.

  I pull the curtain back a little, a silent invitation. Luca doesn’t waste any time, shedding his clothes and stepping into the spray. There is a surreal moment when I think about the fact that I am naked in a shower with another guy, but it fades as I tilt his chin up and study the bruised look in his eyes.

  “This isn’t the end, Luc,” I say softly.

  “So what if it’s not? I can’t do this knowing she’ll end it before we get home—I can’t let myself fall in love with you if I have to give you up.”

  His words echo through the little bathroom, and I shiver, absorbing them. “You already love her.”

  He nods, a bitter look on his face. “I do.”

  “And me?”

  Surprise flicks across his face, and I lean down, kissing him lightly, a feather soft touch. “What about me?”

  “I—”

  I reach between us, cupping his erection, and he groans. “How do you feel about me, Luca?” I ask, my voice a soft tease. He arches into my touch, and I laugh. I let him go, and twist him so I’m pressed against his back. “How. Do. You. Feel.”

  “Asher,” he whimpers.

  “I’m only asking,” I say, stroking his erection slowly, my tone almost conversational, “because I’m falling in love with you.”

  He gasps, his cock jerking, and I smirk. “I wouldn’t be here,” he gasps, “if I didn’t love you.”

  Luca twists, staring at me over his shoulder, and I see nothing but stark honesty in his gaze. “Both of you. I love you both.”

  And there it is. The words we haven't said, not in the thousand miles on the road or the flirting or fooling around. All his cards are on the table, and it hits me hard, that he has more invested in this than any of us.

  I want to chase that thought, but I want to make the sadness in his eyes go away more. So I thrust against him, and he moans, pushing his ass back against my cock.

  "I've never been with a guy, Luc," I admit, and he looks over his shoulder again. "Not tonight, Luc. But soon." I kiss him again, and it's like a cue, as he moves, his cock thrusting into my grip on him. His eyes are open, when he comes. Watching me. Full of vulnerability that leaves me shaken. I slowly release him and move to step away.

  "If she leaves, you'll go with her."

  His word make me still. His shoulders hunch, and I hug him. There is nothing sexual in the touch, nothing more than an offer of comfort. It isn't much—but right now, as he leans into me, it's all I have to offer.

  Because the truth is I don't know what I will do, if I have to choose one of them. The idea is foreign, strange—they are a package deal, a pair.

  "So let's get dressed and check out the town. There has to be something to do, and it'll give you some time to cool off," I say. Luca nods against my shoulder, and I give him a final squeeze before I let go.

  We end up on Main Street. In a city the size of Branton—which is to say, tiny—there aren't a lot of places to wander. But it's charming, in a too sweet, Southern sort of way. It reminds me of home, if through a distorted lens. Classy boutiques and barber shops and a tack store line Main Street. There are a few small restaurants and the café Megan dragged us into when we got into town.

  It’s a college town, and for the first time, I feel nervous—what if someone recognizes me? Luca bumps me with his elbow, an innocuous touch, and I glance at him. His gaze is amused, knowing. “The café?”

  It had dark corners. Good place for making out and avoiding attention. Both attractive options in a town like Branton, or any college town, really. I nod.

  Its quiet inside Hill of Beans—apparently Thursday afternoons aren’t peak business hours. A thin young man with an infectious smile is standing behind the counter, a little girl sitting in a bouncy chair in his line of sight. Jeffery is nowhere to be seen.

  “Ah. Dirty chai and hot tea. Right?” the man chirps, and Luca freezes at my side. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea, coming here. The man looks up again and flashes another smile. “Jeff doesn’t gossip. But even he’ll mention an a-list actor and one of the finest models working walking through the shop. I’m surprised Meg isn’t with y’all—he mentioned that too.”

  There’s a smirk in his eyes, something that tells me this smart, fast-talking young man has no ill intentions. He hurries about making the drinks, tosses a couple blackberry scones on a plate, and slides the lot of it across the counter to us. “You can probably get some privacy upstairs—there’s a few tables up there, but it doesn’t get a lot of traffic.

  He nods at the thin staircase, and I glance at Luca. He shrugs and heads toward it with our drinks. I look at the barista before I follow, and the man smiles. “I’m Jason. And no one will bother you. Should I tell her where you are, if she comes in?”

  I ponder that—if she wants us to be around, shouldn’t we let her?

  I nod, once, and follow Luca.

  Luca

  I sit on the love seat—Jason didn’t mention when he directed us here that it was only two loveseats and a single oversized recliner, all spaced to give couples an air of intimacy.

  Asher places the scones on the table, and I sip cautiously at my dirty chai, watching him from under my eyelashes. He’s got something on his mind—and for once, I don’t think it’s that he’s fooling around with a dude.

  “What do you want to do?” he asks, and I know without asking what he’s talking about.

  Megan’s presence is felt like a wound, a warm, feisty spitfire that is painfully absent.

  “I can’t force her to accept this. I want her to. But I can’t make her do something she’s decided not to.”

  Asher laughs and shakes his head. “Dude. You talked me into being with you. You could talk an Eskimo into buying ice.”

