Asher (3 page)

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Authors: Jo Raven

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult & College, #Sports

BOOK: Asher
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A light flickers in her dark eyes. She’s pleased, is that it?

That makes me angry, but what right do I have to be? It’s her apartment. She pays for it. I’m a squatter, and she hasn’t agreed to an impromptu sofa hugger.

All of a sudden feeling tired, I gather my few things—my change of clothes, my toothbrush and toothpaste, my socks, and stuff them in my beaten rucksack.

I have to go back home. I don’t have money to rent a place. My temporary jigs don’t pay much and all I earn goes into Dad’s pockets for his drinking debts. I have to stick it out, get my shit together, find a better job.

Maybe Zane can help me. I should talk to him; open up, tell him the whole story, the whole problem—not just the bits and pieces he’s gathered. Maybe he’s got better ideas than I can come up with.

But I’m not sure I want to open up. Or that I can move out of Dad’s house. Who will take care of him when he passes out drinking? He’s the only family I have left. He’s still my dad when he’s sober.

Meanwhile, I take my leave from Zane’s apartment. I am, once more, on my own.

Chapter Three

Audrey

Time passes fast when you’re busy, so I make sure I have no free time. Apart from the obligatory core courses, I’ve selected extra Art and Modern Dance. My schedule complete, I throw myself into student life.

It’s terrifying and fun at the same time. So much to learn and so many new people to meet. In English class I make a new friend, a girl named Dakota. She’s wild—a cool punk girl, the lead singer of a band and tattoo addict. Her upper back is covered in beautiful ink—a butterfly of death with a central skull—and she rocks colorful arm bands. Yeah, I have a weakness for tats, even though I sport none.

Plus she keeps stealing my chocolate. A girl after my own heart.

We often go for coffee after English class to gossip about our hot, young professor. He isn’t my style—too clean and proper—but I go along for the laughs.

Living on my own is another huge challenge. I have a small apartment all to myself—one bedroom and a living room with a kitchenette.

But its best feature is a bay window facing toward Lake Monona. The lake’s too far to see but the moist breeze comes in the mornings and it feels good on my face as I prepare for classes. I’ve set up my study there, my piles of books and papers and my laptop. That’s also where I sit talking to my mom on the phone in the evenings, telling her about my new life, and listening while she rambles on about her friends and her gym classes.

Mom worked her ass off after Dad died—partly because it was necessary and partly to fill the void Dad’s death had left.

That meant I rarely got to see her, and my only solution was to follow her example. I threw myself into studying and also drawing. Not that I’m a particularly good artist, but it helped me get out my sadness and frustration and fear. The therapist suggested it and I took to it with relief.

Funny how I often end up drawing a boy with tousled dark hair and icy eyes, a tattoo crawling up his neck like a snake.

I shred those drawings as soon as they are done and ball up the paper in shaky hands. I’m not supposed to still want Ash. The one who kissed me and then ignored me for so long; who broke my heart long before the accident.

My subconscious’s playing dirty games and I don’t like it one bit.

We were best friends once. We were neighbors, practically next door, only one house separating us. Asher’s family moved in when I was nine. While I rarely saw Ash’s big brother Tyler, for the next five years Ash and I were inseparable. Ash stayed at my house more often than he did in his. We played and talked and shared secrets.

At least I did. Ash was always quiet. He listened a lot, and smiled. He did tell me of his dreams for the future. Whereas mine were wild, typical childhood dreams of becoming a famous singer and actress, his were modest. Very grown-up. He wanted to be a gymnast. He was good at sports, especially running. I used to like that.

Until he ran away from me.

***

Tessa comes to pick me up after classes a couple of weeks later. She waves from behind the wheel of her Jeep Cherokee and grins as I open the door and climb in beside her.

“What’s up, girl?” She high-fives me and hums a tune under her breath.

“Why so hyper today?”

“I met a real nice guy in math class.” She pulls off the curb and executes a u-turn. I assume we’re going to her favorite cafe: Indie Coffee, the place to get the best waffles in town. “He’s so cute. He asked for my number.”

I don’t know what’s up with me today, but I blurt the first thing that comes to my mind. “And what about Dylan?”

