Maybe Once, Maybe Twice(101)

“I don’t want to hear how you ran to someone else, unless this is your way of trying to tell me that you don’t want to be with me—in which case, please spare me the details.”

He said it forcefully, looking directly into my eyes, and it took my breath away. It was a long moment before I was able to speak again—to navigate past the tears so I could tell him how badly I never wanted to hurt him again.

“Asher…nothing happened. I promise.”

His entire body exhaled, and he put his hand on his throat, tugging at the chain around his neck.

“Well shit, maybe you could have led with that.”

“I’m sorry. I—I ran somewhere else, but I want to be here. And stay here. I want to be with you.”

“Are you sure? Because you and I—somehow, we just picked up where we left off, and I didn’t venture to ask if you were ready for that. Maybe I was na?ve to think you were in this the way I was, and that’s not your fault.”

I shook my head effusively.

“You weren’t na?ve. I ran to the wrong person, but I needed to—I needed to close a door. You know me, I suck at lying to you, and I’m not lying when I say I’m all in on this. On us.”

He took a step forward, slowly.

“If you need to get something off your chest the next time your world is turning upside down, and you can’t do it here, with me, I want you to tell me. This needs to end if I’m not the arms you want to run into—if I’m not your person.”

“You’re my person,” I said, with tears running down my cheeks.

He hesitated, staring at all sides of my wet face.

“Well…can your person hold you already?”

I nodded through a sea of tears, and Asher took me into his arms, wrapping them tightly around me.

I wasn’t sure I deserved him in this moment. I felt immense guilt for letting Garrett hold me earlier, and I would try like hell to make it up to Asher.

After a long while, I dried my tears and we ordered some food, both of us exhaling our shitty night over Chinese takeout on the shag carpet as When Harry Met Sally played softly in the background. He paused the movie and turned his attention toward me.

“Look, I know I can’t make your past go away, but really: How can I help?”

Asher held up his phone. “Do you want to try and call Bex? Do you want me to? He called me pretty confused this morning.”

“He did?”

“I think he felt like you were toying with options from two different producers—but clearly that’s not the case. I know he would direct his anger toward the real monster if he knew the full story.”

I finished swallowing a crispy vegetable roll and paused to draw in air, exhaling deeply.

“Don’t call him. I don’t want Bex to know about any of this. Not yet.”

I grabbed my phone off the coffee table. I could feel my spine rebuilding itself, I could feel the heartbreak of a man taking hold of my career turn into white-hot fury. Sometimes, clinging to anger isn’t the poisonous venom people make it out to be.

“Who are you calling?” Asher asked.

“Raini.”

“Raini?”

I nodded, and as I went to dial her number, I froze. I slowly looked up at Asher, my face softening as I locked eyes with him.

“Thank you,” I said.

“What for?”

“For—for showing mercy when you didn’t need to. For being here for me. I…I really love you,” I said, my lips staying open in the awe of it all.

And I did. I loved him fully.

His eyes didn’t leave mine. “I don’t think I ever stopped loving you,” he said, super casually.

“Well that’s cool,” I said through a teary smile.

A soft grin found his chiseled face. I exhaled again, grateful to be able to give all of my heart to the person who could give me all of his—to the person who I could share a lifetime of hopes and dreams with.





52

SEVENTEEN




MY NAKED LIMBS WERE FOLDED between Asher’s as we lay on the dock over the sleepy lake, with just a large terry cloth towel covering our bodies. My finger traced the tiny white scar on his chin, slowly, as if I were memorizing his lifeless body before the cops took him away. I let my fingers go to the tattoo on his biceps, raw and wrapped in a clear bandage. There was wild romance in the air. There was death in the air, too. Goodbyes can be complicated.

It was our final night at camp, the night before we were about to go home and then head to separate coasts for colleges.

“Remember that promise we made?” I whispered, burying my face in the curve of his neck, breathing in salt, musk, and sunblock.

“Of course.”

He held me tighter, arms around my back, my breasts on his damp torso.

“Promise me,” I said.

“Mags, I don’t want to live in a world where I would have lost you,” he said.

“Just promise me. If we’re thirty-five…” I trailed off, choking back the reality that I was begging him to save me from a lonely future. Wanting security from another person was pitiful. I was pitiful.

“Hey”—Asher took my chin in his fingers and lifted my face up to his—“I promise. Heck, I’ll show up at your door with a ring.”