by Toni Aleo
I groan loudly. “Yes, but I know Shelli only wants us there so we can gush over her since Posey can’t be there.”
My mom grins. “You’ll see when you’re the bride.”
I make a face, wrinkling my nose. “According to Asher, I’ll be a bride three times.”
She laughs. “I love that boy. How is he? Is he happy to be home?”
I shrug. “I think so, but you know his sisters drive him crazy.”
“Yeah, but he needs to be home. I know Fallon and Lucas are happy he’s back,” she says, speaking of his parents. “It’s hard when your baby isn’t home.”
“Yeah, I guess. I think he’s going to try to get Aiden’s condo, which will probably be good. Asher needs out. He does better alone. Then he has that interview with Elli and Shelli on Friday. We all know she’ll hire him.”
“Yes, of course. I think Elli still feels bad about not re-signing Lucas, which ultimately led him to retire.”
“I forgot about that,” I say with wide eyes. “Yeah, Asher could suck at jumbotron maintenance, and she’d still hire him.”
Mom laughs. “Exactly.”
“But we all know he is amazing and will do awesome things for the Assassins organization.”
“Yes, we do know this. You more so than anyone,” she says in a teasing tone. “Have you told him you love him yet?”
I almost choke on my sandwich as I whip my head around to make sure neither my dad nor Journey are near. “Mom!” I shriek, and she laughs like it’s hysterical that she almost gave me a heart attack.
I think I was drunk when I admitted my feelings for Asher.
It was when he left to go to college in California. I was so sad and got wine drunk with her. She made a joke that maybe I should have gone with him, and then I word-vomited all over her. I professed my love for him that night, and she is just waiting for me to come clean to him. She loves Asher, thinks he is the best dude ever. And since I have a tendency to date idiots, she wants me with someone good. Asher’s that guy, but I know he has no interest in me whatsoever. We’re just friends. I’ve been friend-zoned like no other, or I friend-zoned him. I’m not sure, but it’s understood he doesn’t like me like that.
“I’m just asking. I mean, he gets home, and the first thing he does is hang with you? I feel in my heart, he loves you too.”
I shake my head. “He doesn’t, Mom. I promise he doesn’t. Not that way. We’re basically siblings.” I lean forward on my elbows. “For example, he asked why people assume we’re together, and I spat out some of the facts I used for that paper I did. And he was like, well, I guess we’ll find each other attractive after we’re divorced nine times or whatever, and he never said he was ever attracted to me.”
Her brow perks. “What if he is hiding his feelings?”
I shake my head. “Mom, how he found out Jasmine was a lesbian was because she wanted to bring me in bed with them. He lost his shit and said he wouldn’t sleep with me. Pretty sure that means he isn’t attracted to me.”
A look of pure distress covers her face. “I’d rather not know that kind of stuff.”
I snort. “Then keep your thoughts to yourself.”
She doesn’t say anything for a moment, and I can see the wheels turning in her head. I know she loves Asher. But a part of me feels she only wants me to be with him because then I wouldn’t get with such idiots who break my heart or try to make me move away. She knows I’d be taken care of, and of course, I want that too. But for that to happen, Asher would have to show some kind of interest, and I don’t even know if I’d go for it then.
We have a great relationship. Do I really want to throw sex and jealousy in the mix? Well, there is already jealousy. I really hope Angie doesn’t approach him. I don’t even know why I told him about her. I’m so fucked up in the head.
“Plus, I’m having dinner with Taco this week. That will probably start up again.”
Her eyes widen, and I almost wish I’d told her I was pregnant instead. Why did I tell her about that? Am I that unwilling to discuss the fact that the guy I’ve loved for most of my adult life doesn’t want anything to do with me?
I think I am.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
I blink. “Nothing?” She gives me a dark look, and I crumble like a cookie. “I’m having dinner with Taco tomorrow.”
“Allison, please tell me you’re lying,” she says, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just lie to me if you have to.”
“Yup, I’m lying.”
I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. She drops her hand and glares at me. “I am flabbergasted that you want to see that person. He wanted nothing more than to ruin your life. You do realize this, right?”