Her smile falls. “What about him?”

It’s as if nothing has changed since we were in high school: Tessa making out with every cute boy available to avoid facing the truth.

“Tess, you’ve been in love with Dylan since you were twelve.”

Yeah, my mouth is still on autopilot. I vow to keep it shut for the rest of the evening.

“You’re in a mood today.” She makes a face at me. “I thought we agreed that Dylan and me—not gonna happen again and... Oh shit.”

“What?”

“Forgot. We can’t go to Indie Coffee. I told Zane and Dylan we’d meet them at the Sunroom Cafe.”

I frown. I was looking forward to having a quiet coffee with Tess, and although I like Zane, he reminds me too much of Ash; of seeing him at the party a few weeks ago.

“So this boy,” Tessa says, driving like a madwoman, as always. “His name’s Andrew, and he’s hot. Burn-your-sheets hot. And—”

“Blond, blue-eyed, and used to be a quarterback?” I wink at her.

She scowls. “Audrey...”

It’s funny. Her boyfriends—or rather her crushes, since she never seems to settle down with a boy for more than a few days—always look like Dylan.

Then again, I can’t talk. All of mine look like Ash. So yeah, in fact it’s not funny at all.

“Hey, did you hear a word I said?” Tessa throws me a sidelong look full of suspicion. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” I lie.

“Do you mind meeting Zane?”

“No, of course not.” And I need my caffeine shot. I plan on working late on a French language project tonight. “He’s a nice guy.”

“Yeah, he is. A loyal friend. And quite the looker.”

It’s my turn to eye her suspiciously. “You’re not trying to set me up with Zane, are you?”

“He’s a bad boy. He’s just your type.”

“Hey, lots of guys are my type. It doesn’t mean I’ll date them all.”

“You’ve been single for ages. You need to get laid.”

“Oh come on. I only broke up with Mitch a few months ago.”

“That ass? You should never have gone out with him in the first place.”

What can I say? She’s right. The problem with dating bad boys is that they often are very bad. Mitch fit the bill. Handsome, full of tats and piercings. And unfaithful, crass and violent.

Did I mention unfaithful? Because that really hurt.

“I don’t need a boyfriend right now, thank you,” I say, trying to hold on to my dignity. “I have a lot on my hands with the move and classes. I need time to get my feet under me. Besides, Zane has a girl. I saw them together at his party.”

“That wasn’t his girl. It was Meg. Just a chick he hangs out with.”

I shake my head and we drive in silence to the cafe. It isn’t the first time Tessa tries to play matchmaker—but seriously,
Zane
? He isn’t exactly like a brother to me—we aren’t that close—but he’s like a cousin of sorts. I don’t even want to think about kissing him.
Gross.

And I doubt he wants me to, either.

The cafe is right on the edge of the campus. An icy drizzle has started. We jump out of the Jeep and run inside.

The boys have chosen a table by the window. Zane’s tall Mohawk is visible from afar and Dylan’s purple bangs seem to glow. They have tall latte cups sitting in front of them and they must be deep in a discussion, because when we settle down they both look up as if surprised to see us.

“I still can’t get used to seeing you around, Audrey,” Dylan says, grinning, and I find myself staring at the silver ring in his lip again.

“Still can’t get used to it either,” I admit. “It’s like traveling back in time.”

Tessa sends me a concerned look. Traveling back in time equals remembering the accident, so I can’t blame her for being worried.

“So what’s so special about this cafe?” I ask to change the topic. “Why here?”

“Zane’s actually here for the waitress,” Dylan mutters. He nods at the other side of the cafe where a pretty dark-haired girl is taking orders. I recognize her from his party.

“Meg, right?” I watch her saunter to the back of the cafe and disappear behind the bar. So much about her being just “a chick” Zane “hangs out with.”

Tessa groans, surely because her matchmaking plans have been foiled by cruel fate.

Zane’s gaze follows Meg and he grins. “Actually... We’re here for the lattes. Best in town. I recommend them.”

“Sounds good.” With Meg gone, I look around for another waiter. “I’ll have one—”

Oh no.
I can’t be seeing clearly. That can’t be.

“Audrey?” Tessa waves a hand in front of my face.

