Love Me Like You Won't Let Go

by Toppen, Melissa

  “Sure seems like it.”

  “It’s just different, I guess. You and me versus you and him.” He pauses. “But no, to answer you’re earlier question, I wouldn’t be happy. I’d probably be furious if I found out you were hanging out with any man, especially your ex.”

  “Even if that man was just a friend?” I ask, genuinely curious.

  “Even if that man was just a friend.” His eyes slide to mine for a brief moment before going back to the road.

  “You’re not really helping your case here.”

  “Perhaps not.” He grins. “But I can’t lie to you either.”

  “So you think he’s going to be pissed is what you’re saying.” I huff.

  “I’m not saying anything. I don’t know your relationship or him like you do. I have no idea how he will or will not feel about us spending time together. What I do know is that the last thing I want to do is spend our day talking about him.” He gives me a sideways glance.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” I straighten, turning my gaze back out the window.

  “Hey.” I jump when I feel Asher’s hand close around mine. Oddly enough I make no attempt to push it away. He waits until I turn back toward him before continuing, “I wasn’t trying to be an asshole. I know we’re trying this whole friend thing out, but there are pieces of your life I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about yet.”

  “Fair enough.” I nod, having not really considered how talking about Tyler might make Asher feel.

  I can’t imagine, if the roles were reversed, how hard it would be for me to hear him talk about another woman, let alone one he was planning to marry in just a few days’ time.

  “So, I was cleaning out the car the other day. You would not believe some of the stuff I found.”

  “Like what?”

  “Check this out.” He releases my hand and I immediately miss the warmth of his touch.

  Rifling through the center console, he pulls out a cassette tape moments later, waving it in his hand.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “A cassette tape.”

  “No, I know what it is.” I shake my head.

  “It’s my dad’s old mix tape. You remember? The one he used to always play whenever we’d go anywhere with him.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.” His smile widens as he pops the cassette into the old tape deck, the sound of Alan Jackson’s Summer Time Blues filtering around us seconds later.

  “Oh my god.” I laugh, shaking my head.

  “You remember this one?”

  “Remember it? How could I forget?” I bust out the first line of the song without missing a single word even though it’s been years since I’ve heard it.

  Asher chuckles as he reaches and turns the music up. We sing along to every word, laughing and leaning into each other like we always used to do when we were kids.

  When the song switches to George Strait’s Check Yes or No, we sing even louder. Asher’s gaze bounces back and forth between me and the road the entire time, a smile stretched so far across his face it makes my chest want to burst open.

  It’s been so long, too long, yet I feel like a single day hasn’t passed.

  We spend the next hour singing along to every single song on his dad’s mix tape. Neither one of us have ever been huge country music fans, but because of his dad we know every song that comes on like the backs of our hands.

  And for a while I forget.

  I forget about the last six years. I forget about all the hurt and anger. I let myself live in the moment with Asher, the way I used to. Without even having to think about it.

  ——

  “Did you put sunscreen on?” I push my sunglasses down my nose to get a better look at Asher’s shoulders as he slides down onto the towel next to me and stretches out.

  “I think so.” He turns his face toward me but his gaze goes to his shoulder.

  “I don’t remember seeing you put it on.” I laugh, reaching over to press my finger against his skin. I let go and the white imprint that my finger leaves behind instantly disappears and his flesh turns bright red again. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t.” I giggle, pressing up on my elbows to get a better look at him.

  “Oh well. Won’t be the first sunburn I’ve had.” He shrugs.

  “You’re ridiculous,” I tell him, sitting the rest of the way up. “We’ve only been here an hour and you’re already the color of a lobster.” I reach for my beach bag, dropping it in my lap before rifling through it for my sunscreen. “Come here,” I say, pulling the aerosol can out moments later.

  “Seriously?” He looks at me funny.

  “Yes, seriously,” I scold.

  “The Blakely I remember never bothered with things like sunscreen,” he tells me, pushing up into a sitting position.

