Loving Asher

by Maya Rossi

  Those days were so simple. Each day I had something to look forward to even without father’s attention. Between mom and Asher and Dan, I had everything I needed. My eyes returned to my late brother’s. I could practically smell the sweat and grass, the gum he loved to chew during a game, the slickness of his hair.

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  The tears I was mightily fighting back dropped onto the dog-eared picture, right on my face. How fitting. Asher’s fingers crept over mine, squeezing lightly.

  “It wasn’t your fault, only Oswald’s.”

  A bitter laugh crossed my lips. “I thought you wanted to know what happened to the locket.”

  He grimaced, running a hand over his newly shaved head. I didn’t want to think too hard about how much I admired what he had done, shaving his hair for Rach.

  “I’m sorry, I was angry and--”

  “Because Rach wants us together?” I asked.

  “No,” he gave a caustic laugh, “Not that.”

  A heavy silence grew between us, punctuated by my rapid breaths. “Still want to know what happened to the locket?”

  “I think you’re going to tell me anyway.”

  “Father took it on my sixteenth birthday.” I dashed a hand across my cheek, sniffing back tears. “I lost the u-16 championship final--”

  “It’s a team game--”

  “I lost it,” I snapped, his kindness stoking the flames of my anger, “so he took it away from me.” Tears choked my voice to a hoarse whisper. “It would have better if Dan lived and I died--”

  “Stop.” Somehow I was in Asher’s arms, his cologne and arms holding me close. “Your dad was always an asshole. Sounds like he still is.”

  I pushed at his shoulder, embarrassed by my tears. “If I hadn’t asked for--”

  “Stop. You were a child and he offered to go, remember?” Asher replied in a voice tight with strain, while his fingers massaged my neck and head absently.

  He let me cry. He didn’t say I would feel better or any of the nonsense people say in comfort. He didn’t offer to get me back the armband. He let me cry. Finally, I drew in a shuddering breath, leaning back to stare up at his handsome face. The evening light cast his eyes in shadows but I could just make out the shape of his nose and mobile mouth.

  I blame the silence and my post crying jag for what I did next. Slowly, I reached up and curled a hand around his neck, bring his face close to mine. The second our lips brushed, he exhaled raggedly.

  In the silence of his office we kissed, slowly, tentatively. And then hungrily. His fingers brushed over my cheek and jaw, he tilted my head to his liking and took over, robbing me of breath and will.

  As gently as it began, he ended the kiss. He ran a thumb over my lower lip, breath bathing my face and neck. I kept my eyes closed, unwilling to break the spell.

  He drew in a ragged gulp of air. “Rach--”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  Without a word, I pulled back. Smiling my thanks, I kissed the picture and handed it over. “Good night, Asher.”

  Chapter Six

  “You’ve been training too hard lately.”

  Rach sounded almost accusing. In another attempt at matchmaking, she had invited me over for dinner. Over the past weeks she had done that twice. The first was on a pretext of feeling down and needing the company. The second was to celebrate selling off her share of the bakery she ran with a friend.

  It had been fucking painful to watch Rachel make these preparations for her death. There was no longer any talk of more tests. Rach said she was tired being prodded and operated on. After two breasts, she had nothing else left to give.

  “Georgie?”

  “What?”

  “You’ve been staying back and coming in early, training hard.”

  “I want to get my spot back.”

  I licked the icing from the cake off my fingers and smiled at my friend, trying not to let my worry seep through. Her thin arms protruded from the oversized t-shirt she wore like some cartoon stick character. Why do good people die quickly? Mom. Dan. Rach.

  “Ash’s worried about you.”

  The icing stuck halfway past my throat the vanilla creamy confection suddenly the size of a mountain. “The man thinks I’m a selfish bitch who thinks little of her team mates. I bet he can’t wait for me to leave the club.”

  Rach stopped, a spoonful of chocolatey goodness halfway to her mouth. “You’re leaving?”

  “No,” I admitted grudgingly, “but you get my point.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I knew you were hardly going to leave that armband behind.”

  I frowned, pushing the serving of banana cake aside. “You also think I value the armband more than my team mates?”

  “It looks that way,” Rach said quietly.

  “Which means he’s been right all along.”

  Rach sat on the counter, licking her spoon with exaggerated enjoyment. “I know you’ll do the right thing eventually. Now, how are you and Ash getting along?”

  My face went red with embarrassment and guilt. The kiss. Damn. I didn’t want to lose Rach’s friendship. What if the kiss changed everything between us? As I mulled over this, I kept my eyes fixed on a spot over her shoulder.

  Rach reached for my hand and squeezed. “Something happened?”

