Restrictions (Sterling Family #2)

39. Asher

39

ASHER

T he rest of the trip was uneventful. More going through the motions bullshit that my family is fucking phenomenal at. Because we’re all dead inside—every single one of us. Even if they plaster a smile on their faces. Even if Lincoln and Penelope are doing their best to appear happy.

None of us are.

And they’ll never convince me otherwise.

Vivienne was quiet for the rest of the trip, soaking in the utter shitshow that is the Sterlings, I suppose.

It’s late when we get back to the house, and Baz is fast asleep when we climb out of the Uber. I carry him up to his bed and lay him down, the little guy barely moving as I tuck him in.

Viv lays a kiss to his temple, and we exit his room. Her eyes meet mine in the dim hallway, only lit by the moonlight filtering in from the window at the end of the hall. “Goodnight, Asher.”

I study her, slightly disappointed she isn’t coming with me, but I don’t allow myself to show any vulnerability.

“Goodnight, Viv.”

She turns and starts toward her bedroom, and my entire soul is yearning to go after her.

I scrub a hand over my face and try to talk myself out of doing that .

Don’t follow her.

Do not be her little bitch boy.

That’s not you.

I see her bedroom light turn on with the flick of her hand as she disappears inside.

Ah, fuck it.

I follow her into her room and close the door behind me, making sure to push the lock in. She turns to me, standing by her dresser, and it almost infuriates me how incredibly beautiful she is. “Asher.” Her voice seems strange. “I’m tired.”

I move near her, a smirk playing on my lips. “I don’t mind doing all the work.”

Her bottom lip folds under her teeth, and I feel victorious, knowing she wants me as bad as I want her. My body stalks hers, pressing flush against her as she faces the mirror above the dresser, her hands planted firmly on the oak top.

My mouth nuzzles her neck, my tongue darting out to get just a small taste, wanting every bit of her. Craving her.

“Asher . . .”

It’s a plea from her lips, but I don’t think she’s begging for what I want her to be asking from me. She spins around, now in my cage as I place a hand on each side of her.

“What is it?”

I hate how conflicted she appears, her lips quivering, and her eyes refuse to meet mine.

I reach one hand up from the dresser and sweep it across her face. “What’s going on?” Is there someone else? Does she want to date? Explore more dick? What the hell is going on?

I watch her elegant throat stretch tight as she lifts her eyes to meet mine, and that’s when I notice they’re glossy from tears that haven’t fallen.

My heartrate slows as I stare into her eyes, begging her to tell me what’s wrong. Also pleading with her not to because I don’t want to know.

“What’s. Wrong?” My voice is forceful because I can’t take it anymore.

Her voice is shaky, almost unrecognizable as she looks past me, not directly in the eyes. “I’m in love with you.”

What?

What the fuck did she just say?

I marinate on that simple sentence for what seems like an eternity as her watery eyes meet mine, and I feel like I'm dying. “You’re what?”

Her gaze stays trained on me now, her voice more confident. “I’m in love with you.”

I shake my head, taking a step back, releasing her from my cage and trying to inflate my lungs again. “No. You’re not.”

Her back remains against her solid dresser. “Yes. I am.”

Where the hell did this come from? We were doing fine. I study her and then a sick realization hits me. “My family.”

But which member of my family. Not really Linc’s style. He really only loved to fuck with Penelope. My mother doesn’t really pry.

My throat is dry as I answer my own question in a croak, “Lola.”

Her quick flinch tells me I guessed appropriately. “Asher...”

“No. Look, I don’t know what the fuck she said, but you do not love me.”

“I do.” She looks as broken as I feel because that’s it, and we both know it. If she thinks she loves me, it’s over.

I take a step back toward her, getting into her face, smelling her minty breath “No.”

“Asher...” It’s another gasp from between her pretty pink lips.

“Stop saying my name,” I growl, unable to take it.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t lying when we first...” Her eyes wander toward the bed and then back to me. “I really thought I could handle it.”

“And I told you, you couldn’t.” My voice is harsh along with my words, but I'm seeing red, knowing everything is fucked.

“I know.” I watch her chest rise with a deep breath, and I hate how weak and vulnerable her voice sounds. “I think you fell for me too.”

I swallow what tastes like bile, knowing I'm going to hurt her. “No. It’s not real. I told you this would get confusing. Fucking. Talking.” My eyes darken. “You kept insisting on talking.”

“We’re friends.”

“Exactly. We’re friends, but you and your fucking chick brain...” Fuck! I want to scream, but I don’t want to wake Baz. I point to my chest keeping my voice low. “You see a broken boy. One who you’re dying to fix. You think that you can offer your body to me and eventually lend an ear after we fuck, and then eventually, you’ll heal me.”

I see the pain I'm causing her, but I can’t allow myself to get sucked into this fantasy. “I think we could work.”

I shake my head, and I have to remind myself not to be too cruel. “Okay, Viv.” Her head tilts to the side, waiting for me to laugh or tell her it’s never going to happen, but instead I cup her jaw in my large hand, letting my thumb brush over her bottom lip. “Say we try this thing. A real relationship, commitment, love—the whole fucking thing.”

Her eyes watch mine, just waiting for the cruel reality because she’s not stupid. “I’m twenty, but sure, you want me to tell you I'm ready to settle down and commit to one woman for the rest of my life.”

