33. Asher
33
ASHER
“ I ’m an airplane!” I laugh as I hold Baz above my head and fly him around the living room. Viv walks in, toys in hand probably from other areas of the house, and she tosses them into the cloth basket where she stores toys in here.
“You know it’s bedtime?”
Baz pouts and shakes his head, still in my arms. “No. I airplane.”
Viv sighs, tilting her head with a smile, looking at me for support. I lower Baz to the ground, letting his little feet plant on the carpet. “Come on, airplane. Time to go get washed up.”
He grabs my hand. “You do it.”
I look over to Viv, asking for silent permission, and she nods. I take him upstairs and give him a bath before changing him into pajamas and tucking him in.
Viv comes upstairs, and we both put him to bed. I try like hell not to obsess about how much it feels like we’re a couple.
I feel everything getting hazy. Being an uncle to Baz, a friend to Viv, a casual fuck for Viv, a grieving brother who wants to be here for the family he left behind. It’s all getting blurred, and lines are being crossed.
And still... I don’t tell Viv I want to stop.
Because I don’t want to.
We sneak downstairs and sit on the sofa in the living room, her legs over my lap, completely comfortable with one another. “I have to talk to you.”
Shit. Fuck.
Is this the part where she wants to be a real couple? That she has feelings for me? Is this where I break her?
I lean over and nibble on her neck, trying to hide my fear. “I thought we said no more talking.”
She pushes me back, her hand staying on my chest. “Relax. We need to talk about Thanksgiving.”
Relief washes over me, and I settle back into the couch, propping my feet up on the coffee table. “Football and turkey? Okay.”
She laughs, and it’s beautiful. “Your mom called me this morning. She isn’t hosting this year.”
That’s weird. My mom loves the holidays. At least that was always the show she put on. “She isn’t?”
I turn to look at Viv, who shakes her head slowly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “No. Penelope and Lincoln are.”
Bile rises, and I feel like I’m going to be sick, but I stay still, looking at Viv’s pretty face. “Why?”
“I don’t know really.” Clearly, I’m not doing a good job appearing to be calm because she pulls her legs off of my lap and pulls them to her chest, looking at me. “She didn’t say. Just said they were having it at their house in California.”
“I’m not going.”
“Asher . . .”
I stand up and start toward the stairs, not wanting to talk about it, begging her not to follow me. But she’s a pain in the ass, so, of course, she does, stopping me before I even reach the first step, grabbing my arm and turning me toward her. “Talk to me.”
My jaw ticks and my heart races. “I’m not going all the way to California to watch Linc and Penelope act like the fucking perfect couple.”
“I don’t think that’s what they’re trying to do.”
“No? Thanksgiving? Really?”
“Why are you so angry?” I know she doesn’t understand. She can’t.
“I’m going to bed. I’m not going, though.”
I can see her getting frustrated, and I don’t blame her. She’s right, if I want to be inside her, I should respect her enough not to be a dick. But I’m a fucking dick by nature, so it isn’t easy. “Sebastian and I are going. Nora and Tony are going. Lola will be there. Your whole family will be there.”
“Not everyone.”
Her eyes show understanding, and I flee because I don’t want to do this. I fly down the stairs, angry and pissed-off at the thought of Penelope and Linc playing house in their perfect little world.
Everyone sitting around the table saying what they’re grateful for. All pretending like Colt never existed. No.
I reach my room, stripping out of my shirt and jeans and finding my black shorts, pulling them on just as Vivienne stands in my doorway. Her arms are folded as she leans against the doorframe. “I’m sorry.”
What? I stare at her, dumbfounded. “Why are you sorry?”
“Because I’m sure it’s really hard. Every single holiday without him.”
I swallow and sit on the edge of my bed, my knees weak. “Don’t.”
Her eyes roll, and she drops her arms to her side. “Don’t what? Empathize? Care?” She walks to the bed, standing in front of me between my parted legs, one hand brushing through my hair. “Too late.”
I close my eyes, and then slowly open them as I look up at her. “Penelope was Colt’s. And now...”
She doesn’t say a word. She just lets her hand fall from my hair and cups the back of my neck.
“I don’t want to watch them together. They’re together. Fine.” It’s not fine. “But I don’t have to watch it.”
“Sebastian will be heartbroken if you aren’t there.”
I cock my head to the side. “That’s dirty.”
She laughs, and her hand moves to my shoulder as she squeezes gently. “No. It’s just true. But if you don’t want to go, I understand. I do.”
“But he won’t.”
“He’s spent every Thanksgiving since he could eat the food with you. He lives with you. He is going to be upset.”
I would think most people were trying to manipulate me into doing what they want, but with Viv... I know without a doubt she’s just concerned about her son. He’s always her number one priority. I’ve never seen a better parent than her. “I don’t want that. ”
“I know you don’t. And I don’t want you to miss out on being with your family.” Her fingers stroke my cheek. “They miss you.”
My throat is dry, and I think about the last Thanksgiving we all spent together. All. My dad on his phone the entire time, shouting at someone who worked for him, surely ruining their Thanksgiving. Lola was ready to leave the moment she stepped in the door. Linc was pissy as usual. I was high from the weed I’d smoked in my bedroom right before dinner. My mom was buzzing around, trying her damnedest to make everything appear perfect. Colt and Penelope were sitting across from me with their hands in each other’s under the table. I know that because I dropped my fork and bent down to pick it up, their affection for each other making me sick at the time.
They were the golden couple.
He loved her, and how everything went so fucking sideways, I’ll never know. Because I didn’t ask questions. I was in my own world. Knowing I would never be like him. Knowing I never wanted to be like my parents. Accepting I was most like Linc.
“I can’t do it, Viv. I can’t.”
She’s trying to understand. “Because it will be at their house?”
I spent Thanksgiving with them last year and the year before that when my mom hosted. That’s why she’s so confused. “Yes.”
Their house. The two words make me sick.
She sighs and sits next to me on the bed. “Think about it. We’ll be there too.” Her voice is quieter now. “I’ll be there.”
I close my eyes again and lay back on the bed, covering my eyes and groaning in frustration. “Fuck!”
I feel her body join mine. “I can’t stand the thought of you staying here while we’re all there. But I can’t resist the need for Baz to have Thanksgiving with all of his family—the kind people who should hate me but have accepted me.”
I groan again. “Fine.”
“Don’t just agree. Think about it.”
I drop my hands and turn to her. “Only if we fuck in their pool.”
She doesn’t look horrified, just looks me straight in the eyes, a smirk playing on her pink lips. “You know they’ve probably done that, right?”
I grimace. “Gross.”
She laughs and scoots closer to me, her lips sliding over my neck and her teeth scraping over my jaw. “But I’ll fuck you anywhere you choose while we’re there. As long as Baz is asleep.”
I think about it, already knowing I’m going and taking full advantage of making an agreement with her. “Deal.”
Her small body climbs on mine, and her lips crush against mine, not wasting any more time with talking. Still, in the back of my mind, I know, without a doubt,...
This isn’t going to go well.