  “We-- uh kissed,” I whispered. “It was just a moment’s thing,” I added in a rush. “We were talking about Dan and I cried and the next thing I knew--”

  “You landed on my husband and kissed him?”

  I blanched, fear and dismay rioting through me at her icy expression. Then Rachel covered her face and burst into laughter. Relief slammed into my chest so hard, it left me breathless. Asher chose that moment to walk in, bringing with him the smell of sweat and grass and the outdoors. Their dog, Lacey ran forward, tongue out, tail wagging.

  Asher pulled his earbuds out of his ears. “Hey.”

  Rach smiled wide, accepted another lick from Lacey and waved him over. “Hey.”

  Asher walked over and I looked away. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him press a kiss to Rach’s mouth. My breath shuttled in my lungs, those same lips had sucked on my tongue. Briefly. My gaze drifted up and our eyes met over Rach’s head.

  I froze, a blaze of white noise roaring through my ears. His eyes tracked down to my mouth and away. I dove for my cake, fumbled and watched with horror as it slid over the counter to the ground.

  “Oh, god.” I bent over the shards. Lacey barked and ran over. I struggled to hold him back while I gathered the shiny shards but before I would pick one, Asher gripped my hand. I gasped and he released me.

  “Sorry,” we said at the same time.

  We stepped away from each other. Our eyes danced to and away, and I found it difficult to look away. Until Rach breezed in and I jumped.

  She rolled her eyes, stooping to pack up the shards into a dust pan. “My two favorite people. So you kissed, big deal. Can we not make this awkward?”

  “So what, after dinner, I will fuck Georgie and you’ll be happy?” Asher slammed his hand on the counter. “Is that what you want?”

  Rach gripped the dustpan, voice lowering with the force of her emotion. “I love you and want you to be happy and--”

  “Cheating on you won’t make me happy.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t give me that, I know you want her, I know you even love her. Maybe she’s the one you’ve always wanted and I’m the willing replacement.”

  “What are you even talking about?” Asher took the dustpan from Rach and unceremoniously dumped them into my arms. He grabbed Rach and led her to the living room. Shocked at the turn the dinner had taken, I moved on auto pilot, straining my ears to follow the conversation.

  I got back in time to hear Rach say, “Don’t tell me you love me, I’m not stupid.”

  “For fuck’s sake, why are you doing this?” Asher went down, dropping to his haunches before Rachel. “I know this is a difficult time and--”

&
nbsp; “I see the way you look at her.” She wiped back tears. “I’m not angry, I’m just-- is it possible to love two women?”

  I stopped at the counter, wishing I was anywhere but here, knowing this is just the place I wanted to be. I braced myself to hear his answer.

  “I don’t--”

  “I’m going to die, let’s be real. Please.” Rach blew her nose, smiling her thanks as Ash handed her a handkerchief. “Your fights--”

  “I find her selfish and a bit of a bitch to her team mates, I know she’s your friend--”

  “That’s not where I’m going Ash,” Rach interrupted. She reached for Asher, running her hand over his shaved head. “I never thanked you for this.”

  Asher’s eyes fell closed in exasperation. “You’re my wife.”

  “What you have with her--”

  “There’s-- there’s--”

  “Nothing. Nothing really?”

  Asher sprang to his feet, his features drawn in confusion. “We kissed and that--”

  “It doesn’t matter--”

  “Like hell it doesn’t. You’re my wife.”

  Rach wrapped her arms around her body. “And in less than a month, I will be no longer. I just want…”

  “What? And please don’t say you want me to be happy.”

  She laughed, pitching her head back against the couch. “I want to know if I was right.”

  Asher’s voice dropped low with trepidation. “Not about…”

  “Yes, about you and Georgie? Oh, yes.”

  He groaned, heart wrenching and pleading. “Please.”

  “Do you believe in love at first sight?” she asked.

  I burst through the kitchen to the living room, grabbing my bag from the counter as I walked past. “I uhmmm, I’ll get going.”

  Rach jerked up, her gaze accusing. “You promised!”

  Asher wouldn’t meet my gaze. I shuffled in place, embarrassed and awkward. “Rachel--”

  “Please.”

  Somehow, I sat. Before my ass would meet the chair, Asher glared and I froze.

  “You could just go home,” he retorted.

  Rach kicked his feet. “Oh, stop.

  I sat gingerly, watching the couple who were my best friends in a way. Asher scratched his head, ran weary hand up and down his face. They still hadn’t released a statement to the press about Rach. I realized then that Asher would have to take time out from the club duties. If we got to the final, it could be without him.

  “I met a guy,” Rachel said in a tone that could only be described as wistful. I jerked in surprise.

  “You met a guy,” Asher repeated on a dubious high. “What guy?”

