The Space Between Us (12 page)

  
“Promise me you won't walk down the hall in a towel?” I could hear the smile in his voice.

  
“Will you buy me a bathrobe?” I asked, only half joking.

  
“I'll buy you a damn muumuu,” he said, a full laugh escaping his lips. I relaxed, knowing the argument was past us. He pressed his lips to my forehead. “I'm sorry,” he said seriously. “Everything's changing and I just don't want us to drift apart. I am afraid you'll feel like I'm holding you back. I'm trying to hold on to you because I'm afraid you'll slip away.” I looked up into his eyes wondering how he could doubt anything about our relationship.

  
“Everything is changing, Asher. We are changing. But that doesn’t mean we can't change together. I want us to experience everything together. And we will get our chance to live together, just not this year.” I paused, hoping that finally he was taking in what I was saying to him.

  
He kissed the tip of my nose and then quickly moved away again.

  
“Let's get your stuff unpacked and then I'll take you to the frat.” And just like that, he seemed fine again. I shook my head at him slightly, marveling at his ability to go from angry to fine from one moment to the next. When Reeve finally came back to the room, she had an iced coffee in one hand and was furiously texting with the other.

  
“There is a coffee shop just three blocks over. And there were so many cute boys along the way! I got three phone numbers just on the way there.” Reeve was, for lack of a better word, boy-crazy. She was constantly dating, most of the time more than one boy at a time, and she had no shame about it at all.

  
“Pace yourself, Reeve. We've been here a total of one hour. There will be plenty of time to meet guys.”

  
“We're headed over to the house in a few minutes. Do you want to come with us?” Asher asked her. I rolled my eyes at both of them. The last place Reeve needed to be was a frat house.

  
“I have been waiting all summer to go to a frat house,” she said wistfully. This time Asher rolled his eyes too.

  
“Well,” I said, trying to sound excited. “Let's get this over with.”

   Asher was what you'd call a “Legacy”. His father and uncle were both members of Gamma Beta Phi, and his cousin was a current member.  Therefore, even though freshman weren't usually allowed to move into the house until after rush, Asher was given special privileges and given a room without question. He would eventually share it with whichever freshman was assigned as his roommate, but for the next two weeks he got it all to himself. Both his father and uncle made very generous annual donations to the house, so none of the brothers batted an eyelash at us as we walked in; he was as much a brother as any of the rest of them.

  
We drove by the house before, when we'd come to visit the campus during our senior year, but I'd never been inside before. We stood in a room that looked like it was used as a dining room. There were tables similar to those found in our high school's cafeteria with attached benches. The house smelled like beer. There was no other way to describe it – well, beer and boy. It was a distinct smell, not bad or good, but
there
.

  
Asher led us through the rest of the house pointing out different rooms, but they all looked similar. Pretty much empty, sparse furniture, and pretty gross. It was as if for the last ten years they hadn’t really given the place a good cleaning. There was no garbage or clutter, but no one had taken a mop to the floors in ages, cleaned the windows, or even thought about plugging in an air freshener. Our shoes made crackling noises as they were ripped from the sticky floors as we walked.

  
“Do all the frat houses look like this?” I asked, wrinkling my nose.

  
“Like what?” He asked, completely unaware of the state of his new living area.

  
“Like a bunch of college boys live here.” I answered, rolling my eyes. “Babe, this place is gross.” Asher looked completely shocked and a little hurt.

  
“You don't like it? It's huge. And fratty.” I could tell he was a little upset that I wasn't in love with the house, and I felt a little bad that I'd let my first impressions slip out to him. He didn't need me telling him I didn't like his frat house. He looked forward to being in this frat for as long as I had known him. I slipped my hand into his and gave him a gentle squeeze.

  
“It's definitely fratty,” I said with a smile. “It could just use a cleaning,” I said as sweetly as I could.

  
“Well, I'm sure once all the rushes are picked, they will have us scrubbing the whole house from top to bottom. That's what rush week is all about – being their bitches.” I nodded in understanding, trying not to let my face show how disgusting I thought it would be to have to clean the house. Just then a guy and a girl walked down the wide staircase that led into the foyer.  They stopped on the bottom step and the blonde girl turned to kiss the guy on the cheek.

   “I’ll see you later?”  She asked, her hand lingering on his chest.

   “Yeah.  Sure.  I’ll call you.”  He smiled at her, but even I could see his smile was forced and fake.  She smiled at him, lingering on the bottom step, but eventually turned towards us, heading for the door.  Her eyes stopped on Asher and her smile grew even wider.

   “Hello
, Asher,” she crooned at him.

   “Hey
, Tracy,” he said politely.  Her eyes wandered down his body as she took him in and I found my hand sliding into his, gripping it tightly.  She winked at him and then pushed past us, leaving through the sliding door.

  
“Hey, Asher. Giving the grand tour?” The guy on the stairs asked with a smile. He was obviously older, an upperclassman. He had blonde hair that swooped over to one side and striking blue eyes. I saw Reeve perk up at his entrance and she adjusted her posture, pulling her shoulders back, pushing her chest out even further. Shameless.

  
“Hey, Caleb. I was just showing the girls around. This is Charlie, my girlfriend, and our friend Reeve,” he said gesturing towards us. Caleb smiled at me but his eyes moved over to Reeve with interest.

  
“Reeve, huh? That's an interesting name. Is it short for something?” Her eyes lit up with his attention.

  
“Nope. My parents were just trying to make sure I didn't have the same name as anyone else.”

  
“Gotcha. Do you go to CU?” He leaned up against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest.

  
“Charlie and I are freshman this year,” she said.