She pushes my hand away. “No, I suppose you need to whore around for another ten years or so.”

“Probably.”

Her pretty eyes roll, and she doesn’t entertain a reply.

“Let’s get lost in the fantasy though, right?” She’s pissed, and I can’t lie, I love seeing the fire in her eyes as I lay out the fucked-up scenario. “Let’s say we commit. We become a couple. Get married.” My hand swipes over her flat stomach. “You pop out a couple more beautiful kids. And we’re really fucking happy.”

“Would that be so bad?”

I shake my head, staring at her pretty face. “Not at first. At first,” my lips brush over hers, “it would be bliss.”

I don’t kiss her. I resist the urge and look into her eyes. “It would be.”

“But then...” My voice is hoarse. “Then it wouldn’t be. Then I’d get bored. I’ll fucking stray, and you’ll know because I won’t even try to hide it. And instead of telling me to fuck off like you would right now because right now, you’re strong.” She’s so fucking strong, even if she doesn't know it. “Viv, you’ll go back to the old you after being worn down by me.” My fucking heart feels like it’s breaking into a million pieces inside my chest, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it because I keep going even when her breath hitches in her throat and I feel the pain I'm causing her. “You’ll try your best to make everything perfect. You’ll blame yourself for my affairs, thinking if you can be the perfect wife, I'll stay. I’ll fucking destroy you.”

She shakes her head, her hand covering her throat, and I know she’s trying to keep from crying because it all hurts too much. Because it’s true, the truth hurts. And I've never been more honest.

“You wouldn’t do that to me, Asher.”

“I’m a Sterling.” She looks away, rejecting my reasoning, and I take her chin in my hand and gently turn her to face me. “It’s what we do. We fucking pillage. We destroy the good.”

She shakes her head, and I offer her an example, one that stings just to think about.

“Colt was the best guy I ever knew, but he was a Sterling...” My forehead leans against hers as I breathe her in. “And he fucked you when he was dating and nearly engaged to Penelope.”

Her eyes lift to meet mine, and I lose the contact with the skin of her forehead. “You aren’t him.”

“He was better.”

She shakes her head and strokes my cheek with her hand. “It doesn’t have to happen that way. Penelope and Lincoln are happy.”

“For. Now.” I place my hand over hers that’s currently resting against my face. “I’ll shatter you into a million pieces, and then some other motherfucker will come and pick up the pieces. Putting you back together because I destroyed you.” A tear falls down her cheek, and she sniffles, and I close my eyes, leaning my forehead against hers again. “I don’t want to be your first husband.”

“I hate your honesty.”

I smile sadly. “No, you don’t.”

She takes a step back, wiping her cheek. “You’re right though. That story...” She swallows and looks sick. “That’s exactly my parents. My father loves to cheat, but my mother refuses to end it. Even though it seems like he’s been trying to get her to for years.” She laughs, but there’s no happiness. It’s not her usual light laugh I love. “We are so cliché. Rich kids with unhappy parents.”

I grasp her small shoulders. “We don’t have to be them.”

“So what now?”

I hate this. “I don’t know. I guess sex is out.”

My gaze lowers, scanning her body and then moving back up to her face, knowing how badly I'm going to miss her body. Her head nods. “Yes.” Her voice lowers, and she looks nervous. “Do you want to move out?”

The thought is terrifying to me. “Do you want me to?”

She shakes her head, and I feel slightly relieved. “No. Not at all.” She still looks anxious. “But can we just go back?”

My shoulders shrug. “Penelope left Lincoln for two years when the feelings got too intense.”

“I couldn’t be away from you for two years.” Her confession startles us both, but it makes me smile.

“I couldn’t either.” My hand smooths over her hair. “And I couldn’t be away from Baz for that long.”

She nods. “We can do this for him.” She nods again as if she’s trying to convince herself. “We can.”

“So just going back to friends?”

She takes a deep breath. “Yes. Who live together and take care of an adorable little toddler.”

I don’t want this.

I don’t think she does either, but we both know it’s the only way. We can’t continue to have sex when she has feelings for me that I can’t return.

“And it’s still your home...” I eye her suspiciously. “So if you have to have someone over?—”

“I won’t.” I cut her off. I won’t do that to her.

She puffs out a relieved breath through her luscious lips. “Okay. No bringing anyone else home?”

I nod my head. “Either of us.”

“Rules I can live with.”

My hand rests on her hip, and I bring her body closer to mine, I had intended to bring her into a hug, but instead our lower halves are pressed together, my body always wanting to be joined with hers. “One last time.” I breathe against her lips as I brush my mouth over her. missing the way she tastes already.

I feel her hands smooth over my chest, and I think just maybe she’ll grant me this. There’s a strangled cry in her throat as her lips press against mine and she breathes her answer against them. “I can’t.”

My eyes flutter closed as my chest clenches, missing her. My hand moves to the back of her head as I press my lips firmly against hers, begging her for one last kiss.

And her mouth rewards me by opening for me, her lips moving against mine in the most heartbreaking kiss I've ever experienced. Our mouths mingle and our tongues caress as her salty tears join in the mix and her sob enters my mouth, and I catch it, trying to kiss it away.

My hands tangle in her hair as she cries into our kiss, and it moves from a kiss into a hug where I wrap my arms around her, her face buried in my chest as she sobs and I try my best to comfort her.

To tell her we can make it through this.

But we both know it’s a lie.