Talking of cruel fate... I blink, but I still see him. “What’s he doing here?”

Zane twists to see. “Ash? He works here, too. Meg got him the job.”

Dylan frowns. “Z-man...” Looks like I’m not the only one who hasn’t been told. He turns to me. “Audrey, I didn’t know he works here. We can go if you like.”

“The hell you will,” Zane mutters. “This is ridiculous.”

I close my eyes for a second, trying to regain my composure.

Then all conversation ceases as Ash approaches us, electronic notepad in hand, and I know the moment he spots me because his eyes go wide. He looks good, even better than the last time I saw him. His messy hair is cut shorter, and it makes his pale blue eyes look bigger.

He looks cute. Hot. The realization makes my chest tight—with panic, anger, and a strange longing that’s there every time I lay eyes on him.

“Hey guys.” His voice, always a little raspy, sends a shiver over me. I haven’t heard it in so long. “What can I get you?”

“I heard your lattes are good,” Tessa says brightly. “Audrey?”

I nod, robbed of speech. Maybe that’s for the best. I don’t know what might come out of my mouth.

“Lattes it is.” He jots the order on the device and the way he worries his lower lip between his teeth is distracting. Then he looks up, straight at me, and the heat in those cool eyes nails me.

God.

I’m still until he turns around and leaves. I watch him go, a breath caught in my throat.

“Christ, Audrey.” Tessa huffs. “I swear you were murdering him with your eyes.”

“What are you talking about?” I protest. “I wasn’t.”

Zane rubs a hand over his face. “In his shoes, I’d have run out of here and wouldn’t stop until I reached Canada.”

Really?
“I bet it’s Dylan’s expression that sent him running.”

Dylan’s still scowling in the direction Ash went.

“You fuckers...” Zane shakes his head. “You don’t get it.”

“Nothing to get,” Dylan says. “Ash and Audrey in the same room? Not a good idea. She doesn’t like it, man. Get over it.”

Meg brings our lattes and I don’t see Ash again the whole time we’re there. Did I really look so pissed off? I didn’t know my face has that power and I’m not sure how I feel about it.

Because all I could think of when he looked at me was how soft his mouth looks and how I want to kiss him again.

***

“You know, Audrey, I don’t understand,” Tessa says as she drives me back home later.

“Don’t understand what exactly?”

“Why you’re so pissed at Asher.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Explain it to me. Ash is a good guy.”

“His dad—”

“I know who his dad is. We’re talking about Ash, not his dad. I’m not mad at you for confusing the two, but, hey, one is old and a drunkard, the other is a young hot stud.”

I bury my face in my hands. My heart pounds. “Why don’t you leave it be, Tess?”

“Because.” She parks in front of my building and sighs. “I know the accident left its marks on you, but I don’t believe for one second you’re blaming Ash for something his dad did. It’s an excuse for you to keep your distance, I get that. But maybe it’s time you stopped looking for excuses not to talk to him. The thing is, Aud, I keep teasing you about Dylan and Zane, but I know Asher is the one you want.”

“What?” I put my hands down. “That’s bullshit.”

“Be honest with yourself. I’ve known you since you were little, and you’ve been in love with Ash from the start.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“There you go, denying it again.”

“Because it isn’t true!”

Is it?

“Ash isn’t anything like his father,” Tessa says. “At all.”

“And how would you know?”

Tessa shrugs. “I’ve been here. Met him many times over the years.”

“Dylan didn’t seem so pleased to see him.”

“Dylan can be an idiot sometimes.” Tessa sighs again. “He and Asher drifted apart over the years. Dylan always blamed Asher for turning so cold with you in high school.”

“I blame Asher for that, too.”

“Maybe he’s changed. Zane says he has. He vouches for Ash. Give him a chance.”

I so don’t want to talk about this anymore. “I’m going up. Good night, Tess.”

“Audrey.”

I pause with my car door open. “What?”

“That boy is hot. And he wants you.”

“No, he doesn’t. He never has.”

And that’s that as far as I’m concerned. I’m not falling into that trap again.

***

Fall rolls into winter seamlessly, the sky growing darker, the nights longer. Thanksgiving break comes, and everyone drives home to their families.

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