  “The Blakely you remember was young and stupid and didn’t consider things like, I don’t know, skin cancer.” I shift, climbing onto my knees before inching in behind him. “This is probably going to be cold,” I warn him.

  He jumps slightly when the cool mist of the sunscreen hits his red skin. I make sure to apply a liberal coat over his shoulders, back, and down his arms before moving back onto my towel.

  “Here. Spray your front.” I extend the can to him.

  “But it’s so much better when you do it,” he teases.

  “Nice try, but I won’t do it any better than you can do yourself.” I roll my eyes at him when he flops down onto his back and stares up at me, his arms spread out wide. It’s his way of saying either you do it or it won’t get done. “Fine,” I huff, repositioning next to him.

  I spray a thin layer across his chest, trying not to stare too hard as I move downward. Without thinking, I reach out and brush some sand from his rippled stomach, my fingers lingering on his skin way longer than I intend for them to.

  I look up, meeting Asher’s gaze through the dark lenses of his sunglasses. In that moment, I swear he can see into my soul. Like he knows exactly what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling, and the thought is more than a little unnerving.

  “Sorry. You had sand on you.” I try to play it off, giving his stomach a quick spray before dropping the can back into my bag and resettling on my towel.

  This time, I roll onto my stomach so I can turn my face away from Asher. Only seconds pass before I feel a mist rain across my back.

  “What the?” I jerk my head up to catch Asher hovering next to me, the can of sunscreen in his hand.

  “Sorry. Did you not want me to spray you?” He cocks his head to the side, the smile on his lips telling me he knows exactly what he’s doing.

  “I already sprayed myself.”

  “Like an hour ago. Aren’t you supposed to reapply?” He waits for me to argue, but instead I lay my head back down as he continues to spray my back without another word.

  He shifts next to me seconds before I feel the sunscreen trickle across the backs of my legs. My entire body tenses from the sensation. Not because Asher touches me, he’s very careful not to, but because I can feel his eyes as they slide across each inch of my skin as he sprays.

  By the time he reaches my calves, I’m so worked up I have to fight the urge to squirm. Somehow I manage to remain eerily still until he finishes, at which point I quickly climb to my feet.

  “Where are you going?” He looks up at me, thrown by my sudden unexpected movement.

  “For a swim,” I tell him, turning toward the water, a few short feet from where our towels are laid out in the sand.

  “You’re supposed to wait a few minutes after applying sunscreen, aren’t you?” he calls after me as I make my way through the sand.

  “Says the man who until three minutes ago didn’t even put sunscreen on,” I holler over my shoulder before quickening my strides.

  I hear his laughter in the distance seconds before I dive head first into the murky water.

  Chapter Twenty

  Blakely

  “Today was fun,” I tell Asher
, adjusting my beach bag on my shoulder as we make the walk back toward the parking lot.

  “It was.” He agrees on a nod. “But I know something that will make it even better.”

  “Oh yeah?” I question, “What’s that?”

  “This,” he says, seconds before his keys come sailing toward me. I somehow manage to snatch them out of the air seconds before they fly past me.

  I pause at the edge of the paved lot, my gaze going to the keys in my hand.

  “Does this mean what I think it means?” I question excitedly, my eyes darting back up to Asher’s handsome face.

  “If I remember correctly, you’ve always wanted to drive her.” He smiles.

  “Are you sure?” I eye him warily.

  “If I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t have given you the keys,” he tells me, moving toward the passenger side of the car.

  “Asher.” I pause.

  “Don’t overthink it, B. Just get in the damn car,” he calls over his shoulder before yanking the passenger door open and sliding inside.

  I hesitate only a moment longer before my feet finally remember how to move. When I reach the car, I toss my beach bag into the back before settling into the driver’s seat, my hands sliding along the steering wheel.

  “Sometime today, Harris.”

