Bad Habit

by Charleigh Rose

  Even when my favorite barista, Matt, tried to make small talk, I was still unable to focus on anything but the sight of naked Asher pleasuring himself with my conditioner. And the way he looked at me, completely unaffected and unapologetic.

  Tossing my empty cup, I make my way toward the parking lot, skidding to a stop when someone blocks my path, only to find Jackson smiling down on me.

  “Hey, what’s up? I didn’t get to say goodbye to you last night, and I tried to call, but your phone went straight to voicemail.”

  Oh my God. I forgot about Jackson. And I don’t mean about last night… I mean, I literally forgot he existed. Ash’s been back in my life for less than twenty-four hours, and, like a solar eclipse, he’s already casting his shadow upon everything and everyone else. It’s exciting at first. You feel like you’re a part of something that doesn’t happen every day. And maybe you’re tempted to stay in the shadows. But then you realize that you need the sun. You can’t survive in darkness alone.

  “Briar?” Jackson’s concerned hazel eyes assess me.

  “Huh? Oh, yeah, my phone died. Sorry.”

  “It’s cool.”

  I give him a polite smile and move to step around him, but he stops me with a hand on my shoulder.

  “Hey, so wait,” he says, dropping his hand and stuffing both into the pockets of his jeans. “Let’s go out. Like, just the two of us.”

  “You mean, like a date?” I ask dumbly. No, Einstein, he wants to take you to Bible study. Of course, he means a date.

  “Yeah, like a date,” he says with a cocky smile, probably mistaking my preoccupation with Asher for shyness.

  My gut instinct is to say no. But then, I realize that would be falling into old patterns and letting Asher influence every decision I make. Not this time. And I do like Jackson. I was even semi-interested before Ash came back. There’s no reason I shouldn’t give him a chance. He’s fun and sweet and hot as hell. What’s not to like? Plus, Asher has made it clear that there will never be anything between us. Why shouldn’t I move on?

  “Okay.” I shrug.

  “Okay?” he asks, thrown off by my short response.

  “Okay,” I say, firmer this time, and go to leave again. My stomach is growling, and I need to call Natalia.

  “When?” he shouts after me.

  “Whenever!”

  “I’ll pick you up tonight then. Six o’clock.”

  Before I can open my mouth to object, or at least let him know that I’d drive separately and meet him somewhere, he gives me one of his signature smirks and saunters off.

  I guess I have a date.

  I pull into my driveway after a long day of avoiding home. Nat was working for her mom at her boutique, Lush, today, so I hung out there for a while. We tried to talk, but it was an abnormally busy day, so I walked around the other shops to kill some time.

  My stomach does a flip when I see that Asher’s big, black truck is still in the driveway. There’s a ladder on top of it, leading me to believe it’s a work truck, but it’s nice. Really nice. He must be doing well for himself.

  I’m immediately aware of his presence before I see him. I give a quick wave to my brother—who’s sitting with Asher on the couch, drinking a beer—and drop my keys onto the counter. I’m starving, so I walk straight to the freezer to grab my favorite pizza.

  I prop a hand on my hip and whirl around to find the two laughing like idiots.

  “I told you she’d notice, man,” Dash says, hiding his smile behind his beer bottle.

  “Sorry,” Asher deadpans in a way that says I’m not even a little sorry. His dark hair is mussed up in that perfectly disheveled way only he can pull off, and his full lips are coated in pizza grease. “I was hungry, and your pizza was the only thing that sounded good.”

  He narrows his eyes at me, challenging me somehow, and licks his lips.

  God, why does everything he says sound suggestive to me?

  “It’s fine.” I shrug, feigning ambivalence. “I have a date tonight, so I probably shouldn’t eat so close to dinnertime, anyway.” I swing open the stainless steel fridge door, grab a yogurt instead, and walk off without daring to look for his reaction, or lack thereof.

  I don’t know why I said that. Just like in the bathroom this morning, I guess I just wanted him to know that I’m not still pining after him. That life moved on without him, and I’m all grown up now.