  “I don’t want to ‘talk her into’ it. I want her to be with us because she wants to be—because she can’t imagine being with anyone else. Because life without us would be awful and broken.”

  I stare at him, and he flushes, looking away irritably. “What?”

  “You just throw it all out there, don’t you. This is what you want. This is what you feel. This isn’t a you/me thing. It’s an us. You put so much out there, and to hell with what other people think.”

  I sigh, thinking about that day. Fuck it. Why not tell him? “I never got to grieve, when Dylan died. Everyone knew he was with Sun, and I got the usual amount of ‘your best friend died’ platitudes. But my team, my other friends, hell even my parents—they couldn’t understand why I didn’t bounce back from his death, why I quit playing football. I couldn’t tell them—what would I say? Dylan was dead, and everyone knew he was head over heels for Sun. So mentioning that we were together, that the three of us were—it wasn’t an option. She tried, you know, to help. But people started talking, about us being together, and
we had to cool that off.”

  He looks at me, a look of startled horror, and I offer him a tight smile.

  “I dropped out. Got so depressed I couldn’t think about school or anything. I lost my scholarship, and I didn’t even care. I was a mess.” I take a deep breath and stare into my chai, trying to focus on that and not the nightmares of my past. It’s gone—done. A life I beat and moved past. “I tried to kill myself on his birthday. Took a drug cocktail and a drank a bottle of Grey Goose. I should have died—I wanted too, and I would have.”

  “Sun?” he whispers, softly.

  “She came over, wanting to talk. I was passed out, convulsing. She called 911, got me to the hospital and help. My parents didn’t know what to do—and without knowing what I had lost, they couldn’t help. Sun told them, while I was on psych hold.”

  He makes a sharp noise, and I smirk. “No, it was ok. They didn’t really get it—still don’t, actually. They hope it’s a thing I’ll outgrow when I find the right woman.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “I’ve tried, man. I tried girls, I tried guys. And it’s never been awful—ok, that one week with the girl on Days? That was awful.” He laughs, a warm noise, leaning back into his seat. His arm brushes mine, and I feel electricity spring between us, a live current of desire. “But it never felt right. It wasn’t complete. It’s not about the sex, Ash. I know a lot of people think it’s about the kink, and I’ll say the sex is amazing—I love that part. But it’s this. It’s you knowing I’m upset, and being here, talking me through it. It’s knowing that she’ll keep us in line, and when you hit one of your moods, we can drag you back. It’s falling asleep to the sound of you breathing, and her pressed between us. It’s not sex—it’s the entire fucking package. I know what that’s like—that was normal for me, and whatever people say about it, it’s what makes me work. I can’t do long term single relationships.”

  “No monogamy for you, huh,” he grunts, and I stiffen and look at him.

  “Oh no. Monogamy is a given. I’m with you and her. Which means I’m not with anyone else—and I expect it from both of you.”

  He nods, slowly, his eyes trained on me.

  “So if you’re so determined to be with her and me, why are we here and not with her?”

  “Because I can’t hide, Asher. And neither of you wants everything that will come with being a public triad.”

  He frowns, but doesn’t debate that. Instead, “If we want this bad enough, we’ll make it work.”

  “It doesn’t matter what we want, if she doesn’t want us.”

  Asher smiles, then, an arrogant tilt to his lips and a lazy look in his eyes that sets my blood on fire, and I find myself leaning into him.

  “You’ve been her best friend for almost two years. She’s been working with me, almost living in my house, for six months. We both want her—and she knows it. And she’s here, waiting for us. Now, after two years of waiting for the endgame, are you really going to walk because she threw up a road block? Come on, man. Step up. Show us both just how far you’ll push.”

  It’s a taunt, a deliberate one. I know it is, and I still can’t help that my hackles rise. I glare at him. “Seriously, English?”

  He leans into me, stealing a quick kiss. “Come on, Luc. Fight for us. I will.”

  Megan

  I stare at them from the corner of the staircase. They’re wrapped up in each other, lost in whatever they’re talking about. Asher leans his head against Luc’s shoulder. My hand, holding my phone, twitches, calling up the camera. Luc laughs at something Asher murmurs, and twists to drop a kiss on his hair.

  And I snap the pic, quickly, then drop my phone into my purse. It’s locked. They won’t know it was me. Without giving myself time to think, I backtrack down the stairs. Jason’s eyes go wide when he sees me, and he opens his mouth to say something. I shake my head quickly and beckon to him. With a last glance at the baby—and really, I need details on that—he follows me outside.

  On the windy, cool side walk, he arches an eyebrow. “What are you doing? Those two are waiting on you.”

  I look at him sharply and see it—he knows. I don’t know how he knows, but it’s there. He knows exactly what’s going on, and I don’t know how to deal with that.

  “I don’t know what to do, Jase. I—this wasn’t part of the plan. They weren’t part of the plan.”

  His gaze softens a tiny bit. Sympathy, coating the steel. Whatever he says, I won’t like it. But that’s always been Jason—the bitter truth, because sometimes, life is bitter.