  
“Will you be rushing a house?” The side of Caleb's mouth turned up with his question. Reeve absentmindedly started twirling a piece of hair around her finger.

  
“Charlie and I are both going to rush, and just pray we get into the same house.”

  
“Ah, I'm sure you'll be fine,” he said.

  
I felt Asher's face come in close to mine and his breath on my ear sent shivers down my spine.

  
“Come on,” he whispered. “I'll show you my room.” He tugged on my hand as he pulled me towards the stairs. As we walked past Caleb he gave Asher a nod and I heard him ask Reeve if he could give her the rest of the tour. I smirked because I couldn't decide which of them was in for more trouble. I followed Asher up two flights of winding stairs and then we walked down a long and narrow hallway lined with closed doors. It looked very much like our dorm. He stopped at a room and used a key to open the door. He swung the door open and let me enter first.

  
I was surprised, and relieved, that his room seemed much cleaner than the rest of the house. It was pretty simple – two beds, two dressers, one window. I could tell which side was his because I recognized the familiar comforter on his twin-sized bed. I sat down and ran my hand over the bedding, not expecting to feel so homesick all of a sudden. I'd only been gone a matter of hours. Asher knelt down in front of me and pushed my knees open so he was wedged in between my legs, his hands spread on top of my thighs.

  
“You ok?” He asked, always ridiculously in tune to how I was feeling. I put a smile on my face.

  
“Yes, I just didn't expect to see your bedding here. Made me sad for a minute.” He looked a little confused and started rubbing his hands up and down the tops of my legs.

  
“Why sad?”

  
I shrugged.

  
“I guess it just caught me off guard. Seeing something from home mixed in with your new room – it just makes it really obvious that we're not at home anymore.”

  
“Bit,” he said sweetly as he tucked a piece of my long hair behind my ear, “It will be ok. We will go home and visit all the time. You'll see. In a few days you won't even notice that you're not at home.” I smiled at him, not willing to tell him that it would take more than a couple of days to convince myself that my dad would be ok by himself. “Besides,” he said as he leaned in closer to me. “There are advantages to being here.” My eyes closed by their own will when his lips connected to my neck.

  
“Hmmm, and what would those advantages be?” I asked, my own voice sounded breathy and far away. He didn't answer with words but with his mouth trailed kisses up and down my neck. Like every other time he had his mouth on me, my heart beat wildly in my chest and my breathing came in rapid short pants. He pressed my shoulders back until I was laying on the bed and he pulled my shirt up so that it bunched up underneath the edge of my bra. I felt his big hands glide over my stomach and then his lips were on the sensitive skin around my belly button.

  
“Ash?” I groaned.

  
“Hmm?”

  
“Ash, Reeve could come up here any minute.” I don't know why I even tried to stop him, especially when I knew I really didn't want him to. I wanted his hands on me, his mouth. I always felt the connection between us, even in the mundane. Sitting on the couch watching a movie, I felt it. Holding his hand as he drove us to dinner, I felt it. Fighting with him about stupid shit, yeah, I felt it then too. I always felt it. There were invisible cords that tied us together and I loved feeling the pulling and tugging on them as we navigated through life together. But when we physically connected, everything was in Technicolor. His breath on my skin was a thousand feathers. His hand running along my thigh was a thousand hot and knowing hands, overwhelming and welcomed. He was the first person I ever let touch me, the only one to ever touch me. I knew I'd do anything to make sure that stayed true for the rest of my life.

  
“Caleb is with her and she'll never be able to find this room anyway,” he said between kisses on the soft tissue of my waist, his mouth skirted too close to the top of my shorts to allow my body to do anything but writhe underneath him. “Please,” he whispered against me asking permission, his nose inhaling me as it swept across my skin. I reached down and took his face in my hands and pulled him up to my mouth. Once our lips crashed together everything intensified and was frantic. His hands were no longer enough; his lips not giving me the relief I was searching for; the weight of him on top of me not heavy enough to keep me from floating away.

  
I tugged on the hem of his tee shirt, pulling it up over his head, and allowing him to do the same to me. At the sight of me in my bra I heard a groan escape from him before he came back down to kiss me senseless once again. This is how it was between us. There was always a line, and once we crossed it, there was no going back. There was inevitably some floodgate and once opened, everything came crashing through. Then, most of the time, it was a competition. Who could kiss the deepest? Who could make the other moan the loudest? Who could last the longest before they gave in to the pleasure? It wasn't a bad game to play, but it had gotten us into some tricky situations in the past. And I was well aware that I usually lost these battles. Asher and I had spent the last year exploring our sexuality with each other, and there was nothing about my body he wasn't absolutely and acutely tuned in to.

  
His hands moved down to the button of my jean shorts and he expertly pulled them open and slipped them off of me, not even leaving my panties behind. He was obviously in a hurry and who was I to slow him down? He leaned back onto his knees with his trademark smirk on his face. He knew he'd won the first silent contest; he'd gotten me to give in. He slowly unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down to his knees, then fell forward again onto his hands so he was hovering above me and I used my feet to push them the rest of the way off. He began his slow trail of kisses again, down my belly, choosing one leg to follow all the way to the knee, then made his way back up. All the while I reached behind my back, unclasped my bra and threw it to the floor wanting to be rid of it. As soon as my breasts were free from the lace, they were covered again by his hands.

  
Looking down at him, all I could see were his brown locks of hair and strong shoulders. His mouth was still working on my stomach and thighs, and now his hands were kneading my breasts feeling heavier by the minute. This was all very lovely, but it wasn't nearly enough.