  After hiding out in my room for a couple of hours and calling Nat to fill her in on everything, I finally decide to get ready for my “date”. I have no idea where Jackson might be taking me, so I opt for a black jersey dress. It has thin straps and dips low in the back, but it’s still casual enough to wear with sneakers. I throw on a pair of black Vans and a choker that my mom hates because she insists that it looks like something out of a fifty-cent machine. I leave my hair down, and it falls in thick waves to my waist.

  Checking my phone, I see a missed text from Jackson.

  Pulling up to your house.

  I check the time stamp on the text and realize that it was sent over five minutes ago. I bounce down the steps and freeze when I see Jackson at my opened door with Dash blocking his entrance with a wide stance and crossed arms. I hear a chuckle, and my eyes snap over to Asher who is still sitting at the couch, leaned back, with his long legs stretched out, looking more than a little amused.

  “You can stop now, Dashiell,” I say, rolling my eyes and coming to a stop in front of them. Asher’s laugh morphs into a choking sound, and all three of us turn to look at him with furrowed brows.

  “Went down the wrong pipe,” he coughs, gesturing to his throat.

  “Karma.” I laugh.

  “Desperate much?” he asks, pointing his beer bottle in my direction.

  “What?” I snap.

  “Your dress. It’s so short that I can practically see your asshole,” Asher says, crude as always.

  “Well, then, it should make it easier for you to kiss it.”

  “Whatever you say, Sugar Plum,” he taunts, referring to my conditioner.

  “We’re leaving,” I bite out, as heat crawls up my neck. I grab Jackson’s arm and shut the door with more force than necessary before giving him an apologetic smile. He waves me off, tells me I look pretty, and leads me to his sleek charcoal gray Mercedes. And then we’re gone.

  Chapter 3

  Asher

  I flip my phone over on top of my thigh, checking the clock for what feels like the fiftieth time in the past three minutes. Eleven twenty-eight. Briar’s been gone for over five hours. What the fuck kind of dinner takes five hours? When she first mentioned her plans, I almost laughed. She wanted a reaction, so of course, I didn’t give her one. Her attempt at making me jealous was comical.

  But then the douchebag from last night showed up. I thought after Dash’s warning, she’d stay away from him. He’s a couple of years younger than us, but his older brother was in our grade. He was on the swim team, and he had this list. It was more of a points system. Every girl was rated from one to one hundred. The harder to get with, the bigger the score. I never took part, never felt the need to brag when I got my dick wet. But the rumor is that Jackson is carrying on big brother’s tradition and bringing it back. And now, he’s out with Briar.

  What I figured would take two hours tops turned into three, then four, then five. I couldn’t exactly voice my concerns. I’d already fucked up earlier by commenting on her choice of clothing, or lack thereof.

  When I saw her come down those stairs, looking good enough to eat, I choked on my fucking beer. Between that, my sudden shitty mood, and my brand-new phone-checking compulsion, Dash had been eyeing me suspiciously all damn night. What was I supposed to say? Sorry, man. Your baby sister begged me to fuck her in your bed, then I left her. Oh yeah, and then she ruined my fucking life.

  Eventually, I told Dash I was going to sleep because I needed to look for work in the morning. It’s not entirely untrue. I do need to do that, if I plan to stay in town. But the re
al reason was that I needed time to dissect my thoughts.

  I’ve only been back for one day, and already, things are starting to blur. The hatred was starting to wane. With her wide, innocent eyes and angelic appearance, it’s hard to imagine that she’s capable of being vindictive. I need to stay away from her. I look down to her fluffy, pale pink comforter and ball it in my fist, messing up her perfectly made bed.

  Tomorrow. Starting tomorrow, I’ll stay away from her.

  The quiet snick of the front door closing alerts me to her arrival. About fucking time. I flatten myself against the wall behind her door right before she opens it then gently nudges it shut with the back of her foot. She kicks off her shoes and starts to pull her dress up to take it off. Standing with her back to me in front of the moonlit window, I can make out her brand-new curves. Her tight, round ass. The dimples on the small of her back. Her dress is just past her hips when I speak.