  “Megan, those boys adore you. One look at them, I could tell that. Hell, Jeff could, and he’s about as obtuse as an ox. Maybe, sweetheart, it’s time to look away from the plan you’ve had and look at what you’ve got.”

  I shake my head, hard. “What does that ever do? I’d end up like Nik—miserable. In a marriage to a man I hate. Cheating just to get his attention.”

  He snorts. “Atticus isn’t with that harpy—and yes, I know. She’s your sister. But she’s a bitch. And you, despite all your fears that you’ll turn out that way, are nothing like her.” His gaze narrows. “Or you weren’t, when you left.”

  That stings. More than I like, because I know about the picture in my phone, the picture I could use to secure my job—and destroy this fragile thing we’re building.

  “I’m scared.” I whisper. “I don’t know what to do. I know what they want, and Jase, I’m scared. I want it, but I want my career. Whatever I choose, I’m losing.” I stare at him, this boy I grew up with. The kid I ran to when Nikki got too insane to deal with, the one who wanted to hang out with me because of me, and not my sister. The only guy who didn’t seem to notice I had a sister.

  Of course, Jase has been out since we were in eighth grade.

  “Megan, this isn’t a hard decision,” he says, turning back to open the door. A low laugh filters out—Luca—and the squeal of the baby. His gaze softens. “You choose the thing you can’t imagine life without.”

  I end up back at the hotel, alone. I stare at the picture for a long time, and something—god only knows what—keeps me from hitting send. It would be so easy, to cement my career. To let Kevin know how cutthroat I can be.

  He doesn’t believe it. He never has.

  The phone rings, startling me, and I stare as the picture of Luca and Asher vanishes, replaced by my sister’s smiling face. I swallow my sigh—it was only a matter of time until she realized I was home.

  Twenty-four hours is a damn good run, if you ask me.

  “Hey,” I say, trying to summon some enthusiasm to put in my voice.

  “Why on earth are you in Branton? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home? I would have picked you up.”

  “I drove in, Nik. And it’s for work, so I didn’t want to bother you. I can’t hang out.”

  She’s quiet, and then her voice changes, subtly. Takes on that sexy edge I’m used to hearing from Nik. “What kind of work?”

  “The kind that comes with NDA’s and bodyguards,” I say, too tired for this. “Nik, no. No intros, no sex. They just came to do some research.”

  She laughs. “In Branton? What on earth do we have that an actor would need to research?”

  I’m quiet, and then—because it’s Branton, and nothing stays secret, I tell her. “They’re working on Black Tides.”

  Her tone loses the sex, goes shrill. “You came home to see Atticus?”

  Ah yes, this is why I’ve been avoiding her. One of the many reasons. “No, Nik. I came here to let my clients relax before they start filming. If we happen to have an expert on hand, yes, I’ll use him. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “He’s my ex-husband,” she snaps.

  “Not my fault,” I shoot back, coldly. “That was no one’s decision but your own. Now. Are we going to do this, or would you like to grab lunch—and be civil about it?”

  She’s quiet, a startled silence. I don’t usually take the offensive—I let her run all over me
. That’s what I’ve been doing since we were little girls and she was pulling my braids.

  I never told Daddy. And she knew I never would. I wanted her approval too much.

  “Fine,” she huffs. “Tomorrow, at Maggie’s.”

  “See you at eleven.”

  She hangs up without saying goodbye, and I wonder if she thinks I’ll bring the boys. I wonder if she knows, yet, which boys I brought home. I’ll never hear the end of it, if she does. But I’m done backing down when my sister wants something—and I refuse to share them with her. I might not know what I want, but I do know it’s not that.

  Without letting myself think, I creep out of my room, up the stairs, and slip the spare key to my room under the boys’ door.

  Then I retreat to my room and curl up in the middle of the too big bed, alone.

  It takes a long time to fall asleep.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Asher

  The morning comes early here—sounds from people on the street trickling in, the putter of housekeeping in the hall.

  Luca is sleeping on his side of the bed, sprawled on his stomach, his arms stretched above his head.

  It doesn’t surprise me, the story he shared last night. It should, because he’s so confident and sure of himself now—but that kind of confidence is something you earn, and he did. He earned it by going through hell.

  I lean over and brush a kiss over his forehead. “I’m going for a run.”

  He mumbles, “Fucking show off.”

  I laugh and slip from the bed. In the bathroom, I change quickly and tug on my shoes. Luca is already snoring again when I let the hotel door shut softly behind me.

  There was a park, across the street, and I saw runners jogging on what looks like a loop around the university.

  So I might get lost, but I have some idea of what I’m doing—and it’s a tiny town. How long could I possibly be lost for?

  She’s in the lobby, wearing a pair of running pants and a form fitting coat, her red hair pulled into a tight pony tail. She looks adorable and gorgeous, in a way that is utterly touchable. Not the way she looks at home, in her pencil skirts and business suits and perfectly styled hair. Here she is comfortable, and I love seeing her like that.