I let my shoulders fall, chewing a bite of sandwich as I try to think of what to say. I probably should have kept talking about Asher. “Mom, it’s not that simple. I do care for him.”
“No, no, you do not. You want to try to get rid of your feelings for Asher. It’s so bad you choose dudes who don’t know their asses from their mouths, and they’re jackasses!”
I blink. “That’s very graphic, Mom.”
She shoots me a contemptuous look. “Allison, sweetheart, he doesn’t love you. He just wants to keep getting in your pants.”
I press my lips together. “And what’s wrong with that? It’s nice to be wanted.”
She looks so sad for me, and I feel pathetic. “You’re better than that, sweetheart. Even when I slept around, at least I did it with decent guys.”
We have a very open relationship. I know I can talk to her about anything, and I know her past. I set her with a look. “How can you be sure of that, though? You sometimes didn’t even get to know them.”
She shrugs. “Well, that could be true, but I can promise you they had jobs and didn’t go by stupid nicknames.”
I sigh. “I don’t know, Mom. He’s familiar.”
“So is Asher.”
I roll my eyes. “We’ve discussed that, and there is no point. He isn’t attracted to me.”
She holds my gaze, her blue eyes searching mine. “Please don’t get back with Taco. Life is so good for you right now. Plus, I’m sure Asher has had words with you about this.”
I press my lips together. “Of course, Asher doesn’t want me back with him, but it’s for obvious reasons, because he doesn’t treat me right.”
“Yes, so please listen to us. I get a guy being good in bed, but sometimes their dick isn’t good enough when they are a dick.”
“Man, I love walking in on y’all’s conversations,” my dad says, and my face burns. “And you better not be talking about me,” he says to my mom jokingly, kissing her temple.
I gag a bit. “Ew.”
“Oh yes. Hearing about us is gross, but for me to hear what I did is fine and dandy,” he says, kissing my temple next. “How were your classes this morning?”
“Good. I’m ready for graduation.”
“Aren’t we all?” he says with a grin, and I grin back. My dad has aged like a fine wine. Growing up, everyone thought my dad was such a hottie. He is so exotic with his dark hair and darker eyes and thick Russian-accented English. He has hardly any wrinkles and doesn’t seem to have aged at all in my eyes. The same with my mom. They’re both halves of a stunning couple, one I’ve had the pleasure of watching never give up on each other or our family. It was spotty for all of us when my dad was dealing with his addiction and when my mom lost my baby brother, but I feel we’re stronger for having gone through it.
Dad exhales and lays down his wallet and keys. “I gotta go pack. I catch a plane early tomorrow. I don’t want to do it after the game later.” He starts out of the room, but before he leaves, he looks back at us. “Stop talking about dicks, huh?”
We both snicker as he walks away, and my mom leans on her forearms, her eyes meeting mine. “Listen to me, sweetheart. Please.”
I chew on my lip, looking down at my sandwich. I pick at the crust. Let’s be honest, I don
’t even like Taco anymore. I just wanted to feel something again. It’s hard being around Asher when we’re both single. Yes, it’s only been a day, but it’s already so overwhelming. Being close makes me want to do dirty things to him, and I know he’d reject me. That would probably be the worst thing ever.
“Yeah, Mom. I’ll cancel.”
She beams. “That’s my baby,” she says, squeezing my hand.
As I devour the rest of my sandwich, she watches me happily. We may fight, but I know she’d die for me. I love my mom. She squeezes my wrist, and I look up as she says, “Also, I think Asher didn’t want to sleep with you and her, because if he did, he’d give in to his feelings for you and break her heart.” She shrugs, her eyes playful. “Now that she’s not in the picture, nothing can hold either of you back.”
She takes my empty plate, leaving me speechless. While I have wondered if that could be the case—not that I would have joined them in bed, or maybe I would have for Asher, but Jasmine would have been mighty bored—I can’t let myself think that way.
It only chips away at my heart for something that will never be.
Chapter Five
Asher
I don’t know how my mom does it.
Really. She needs an award for her patience.