  “Have fun tonight?”

  Briar yelps and drops her dress back in place before spinning around.

  “I was until I had some perv spy on me for the second time in as many days.”

  “Oh, I’m the pervert?” I taunt, moving closer. She wants to back away, but she doesn’t. She stands her ground, and it only spurs me on. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe it was you who watched me jack off this morning.”

  I’m almost sad the lights aren’t on to see her inevitable blush. I’m standing over her tiny form, and she has to crane her neck to look up at me.

  “Momentary lapse in sanity.” She shrugs. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

  Those words kick around in my head for a second before I practically tackle her onto her bed. She lands on her back, mouth parted in shock, with her legs spread and her dress ridden up. My hips fill the spot between her thighs, and I pin her hands to the bed.

  Fuck, this was a bad idea. She smells good—sweet, like her conditioner—and she feels even better. I have to fight the urge to grind into her.

  “Nothing you haven’t seen before, huh?”

  “No,” she says between clenched teeth.

  “Who was it?” I demand. “Was it the little golden boy from tonight?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Tell me, Briar,” I whisper, getting closer to her ear. “Did he make you come from a kiss like I did? Does he know what you sound like as you do? Because I can still hear you. I can still see you.”

  If her sharp intake of breath didn’t let me know she was affected, the way she rocked into my jean-covered cock does. I stay stock-still, still braced above her with my hands around her wrists.

  “Does he know that I was the first one to make this little body come before you even knew how to do it yourself?” I bring her wrists closer together so I can grip them both with one hand, and I trail my index finger from her sternum all the way down to her underwear.

  A moan slips free, and her hips chase the friction once more.

  “No,” she whispers.

  “No, what?”

  “No to all of it.”

  Briar manages to wiggle a hand free, and she uses it to pull me to her, chest to chest. I can feel her perky little tits against me, and I want so fucking badly to do what we couldn’t do three years ago. To feel her from the inside. But then I remember what else happened the last night we were together like this. And everything that unfolded afterward.

  “Good,” I say simply, lifting myself off her before I do something I’ll regret…like fuck the enemy.

  Briar scrambles to clamp her legs shut and pull her dress back down her thighs with an incredulous look plastered to that pretty face.

  “Keep it that way.” I turn to leave, now that I have the upper hand, but then that smart mouth of hers strikes again.

  “Fuck you, Asher,” she spits, voice full of venom.

  I grip the doorknob so hard I almost expect it to shatter in my hand.

  “Fuck me?” I laugh bitterly. “You already fucked me, baby girl. And I never even saw it coming.”

  Briar

  “I’m a zombie. It’s official,” I complain to Nat, who’s gotten the tips of her toes perched on the edge of the pool deck as she paints them a cherry red, while I float on an oversized raft.

  Nat snorts. “Maybe you should stop diddling your skittle to thoughts of Asher all night.”

  I kick my foot out to splash her, and she cusses when she flinches away and paints her skin on accident.

  If she only knew how right she was. Except it’s not just thoughts of Asher keeping me up; it’s Asher himself. I haven’t seen him once today. I tossed and turned all night long, playing his words back in my head until it was time to wake up for school. “You already fucked me, baby girl.” I was too preoccupied with the fact that Ash had just been between my legs to make sense of the words at first, but now, it’s all I can think about. What did that even mean? He’s the one who left. I’m the one who was wrecked.

  When I finally accepted the fact that sleep wasn’t happening, I walked around on eggshells while getting ready, afraid to run into Asher or Dash. Asher, for obvious reasons. Dash, because he can read me better than anyone else in this world, and I him. But, neither seemed to be awake.

  The past few days must have caught up with me, because all the coffee in the world couldn’t help me this morning, and it can’t help me now. As soon as Nat got here, I changed into my suit and threw my hair into a high ponytail. That was a couple of hours ago, and now the sun is starting to set.

  “So, are you going to tell me how your date with Jackson went?” Nat asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

  “Meh.” I shrug, shifting my legs that stick to the plastic raft.

