“Answer him.” He removes his hand from my lips, and my eyes widen, but Asher only moves faster.
“N-no,” I say, a little more high-pitched and breathless than intended. “I’m really…tired.”
Asher smirks and leans down to bite my nipple. I moan—loudly—and I hear a chuckle outside the room.
“Tired, huh? Okay, well, do you want us to bring you anything back?”
“God, yes,” I breathe, as I climb higher and higher.
“Yes?” Adrian asks.
“I mean no!”
The asshole on top of me brings his hand down to rub his thumb in just the right spot, and that’s it. I can’t take it anymore.
“Well, which is it?” an amused Adrian questions.
I’m going to come. I can’t hold back. I finally break apart, practically convulsing. Asher crushes his mouth to mine to muffle my screams, kissing me deep and hard. Then he’s pulling out, spilling on my thigh with a groan.
“Goddamn,” he mutters into my ear. “You’re beautiful when you come.”
“Oh my God,” I whisper, feeling myself flush with equal parts embarrassment and ecstasy. Ash collapses on top of me, face pressed into my sweaty neck, and a few moments later, we hear a vehicle starting.
“Do you think he knows?” I ask dumbly.
“He’d be a fucking idiot not to.”
My heart hammers in my chest even harder now, and my panicked eyes meet his. Except now he looks…angry.
“My brother!” It hits me that if Adrian knows, my brother is going to in about five seconds.
“Don’t trip, Bry. I’ll handle it,” he says, rolling off me.
The moment is gone.
The feeling is gone.
And why wouldn’t it be? Because the boy I knew is gone, too.
“Okay,” is all I say, feeling more vulnerable than ever as I pull the sheet up to cover my naked self. I’m done trying. Done hoping. I just slept with the ghost of the boy I used to love, and now I’m left feeling emptier than before.
“Okay,” he repeats, swinging his legs over the bed and pulling on his boxers. He hastily snatches up the rest of his clothes and storms away. Once he’s to my bedroom door, he pauses.
“Fuck!” he shouts, and I jump as his fist hits the wall next to the doorframe, cracking the drywall. Tears spring to my eyes, and before my vision clears, he’s gone.
And then I’m alone. With the evidence of our transgressions drying on my thigh and tears drying to my cheek.
Two weeks. Two weeks since I’ve laid eyes on Asher. I don’t know if he’s not staying here anymore, or if he’s only coming around when I’m not here. It’s safe to say we’re avoiding each other. Or at least, I was for the first week. I stayed with Nat, not wanting to run into any of the boys who occupy my house at any given moment.
I’ll admit it. I wallowed. Nat listened to the whole story, only interjecting to offer to kill him and throw out the occasional expletive, like any self-respecting best friend should. Then, she threw me the best pity party, full of Netflix and wine and pizza. The second day was full of manicures, pedicures, massages, followed by shopping at her mother’s boutique. It stung knowing Asher regretted sleeping with me before our breathing even returned to normal, but buying pretty lingerie and being pampered helps even the most broken of hearts. Mine was just a little bruised.
Now, though, I’m not sad. I’m angry. No, I’m fucking pissed. I’ve done nothing wrong. So, I decided to go home. It’s my home, after all. When I saw Dash later that night, he asked what I was doing staying with Nat for so long, and I blamed it on her, saying that she was going through something. He gave me a look that
screamed bullshit, but he didn’t push. And surprisingly, he didn’t allude to knowing about Ash and me.
Now, I sit on the couch in the living room with my laptop on my crossed legs, attempting to decide on where I want to go to college and what I want to study. I startle when Adrian comes waltzing through my front door. He’s wearing a plain, loose, white tank top, dark jeans, and black, designer sunglasses. Even when he’s in casual attire, he looks like a million bucks.
Adrian smiles, his deep dimples on display, and plops down next to me on the couch like he owns the place.