She moves through the kitchen, making Emery’s lunch as she talks so animatedly and with nonstop grins. It makes me happy to know I’m the reason she’s smiling, but seriously, how does she keep talking when it’s World War III down the hall?
“When is your interview?”
When something crashes, I widen my eyes as I look at her. She’s just waiting for my answer, no concern for the house or her daughters. “Friday. I have Ally’s game tonight.”
She nods as Stella screams, “That is my sweater!”
Emery doesn’t agree. “No. I bought it for me, not you!”
“You did! But then we traded so you could have those Mickey Mouse pants you loved so much.”
“We did not! You tried, and I didn’t want to!”
“You’re such a liar!”
I blink as I look at my mom when she asks, “What time is Ally’s game?”
“Six.”
“Nice, maybe I’ll swing by.”
“She’d love that.”
Mom smiles as she cleans up her mess. From the back, Emery yells, “Take it off! I need to wear it!”
“No, you only wanna wear it because I have it on!” Another crash. “You’re such a bitch!”
Finally, my mom speaks up. “Language, Stella!”
“Sorry,” she calls from down the hall. “But she is one.”
Mom spoons out some scrambled eggs and then sets the plate in front of me. She smiles widely at me. “It’s so great to have you home.”
Another crash. I jerk my thumb behind me. “Because I distract you from that?”
She scoffs. “Oh, baby, that’s mild. Those two aren’t going to kill each other. I don’t know why Stella doesn’t just go live in the dorms.”
I nod. “I agree.”
“She’s a momma’s girl. Doesn’t want to leave me like you and your brother did,” she teases, and I laugh as I shovel some eggs into my mouth.
“Hey, I’m back, aren’t I?”
She arches a brow. “Oh, I know you’ve got one foot out that front door.”
I shrug. “Maybe,” I say with a chuckle, and I don’t feel the least bit guilty. “Not because of you, I love you, but all because of them.”
Just then, Emery comes into the kitchen. Her hair looks like a bird’s nest, and she’s glaring. “Stella pulled my braid headband out of my hair and called me a dumb bitch.”
Mom lets out a long huff. “What did you do?”
Emery shrugs. “Pulled my sweater off her.”
“And messed up my hair!” Stella calls from the other room.
“Can you kick her out? When is it my time to shine?”
I snort. “Em, when don’t you shine?” I ask, and she looks at me, displeasure swimming in her light green eyes.
“Why are you even here? I feel like when people turn eighteen, they gotta go and can’t come back.”
Mom purses her lips. “Emery, you know that will apply to you.”
She shakes her head. “No, I can live here forever because I’m your favorite.”
“Only because if she says you’re not, you’ll kill her in her sleep,” Stella says, coming into the kitchen. “Can’t we send her to a loony bin?”
Emery glares as my mom rolls her eyes. “Lord, you two. Can’t you just get along?”
“Nope,” they say at the same time, in the same way.
With that defiant little tip of their chins and their arms across their chests. It’s insane to me how they can fight like cats and dogs, but be so fiercely protective of each other. I have seen Stella fight a girl because she called Emery fat. Emery isn’t skinny, but she isn’t fat either. Though, she sure as hell doesn’t skip a meal. Since my mom is trying to make the house go sugar-free, Emery uses her allowance to buy the vending machine out of snacks at school. She’s crazy, but she’s smart. When Stella decided she was going to take something from Em’s stash, Emery bit her. I’m not exactly sure how my mom had complete basket cases after two perfect sons, but I’m pretty sure it’s because they’re the girls, the babies, and rotten to the core. I won’t say that out loud, though. It’d be like throwing a slab of meat to a hungry pack of lionesses.
And I’d be the meat.
“Man, it’s great to be home.”
Stella shoots me a dirty look. “Aren’t you supposed to be finding a closet lesbian to fall in love with?”
I glare. “Stella, dude, you’re like nineteen. Grow up and stop being a dramatic ass.”
Before Stella can even utter a word, Emery yells, “Don’t talk to her like that!” I gawk at her as she continues, “Don’t worry about how old she is. Go convince your best friend to actually like you ’cause she’s probably the only person who can handle your dorky loser self.”
“I can’t win.”
