“I’m horny.”
Okay, maybe not. “Something real.”
“Okay, I’m really horny.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re impossible to like?”
“Daily, actually. I’ve been waiting for you to catch on.”
“It’s lucky for you I don’t scare easily.”
“Lucky, you say.” Asher nudges me. “You’re a pain in my ass.”
“I will be.” I bounce my eyebrows, and it makes him laugh. He also doesn’t deny it which is interesting.
Asher puts on a mocking voice. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re impossible to like?”
“You really are such a charmer. I will never understand why you’re still single.”
There’s a slight pause before he says, “I’ve been wondering the same thing about you.”
Something in the way he drops the snark from his tone makes me fluttery inside.
“High standards.”
“So this is you slumming it?”
This … I actually don’t know what this is.
Sex, obviously, Kole.
It’s just really hot sex.
So I don’t know why I’m tempted to ask him what’s been on my mind for a while.
Even though we’re not lying particularly close, the way he’s studying me makes prickles creep along my skin. I want to move closer, but I know that’s tempting fate a step too far.
“Can I ask you something?” I finally dare say.
“Obviously, but it doesn’t mean I have to answer.”
I’m worried bringing this up now will stress him, but I may not get another chance. “Your brother maybe mentioned that you never, umm, got sad. Over your parents.”
Asher grunts.
“We don’t have to talk about it.”
He stays silent.
“I just want you to know, it’s okay. My nan died last year, and I swear I cried for a week. It’s not the same thing, I get it. But losing people leaves these little holes, like the gross, rock-hard cookies she’d bake and bring over every Sunday. I used to hate forcing them down, or wearing the ugly beanies she knitted me, or hugging her and getting a nose full of whatever strong perfume she used. I miss it now though …”
I let the conversation die between us, and I swear the silence stretches on so long Asher’s going to ignore it completely.
When he finally does talk again, it’s so soft I can barely hear him. “Before I left for the juniors … Dad and I got up early every morning. We ate breakfast together, didn’t even talk half the time because he was reading his paper and I was playing on my phone.” Asher pauses for a moment, and I hear him swallow. “After it … happened, I was at that table, eating breakfast and scrolling through my phone, and I saw an article on Gretzky and leaned over to show it to Dad, but … he wasn’t there.” Asher shifts, pulling his arms tight against his chest, and I watch as the brief hurt on his face quickly clears. “Anyway, it is what it is. Life’s shitty. Look at tonight. We should be fucking, and instead we’re talking about ghosts. Fun times.”
I really wish he wouldn’t do that, but I get the feeling passing it off as nothing is Asher’s way of coping. It’s not healthy, and I’m sure it can’t last forever, but instead of making him see it, I lean in a little and brush my lips softly over his. “Thank you for telling me.”
When I pull back, he looks a little freaked-out. “Whatever. It’s nothing.”
“Of course.” It isn’t nothing. “So tell me more nothing. What’s your favorite color?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Mine’s gold.”
“That’s not a color.”
“Technically, it is.”
“Fine. Mine’s black like my soul.”
I laugh. “Uh-huh. Totally big and scary and empty.”
“What was it you called me? An emotionless trash can?”
“Close enough.”
“Well, we can’t all have sunshine radiating out of our asses.”
“So that’s why you’re obsessed with my ass?”
He looks way more like himself as he reaches over and grabs me. His hand squeezes tight over my ass cheek, and he drags me a little closer.
I pull back. “Answer’s still no.”
“But I think I hurt my dick out there.” He pretends to pout. “It needs to be kissed better.”
“No blowing your load or you might blow your brain.”
He sniggers. “Aren’t you supposed to be a doctor?”
For some reason seeing him smile makes me smile. I drop a quick kiss on his nose this time. “Shut up and go to sleep.”
He reluctantly lets go of me and rolls onto his back. “I hate you.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
17
Asher
Like I knew I would be, I’m cleared to play the next day, and we kick ass. There’s no stopping us. We walk away with a 7-2 win, and it’s the first time all season we actually win with a substantial lead. The bus ride back to Colchester immediately afterward was full of overexcited hockey players on a high from the W, but the whole time, my gaze kept falling to Kole’s.
Was it frustrating our sex plans went to shit because of a stupid nonexistent head injury? Yes. But at the same time, the way he slept next to me … took care of me … my chest warms, and I know I should hate that feeling, but I strangely don’t.