  “Give me a second.” I huff. “I wanna enjoy this moment.” I can’t help the smile that slides across my lips as I snap my seatbelt in place.

  Never in a million years did I think I’d have the opportunity to drive this car. I’ve always wanted to, of course. But Asher’s father wouldn’t let him drive it, let alone me.

  Jamming the keys into the ignition, I smile wider when the engine rumbles to life, vibrating the seat beneath me.

  “Last chance to back out,” I tease, my gaze sliding to Asher’s.

  “Is that your way of telling me I should be worried?” He arches a brow, humor etched into his features.

  “Probably,” I admit with a laugh. “I have to warn you, my driving has not improved over the years,” I say, knowing how much he used to hate riding in a car with me.

  “Do your worst, B.” He grins.

  My hand is already wrapped around the gear shift when he says it. Shifting into reverse, I back out of the parking spot very carefully, then ease the car through the parking lot and up the hill that leads to the main road.

  Stopping at the stop sign, I proceed forward so slowly you’d think I was sitting on a sharp curb rather than on an open stretch of road where I can see clearly for several yards in both directions.

  “You drive like this the whole way and there’s no telling how long it will take us to get home,” Asher jokes from the passenger seat. “Not that I’m complaining.”

  “I’m just being careful. If I put even a ding on this car your dad will likely come back from the grave to kick my ass.” I slide my gaze to Asher for a brief moment.

  “You need to learn how to relax, B.” He shakes his head. “I don’t remember you being such a stick in the mud.”

  “I am not a stick in the mud,” I argue, offended but also mildly amused.

  “You’re driving thirty in a fifty-five and your hands are on the steering wheel like you’re afraid if you let go it might fall off. What would you call that?”

  “Being cautious.”

  “More like boring.” I know he’s purposely pushing my buttons.

  “I’ll show you boring,” I grind out before jamming the gas pedal with my foot. The tires squeal beneath the sudden influx of gas.

  “Shit,” Asher mutters under his breath as the car shoots down the road, passing into the sixty mile an hour range within seconds.

  Freedom sings through my veins. I feel every shift of the engine as it works to keep up with my relentless pace. I spent half my life wondering what this baby can do, and now I’m getting to find out first hand and it feels incredible.

  “This is amazing.” I beam, keeping my eyes focused on the flat stretch of road ahead.

  “She’s pretty powerful, huh?” He chuckles.

  I smile wider and press the gas pedal further down, the engine revving even louder.

  “Who’s the boring one now?” I half shout over the noise of the wind rushing in through the open windows.

  Asher laughs, his hand finding my thigh and squeezing firmly as I pass seventy miles an hour. His hand relaxes after a moment but he makes no attempt to move it and I make no attempt to make him. My senses are on complete overload.

  I keep my focus on the road, on the vibration of the car beneath me, and the wind whipping through my hair. Anything but the feel of Asher’s hand on my bare thigh. Anything but on the way his fingers seem to burn into my flesh. Anything but on the heat that’s creeping into places it shouldn’t.

  As if sensing my unease, Asher withdraws his hand after what feels like an eternity. I mask my disappointment with a smile before reaching out to turn the radio up.

  I don’t recognize the song, but it doesn’t stop me from swaying to the music all the same.

  Seconds turn into minutes. Minutes turn into hours and before I know it we’re nearly home.

  I can’t remember a time when driving felt so good. So liberating. Normally it feels more like a chore. Something you have to do to get you from one point to another. But this? This is something else entirely. I don’t care where we’re going or how long it will take to get there.

  I keep up the fast pace for most of the way. I may have been hesitant at first, but once I felt the power of the car everything else went out the window.

  I still can’t believe I’m driving this car. A car I’ve been a passenger in more times than I can count. A car where so many of my memories with Asher were made. A car that in some weird way feels like so much more than just a vehicle. It feels like a piece of me. A piece of us.