  “Meh?” She stops painting her toes and props her chin on her knee to look over at me. “That good, huh?”

  “No, it wasn’t bad. It was good. He was nice.”

  “Whoa, watch out. Good and nice? You better put a ring on it with those adjectives.”

  I roll my eyes. “Shut up. It was actually really fun.” Jackson took me to this fondue restaurant. There was chocolate involved, so I can’t complain. Afterward, he took me to see the Thor movie, which I also can’t complain about. Because Thor. I had a better time than I thought I would, to be honest. He was witty and charming and polite.

  “Are you going to see him again?” Nat asks skeptically.

  “I’m not sure. If he asks.” Another shrug.

  “And you don’t think the return of he who shall not be named has anything at all to do with your indifference?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say, inspecting my nail beds to avoid eye contact.

  “Lying liar who lies.”

  We both laugh, but we’re interrupted when Asher and Adrian, my brother’s other best friend, come barreling out the patio door.

  “Well, well, speak of the devil,” Nat drawls out in the worst fake Southern accent I’ve ever heard in my life.

  “Where’s my brother?” I ask, cutting a warning glare in Nat’s direction to keep her mouth shut.

  “Inside making food. Why? You need someone to rub you down with some sunblock?” Adrian asks, taking a step in my direction, but Asher blocks him with a stiff arm across the chest.

  “What, bro?” he asks, feigning innocence. Returning his attention toward me, he adds, “I’m just looking out for the baby sister. We don’t want that pretty porcelain skin to burn, do we?”

  “I’m good.” I laugh, shaking my head.

  Adrian makes a lot of noise, but he’s generally harmless. Growing up, it was always my brother, Asher, and Adrian. The three drunken amigos who basically owned the school and everyone in it. Dash and Adrian are the charmers—the rich boys who fucked shit up with a smile on their faces—while Asher ruled with a quiet authority. They may not be in high school anymore, but they still run this town.

  Adrian is Mexican-American, or as he likes to call himself, a sexy Mexi. He’s tall and gorgeous, with golden eyes and dimples for
days. Everyone loves him. It’s impossible not to.

  “But really.” Adrian lowers his voice, smacking Ash’s hand away from his chest. “I needed to talk to you guys about Saturday.”

  Saturday is Dash’s birthday, and every year on the day before, we usually have dinner with our parents at some fancy restaurant in which they end up arguing before dessert. Then Dash and I bail and binge-watch movies all night, with every type of junk food imaginable. His actual birthday, though, belongs to friends. This year, my parents can’t make it, with my dad being too busy with the merger. They offered to fly us out, but Dash insisted on staying, using work as an excuse, when really, he just doesn’t want to go. Thank God, because neither do I.

  “What’s up?” I slide my peach-colored, oversized sunglasses onto the top of my head.

  “We’re taking the pontoon and the Jet Skis out to the lake. It’s nothing big, just a few of us hanging out, but it’s a surprise. You girls in?”

  “I’m out,” Nat says dejectedly.

  “What, why?” I ask, using my arm to paddle myself closer to the steps. She loves going out on the lake, and we haven’t been in a long time.

  “Uh, work,” she says, like the answer should have been obvious.

  She acts like work is a burden sometimes, but, I think she secretly loves it. She spends the majority of her time there, and when she’s not there, she’s talking about it, dreaming up ways to improve it, or hunting for new trends.

  “Boo,” I pout, stepping out of the pool. My eyes drift to Asher, who’s still silent, standing with his arms crossed, as I grab my towel off the lounge chair.

  He makes a show out of looking me up and down from my head to my toes before turning and prowling back inside.

  Adrian just shrugs. “He probably needs food. You know he gets cranky when he’s hungry.”

  Yeah, and also when he’s awake, or, you know, breathing.

  “See you in a couple of days?” he asks, one hand on the sliding door.

  Before I can answer, Ash’s arm darts out and jerks him back into the house by his T-shirt, Adrian’s laughter trailing behind them.