Mom nods. “Nope. They’re like a small gang that hates each other but will kill for each other. It’s really fascinating.”
That’s one word for it.
The girls look at each other and shrug, leaving me flabbergasted. Don’t get me wrong. I love Aiden. Would die for the dude, but we don’t fight like this. We actually get along really well. Maybe it’s the age gap, or maybe it’s because we don’t have ADHD; I don’t know. I’m sure Ally would have some study she’s done that can explain why. I think it may be because my dad spoiled them rotten. He was tough on us boys. Didn’t want us making the same mistakes he did.
“It’s silent. Did Emery finally kill Stella?” I look up to find my dad coming into the kitchen. He sees the girls and grins. “Oh, thank goodness, you two are still breathing.”
He goes over to them, kissing each of their heads before wrapping his arms around my mom and kissing her jaw. The girls both audibly gag before leaving the kitchen, and I go back to eating my eggs, ignoring the acts of love. They’ve been married a long time, and they can’t ever keep their hands off each other. I’ve always heard from other people you’re supposed to get bored with your wife, but they haven’t met my parents. They’re totally in love and don’t care who sees it. I was like that with Jasmine. Always touching her, kissing on her, and she ate it up.
She also enjoyed it from her girlfriend.
When my dad slaps me hard on the back, I jump as I bring my gaze to his. While I look like my mom, I have my dad’s angular features and eyes. All of us but Emery have dad’s eyes. Hers are a lighter green, really pretty, but surely that won’t distract some dude from the crazy.
It will—at first. I can already see this playing out. Dude will be mesmerized, and bam! she’ll slash his tires when he doesn’t get her a latte.
“I’m glad you beefed up. I was worried,” Dad teases, and I snort.
“Thanks.”
He grins, hugging my neck. I l
ean into him. “It’s good to have you home.”
“With the way the girls are acting, he’ll be out faster than Aiden was,” Mom says, cleaning off the counter. “Maybe Stella should go live in the dorms. Maybe Emery does need a break from her.”
“No, they’re fine. They’re sisters. Sisters fight.”
Mom doesn’t agree. “I never physically fought my sister.”
“Because Audrey wouldn’t hurt a fly. Plus, you’re older. She was terrified of you.”
“Ooh, speaking of Audrey, when is she making my carrot cake cupcakes?”
Mom glances over her shoulder at me. “You’ll have to go by and see her for that to happen.”
I nod. “I will as long as she doesn’t pinch my cheek and call me Slim Jim.”
Dad and Mom laugh quietly, but I’m not amused. I love Aunt Audrey, she’s cool, but she loves embarrassing the shit out of me. When I brought Jasmine home to meet everyone, Audrey deliberately told her I pissed the bed until I was twelve. It isn’t my fault I had a bladder issue and Emery loved to pick on me, so she’d put my hand in water! Come to think of it, Emery’s been an asshole since birth. Jasmine didn’t seem to find my pissing misfortune funny, and I was mortified. I still haven’t forgiven Aunt Audrey—or Emery, for that matter—but for carrot cake cupcakes from Audrey’s cupcakery, I just might.
“She will,” Dad and Mom say together, and then they share a look. A look that would make anyone want to gouge their eyes out.
I need out of this house.
Dad leans on the counter, snacking on the strawberries Mom cut up. I grab one for myself as he asks, “You ready for the interview?”
I nod and, around my chewing, say, “Yeah.”
“Good, don’t be nervous. You’ll get it.”
“I want to get it because I’m awesome.”
“You will. I don’t know any kids who graduated early and interned for three arenas at the same time.”
Mom beamed. “We have the gas statements as proof.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, thanks for that.”
“Anytime. We believe in you, bud,” Dad says with a wink, and I smile. My dad wasn’t really into school. He is dyslexic, so he focused all his energy on hockey since he hid his issues. He always thought he wasn’t good enough, and because of that, he really pumps us up. There isn’t a moment from my childhood that I don’t remember my dad telling us we could do and be whatever we wanted. Nothing could hold us back. When Emery was diagnosed with dyslexia, he made sure to get her the best therapist money could buy. She still struggles, but she’s so confident, no one knows.