I’m torn between feeling like I’m intruding and relieved that Asher seems to want me here.
“We were just talking about Dad and June before you got here,” West says.
Asher shifts. “You were?”
“Yeah. We were sort of done, but if there’s anything you—”
“No.” He shoves a spoonful of pie in his mouth. “But, Em, what about you?”
“I used to love when Mom made chocolate milk with ice cream and sprinkles. And helped with the hard levels on the Xbox. And how Dad used to take us to ride our bikes after school and sometimes let us watch movies with swearing in them.”
West smiles. “That last one was one of Bennett’s favorites too.”
“I think it’s funny that Dad couldn’t tell us apart,” Ben adds. “Just like West.”
West shifts. “Dad couldn’t tell you apart either?”
“Nope. And then when he could, we’d pretend we were the other one to confuse him.”
Asher’s lips purse like he’s trying not to laugh.
“You don’t do that to me, do you?” West asks.
The twins just grin at each other, and even with all the worry about Asher still hanging over my head, it settles something that’s been coiled tight inside me for a while.
Maybe chaos is this family’s default.
“That’s not the only thing West got from Dad,” Zoe says. “What about his horrible cooking skills. His specialty dish is anything burned.”
Asher cracks up.
“You’re not much better,” Zoe mutters to him, and his face falls.
The rest of the kids think it’s hilarious.
As we sit here, and they talk about their parents, and school, and the parts of today they actually enjoyed, West truly laughs, and both he and Asher relax for maybe the first time since I’ve known them.
“I’m tired,” Asher finally says, and he sounds it.
I have a moment to panic that we didn’t get to talk, and maybe now still isn’t the time to bring it up. When Asher turns to me with tension lining his expression, I expect him to tell me to go home. Instead, he pulls me up and tugs me toward his room.
I swallow thickly and somehow still manage to say goodnight and sound remotely normal.
My feet drag as I follow him downstairs.
Even though I’ve been waiting for this moment all afternoon, I’m still not sure I’m prepared.
Fighting with Asher feels unnatural.
But I’m worried it’s about to happen anyway.
31
Asher
All I wanted this Christmas was an improvement on last year. I’m not sure an awkward dinner with my boyfriend’s family and a hospital visit is an improvement or more of the same shit.
At least the kids seemed happy when we got home, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of utter failure washing over me.
It’s important moments like this that make me question whether West and I are the right people for the job. It’s a constant tide of thinking I’m acing this shit and thinking they’d be better off with real parents.
“Asher—” Kole starts as soon as we’re in my bedroom, but I don’t let him get any further.
I turn and bury my head in his neck. “All I wanted was for their Christmas not to be as crappy as last year.”
Kole strokes my hair. “Hey, hospital visit aside, it was a pretty good day. And it ended with apple pie. Any day that ends with apple pie can’t be terrible. It’s, like, the law. Apple pie makes it all better. It’s scientific fact.”
I huff a laugh. “I thought it was the law?”
“Can’t the law and science be the same?”
I step back and pull him down with me onto my bed.
We lie on our sides, and I run my thumb down his cheek. His dirty-blond hair falls across his forehead, but his hazel eyes stare at me intently—expectantly—like he’s waiting for something.
“About West,” he says.
Oh. Right. I shake my head. “Forget about it.”
“No, I want to explain.”
“You don’t really have to. I mean, my brother asked you to keep me in line, but you and I both know that’s not possible. Not if I didn’t let it happen. Not only that, but logically I know you wouldn’t be sleeping with me because my brother asked you to keep me out of trouble.”
Kole places his hand on my chest and pushes back. “Wait. You just said logically and then made the very insightful argument I was going to make. Who are you, and what did you do with my hothead boyfriend who should be jumping to all kinds of conclusions right now?”
I pull him back closer to me. “What kind of conclusions did you think I was going to jump to?”
“That the only reason I’m with you is for the team?”
“You hate hockey. I don’t see you pimping yourself out for the sake of it.”
“Oh good, you don’t think I’m a whore.”
I lean forward and kiss him. “You can be a whore for me if you like.”