  My gaze slides toward Asher without really meaning to. He’s got his head resting against the headrest and his eyes focused out the window, locked on the trees that seem to close us in from the rest of the world. A look of complete contentment on his face.

  I’m drawn in by the sight, reminded of the long summer days we used to spend together. Days that felt easier than breathing at times. Days I never thought would end.

  I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t register the sudden movement in front of the car until it’s too late. By the time I see the deer, there’s no time to slow down. Without thinking, I jerk the steering wheel hard to the right. I manage to miss the large doe by mere inches. The tires on the right side slide from the road, grinding against the gravel and dirt, pulling the car hard to one side.

  I quickly try to correct, pulling to the left, but it only serves to spin the car the opposite way. Asher’s hand presses against my forearm seconds before the car goes airborne. The sound of glass and crunching metal the last thing I hear before everything around me goes dark.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Asher

  “She’s going to be okay, Asher.” I look up to see Leslie as she steps into the doorway.

  Her gaze slides to her daughter as she makes her way further into the hospital room.

  “She should have woken up by now.” My voice is hoarse.

  “She’ll wake when she’s ready. You heard what the doctor said.” She stops on the opposite side of Blakely’s bed from where I’m sitting. It’s the same spot I’ve occupied since I came to several hours ago. “Why don’t you try to get some rest?”

  “I’m fine.” I dismiss her suggestion without giving it a second thought.

  “You’re not fine, Asher. Or do I need to remind you that you were in that car too?” she scolds.

  “I just need to make sure she’s going to be okay,” I say, my gaze going back to Blakely.

  The vision of her unconscious, blood dripping from her head, hits me like a thousand pound weight and I have to work to shake the image away.

  “She is okay.” She gives me a reassuring smile even though I can tell she’s worried too.

&nbs
p; “I can’t leave.” I let out a loud exhale.

  “You’re not helping her by not taking care of yourself.”

  “I’m fine,” I state for a second time.

  “Okay.” She nods, clearly seeing I’m in no mood to be pushed. “Why don’t you come down to the cafeteria with me? I’m sure it’s been hours since you’ve eaten.”

  “I’m not hungry.” I shake my head as I lean forward and take Blakely’s limp hand in mine. “I need to be here with her.”

  “Tyler’s on his way,” she says almost apologetically. “He called from the airport when he landed to say he would be here soon.”

  “Let him come,” I grumble. “I’m still not leaving.”

  “Asher,” she tries again, falling silent when my gaze slices to her.

  “Please, Leslie.”

  “I’ll be in the cafeteria if you need me.” She nods. “If she wakes...”

  “I’ll come find you immediately,” I promise.

  She nods again, slowly backing out of the room.

  My eyes trail back to B, her beautiful face scratched and bruised. My stomach twists and I have to rest my forehead on the bed out of fear that I might pass out.

  The wreck happened so quickly I didn’t have time to process it. One minute we were cruising along and the next the car was in the air. We flipped six times before we finally came to rest in the upright position. I knew I was hurt, but when I saw B next to me it was like I didn’t have a scratch on me.

  The passenger side was so smashed in I couldn’t get the door open. I had to climb out of the broken window, managing to slice my hand open pretty good in the process. Getting Blakely out proved even more challenging. The driver’s side had taken the brunt of the impact, leaving Blakely’s leg trapped under the dash.

  I don’t remember calling 911. It’s as if I was acting on autopilot. Paramedics showed up as I worked to free Blakely from the car. They took over, forcing me into an ambulance where I apparently lost consciousness. The next thing I knew I was looking up at a white ceiling with a nurse hovering over me taking my vitals.

  She explained I had been in an accident. That I had suffered a mild concussion, several bumps and bruises, and needed stitches in my hand, but otherwise I was intact. It took a few minutes for my brain to catch up. It was like I could remember the accident, but given the pain medication and overall trauma everything was cloudy. Eventually the memories started to seep back in, and once they did there wasn’t a doctor or nurse in this hospital that could keep me from finding Blakely.