  “Don’t even know his name. It was a week before our wedding.” She caught his hand and squeezed. “I went to the mall, grabbed more than I could carry. I was stumbling out when this guy comes in juggling a baby. It was just three minutes, Ash. Just three minutes.”

  “And what?”

  “It sounds silly but I just loved him,” she shook her head in wonder, “that three minutes was headier than any drug, stronger than anything.” Her eyes met Asher’s, heavy and significant. “More fulfilling than anything.”

  He pulled away. Asher clenched his fists and released them, pulling in a deep breath. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I told myself it was silly, I had known you for three years. So I stayed and married you and I don’t regret it for one second,” she added hurriedly.

  “Doesn’t sound like it,” Asher said. He looked more curious than angry. With his legs splayed wide and head tilted at a cocky angle, he seemed larger than life, a far cry from the suited civilized tactician on the touch line.

  “I only wonder what could have been,” Rachel whispered. “It was just three minutes, I was so high on being in his presence, I can’t even recall what was said. But the feeling? It’s irreplaceable.”

  A heavy shroud of silence enveloped us. It wasn’t awkward, just uncomfortable. I shifted in place, waiting for someone to break it.

  Asher reached for Rachel. “I get it.”

  “You do?” she asked with arched brows.

  “Yes, you said it yourself. You want me to be happy and I love you for it. But--”

  “I want you to have what I never did. True love.”

  Asher leaned forward, pushing the full force of his personality behind his words. “I love you.”

  Rachel shook her head, lifting his hand to press a kiss to his fingers. “Your love for me is fragile, comfortable and easy. It’s protective, loyal and steady.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “Yes, but why make do with good when you can have great?”

  Asher closed his eyes and shook his head. “I--”

  “I know,” she kissed his fingers, “but you know what I mean.”

  “You’ve gone to all these lengths but have you asked the lady in question if she’s interested?”

  Rachel smiled wide, looking across at me. “Oh, I guarantee it.”

  Chapter seven

  “Georgia, I need you out there.”

  I looked from Asher’s handsome features tight with urgency and strain to the field where my team mates currently labored.

  It was the second leg semi final of the championship. It was win or go home. Asher roamed the touchline screaming instructions and obscenities, the opposing team’s technical area matched him in intensity. On the field, the story was a little different. Even if they hadn’t scored, the momentum of the game was with the girls from Missouri. They weren’t joking around.

  Twenty minutes to go, win or go home. To come in as a substitute in such a high stakes game was dicey. I hadn’t played in so long, I no longer trusted myself. I licked dry lips.

  “Asher, please.”

  He smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You were born for this. I. need. you. Please.”

  In a flurry of motion, I divested myself off the training vest and laced up. In seconds, I was by the touchline waiting for instructions.

  “Georgie,” Asher said, “trust your team mates.”

  Twenty minutes later, our fans went wild with celebration. Asher was more subdued, looking dazed. Sometimes I forgot he was some what new at this. If we won it would be his first championship. By the time everyone left for home, my back ached from the many slaps it had received.

  I knocked and stuck my head into Asher’s office. “Hi.”

  He glanced up from his phone. “Come in, Georgie.”

  Feeling inordinately shy, I crept forward. “Thank you.”

  He dropped the phone and covered his face with his hands. “For what?”

  “Believing in me.”

  “Believing in you?” He met my gaze calmly. “You were captain, a legend before I got here and benched you. Don’t think I don’t know how much it cost you, don’t think--”

  “For believing in me.”

  Our eyes snagged and held. The tension between us straining and tightening like a rope tugged back and forth. I breathed in deep, conscious of the movement of air in and out of my lungs-- loud and halting. His eyes tracked down my features to my lips like a living breathing thing.

  “Come here.”

  Later, I might feel shame for how I dove for him, hungry for the strength of his arms around me. I inhaled his smell and pressed my face into his neck. He rubbed my head and back and up again.

  I drew back. “Thank you, I just…”

  “What?” he asked, voice sounding funny.

  “I was never a good captain, I prefer to play than bother with players’ feelings or quarrels or issues. It’s not my thing.” I clenched my fists on his chest, staring at them rather than him. “You were right, I might have gotten selfish and--”

  “Hey, you got the assist today, you were phenomenal.”

  I studied him. “You think so?”

  His eyebrows flew to his hairline. “You want to watch the clip again, see your amazing play in midfield?”

  “Dad said no matter what I di
d, I’ll never be the footballer Dan was,” I mumbled.

  Asher cursed softly, tightening his arms like a protective band around me. “And that’s why you play selfishly, hog the ball and end up ineffective.”

  The protest rose to my lips, immediate and sure. “It’s not….maybe?”