Rain 01 When It Rains (19 page)

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Authors: Lisa De Jong

BOOK: Rain 01 When It Rains
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“Do you have to go? I sure wouldn’t mind watching movies with you all day,” he says lightly kissing my lips.

“I’ll take you up on that someday, but today is not that day.” I smile.

“Have it your way then. If you change your mind later, you have my number.” He winks, unraveling his arms and sitting up in the bed. I instantly miss his warmth.

“I’ll grab your clothes from the dryer,” he says, standing and stretching his arms above his head.

I certainly wouldn’t mind wearing his sweatpants and t-shirt home; they have his woodsy scent all over them and it settles everything inside of me. It amazes me how much I notice about him that I don’t notice about anyone else . . . he’s a colorful abstract painting that I can’t peel my eyes away from.

His room, however, is anything but a work of art. His walls are a sterile white without a single thing hanging on them. There’s a small oak desk against the wall opposite the bed, but the only thing that’s on it is a notebook.
There’s a window to the left of the bed with an old ivory curtain covering it, and an old worn dresser on the right side of the bed. While the room is obviously lived in, there isn’t anything that gives me a glimpse into Asher’s life.

“All clean,” Asher says, walking back into the room. He’s changed from his sweats into jeans and a navy blue t-shirt, which highlights every muscle on his arms and chest perfectly.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. I’ll wait for you in the living room so you can get dressed.”
 
He kisses the top of my head before exiting the room. I quickly change into my clean clothes and comb my fingers through my hair as the morning’s events run through my mind. Now that Asher and I understand each other, it’s easier to be honest with him when something happens that triggers a memory.

I’d thought I was just going fishing; in no way did I ever think I would tell Asher about my secret. After he’d told me his, I couldn’t hold back anymore. In fact, it just sort of came out as if it was meant to happen that way. And he didn’t judge me. He didn’t tell me everything I’d done wrong. He’d simply tried to wash away some of my fear by giving me memories that I would remember for the rest of my life. He’s erasing some of the hurt and fear from my heart.

I may not be into superheroes, but if I were, Asher would be it for me.

After I’m dressed, I quickly go in the bathroom to fix my ponytail and brush my teeth using my finger and some toothpaste I found in the drawer. When I’m done, I take a few extra minutes to look at myself in the mirror. There’s a hint of a change on my face and it looks, and feels, good.

I wish I could feel this way every minute of every day for the rest of my life. But if what happened with Asher is any indication, there will come a day when it rains and everything comes back to haunt me again. When it does, I know that Asher and his warm, soft lips will be strong enough to push it out of my memory.

As soon as I leave the bathroom, I spot Asher sleeping on the couch. He looks so peaceful with his arms crossed over his chest and head resting against the back of the couch. I hate to disturb him, but my mom will have a search party out for me if I miss movie day.

“Asher,” I say softly, gently shaking his shoulder.

He doesn’t even blink.

“Asher,” I repeat, shaking him a little harder this time.

He opens his eyes, taking a few seconds to adjust to the light. “I must have been exhausted. Are you ready to go?” he asks, stretching his arms along the top of the couch.

“You look tired. I can call my mom to come get me if you want to sleep,” I offer, rubbing my fingers together. My mom wouldn’t be too happy about having to leave the house on a Sunday, but it’s only a five minute drive. She can manage.

“I’m sorry. I’m just out of it, I guess,” he says, standing in front of me. “But no one is taking you home except me.” He brings his lips to mine, sucking on my lower one just long enough to drive my whole body completely insane. He pulls back with a wicked grin on his face. “Plus, if I drive you home, it gives me an excuse to do that one more time.”

“Just one more time?”

He closes the distance between us again, placing his large hands over my cheeks. “I’ll kiss you as often as you want. All you have to do is ask.”

“Kiss me,” I whisper, watching his lips shorten the distance to mine.

“Are you asking or are you telling?” he asks. His mouth is so close that his warm breath caresses my lips as our chests touch.

“I’m telling you,” I say, swallowing hard.

He moves even closer. I swear I almost feel his lips on mine . . . a mere whisper away. “And what if I don’t kiss you right now?” he asks, staring into my eyes so fiercely that I see my eyes reflected in his.

“Then I’ll just have to kiss you,” I reply, standing on my tip toes to pull his lower lip between mine, much like he had done to me. I’m not sure if it’s better to be on the giving or receiving end of this, but either way it feels really good.

“All better now,” I smile.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” he teases, grasping my hand in his.

“That’s one thing I’ve never been accused of,” I say, following behind as he starts toward the door. The crisp fall air pricks my cheeks as soon as we step outside.
The sky is clear, and leaves are beginning to settle in the grass in vibrant shades of red, orange and yellow. As I breathe in the change in season, I wish every day was just like this
one.

“And what time does movie day usually end?” Asher asks as soon as we’re both safe inside the car.

“Whenever we run out of movies to watch,” I shrug. I don’t think there are many we haven’t seen yet.

“There’s something I’d really like to do with you tonight.” There are all sorts of conclusions I can draw from his comment, but I keep in mind that he only seems to have my best interest in mind. He hasn’t shown me anything different since the day I met him.

“And what’s that?” I ask, staring at him intently. I get a fluttery feeling in my stomach looking at the half smile that appears on his face.

He rests his arm along the back of the seat and looks back to pull out of the driveway, peering at me through the corner of his eyes. “You’re just going to have to come over later to find out.”

“I’m not big on surprises,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

“We’re just going to have to change that.” He briefly looks toward me again, placing his hand on my knee, before focusing his attention back on the road. He’s right. Surprises don’t usually bring out good reactions in me, but the guy sitting next to me is full of ones that do.

“You can try.” I smile, glancing out the passenger side window. As we pull into town, we pass house after house. Most of the homes are probably about as old as the town, but people have always taken pride in their houses and lawns here. It gives the illusion of one of those perfect Brady Bunch reruns, but what those shows fail to illustrate is the truth of what goes on behind closed doors. It’s not full of people who have dinner together every night at six; it’s full of people living real lives with real problems. Drew grew up in one of the nicest houses in and around this town, but the beauty of the house doesn’t reflect the kind of guy that he is inside.

Some of us are just lucky enough to know the truth.

I’m so lost in thought that I don’t realize we’ve already arrived at my house until the car comes to a stop. It’s the small white house with chipped paint and weeds growing in the flowerbeds. Its appearance screams that we don’t care, or that we don’t have the money to care. I think it’s a combination of both, but it certainly doesn’t reflect the people we are.

I feel a big, slightly calloused hand wrap around mine. “Hey, what are you thinking about over there?”

“I was thinking about the houses and the people who live inside them.” I tell Asher my thoughts as his jaw works back and forth.

When I look over at him, but he quickly recovers, kissing each knuckle on the hand that rests in his. “You can’t keep dwelling on the things you can’t change,” he says, smiling sadly.

“I know that you’re right, but it’s easier to say than it is to actually do.”

“You should talk to someone about what happened to you. Like a counselor or something. You can’t keep carrying that kind of secret on your back. It’s eating you up inside,” he says, squeezing my hand.

He’s right, and I know it, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to take that step. “I’ll think about it.”

“If you ever need to talk again, I’m here for you,” he says, bringing my fingers to his lips.

“Thank you . . . for everything.”

We sit silently, staring into each other’s eyes. I’m realizing that there’s so much you can tell about a person from their eyes. I like what I see in Asher’s, but I want to strip the pain away.

“So I’ll see you tonight then?” he asks, scooting closer to me.

“I guess I can arrange that.” I bite my lower lip, waiting for him to make his move. His eyes are zoned in on my lips as he moves even closer. He presses a firm yet lingering kiss on them and I can’t resist pulling his hair between my fingers.

He breaks the kiss, resting the top of his forehead against mine. “Do you even realize how special you are?”

“I do when I’m with you,” I whisper.

He runs his fingers up and down my arm, sending shivers down my back. “I want you to feel that way all the time, with or without me.” I don’t like his somber tone, and I hate the mention of ever having to be without him.

“I like being around you too,” I say, swallowing hard. Asher opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted by a knock on the passenger side window.

When I look up, all I see are two pained blue eyes searing holes into my chest.

 

 

I
FEEL
LIKE
I’
M
ON
A
MERRY
-
GO
-
ROUND
that keeps spinning and spinning and won’t slow down. I’m sitting next to the man I think I’m falling for, while the man who has always been there for me, stares at me with fiery rage. It’s not a comfortable spot to be in.

“Who’s that?” Asher asks, leaning in close to get a better look at Beau.

“Um . . . that’s my friend, Beau,” I answer, trying to control my breathing.

“And why does your friend look like he wants to kill someone right now?”

I’m not stupid; I know exactly why Beau has a murderous look on his face. I told him I wasn’t ready for any of the things I’m now doing with Asher, and he just became a witness to the contrary. How do I even explain this? How do I tell him that Asher’s different without everything coming out wrong?

It’s like I’m in the middle of the road between two lanes of oncoming traffic . . . waiting for someone to come to me. This time, unfortunately, I need to save myself while figuring out how I’m going to do it without hurting either of these men in the process. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did—they’re the only friends I have left.

“I need to go talk to him,” I say, reaching for the door handle. Deep down, I think Asher will be okay, but I have to make Beau understand that this has nothing to do with him.

Asher doesn’t let me get too far away before pulling me back toward him. “I want to go with you.” His eyes peer into me with almost as much intensity as Beau’s. What have I gotten myself into?

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” In fact, I think it would be the equivalent of shooting Beau in the heart when he’s already on the ground.
I did this and I
 
need to be the one to take care of it.

“Please. Just let me meet him and then I’ll leave,” he pleads, moving his eyes up to Beau again.

I’ve been with Asher in some way or another for the last few weeks. I’ve given him some of my trust, and every day he earns a little more of it. I can trust him with this . . . I hope.

“Fine, but please don’t cause any trouble. Beau’s the only person I have besides you and my mom. I can’t afford to lose anyone right now.”

“I wouldn’t want you to,” he whispers, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

“Just promise me you won’t start anything, even if he tries,” I beg, glancing back and forth between his eyes.

“I promise.”

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