CHAPTER 15
Asher
LATE JUNE
P
You have to call me, son.
I look away from my phone to glance up at Nash as he lines up his horseshoe shot.
This is the third time my uncle Pete has messaged me in the last two weeks.
Twenty-six months I made it with no contact from New York or my family, but my past life always seems to creep out of the woodwork when I least expect it.
ME
There is nothing I’m interested in discussing, Pete.
P
Your father is sick.
This isn’t news. My father’s been sick for twenty years. Side effects from too much daily whiskey and whatever his drug of choice is.
ME
Not my problem.
I set my phone down on the picnic table I’m sitting at, pushing Pete from my mind. He was told never to contact me, but a condition of helping me get out of my father’s world was giving him a point of contact.
Nash tosses his horseshoe after all the buildup of planning his shot and lands it perfectly as he lets out a little “fuck yeah.”
He’s in his element: shorts, flip-flops, his cap facing backward.
His brow is furrowed, deep in concentration, playing against Haden at Benny’s Backyard BBQ.
“Mama Tried” by Merle Haggard plays over the sound system and the air is both festive and casual.
We’ve been here a few times; it’s a cool place by the lake, on the beach, with a food truck– style take-out restaurant that serves ribs, wings, and burgers in white paper boxes with their logo stamped on top.
It’s no-frills, but out behind the truck there’s a large grassy area with string lights hung up between wooden posts.
Multiple picnic tables form a U around a gaming area with cornhole and horseshoe toss.
Where the grass ends the sand begins, and there are nets set up right on the beach beyond for volleyball.
It’s the perfect place to ride my Harley to and hang out for an afternoon with a beer and some good grub.
“You overstepped the line!” Haden barks out as Nash lands yet another perfect shot.
“Nah, take the loss.” Nash chuckles, flexing his arm. Haden takes a sip of his beer and shakes his head.
“I’ll only let you get away with it because you’re a married man now.” Haden points his beer at Nash and grins. “That tossing hand’s getting a little more of a workout these days, I’m guessing.”
“Whatever gets you through the day, bud,” Nash responds. “But for the record, pregnant women are wild.”
“Fuuuck, just no,” Wade bites out, taking a sip of his beer.
“Sorry.” Nash shrugs. “At some point you gotta get over it.”
“Nope,” Cole warns from beside me.
My phone buzzes on the table and I expect to see another message from my uncle. I’m wrong.
LIVI GIRL
Shane says my demo is almost done! Thank you for recommending him.
Having her contact as “Oblivia” didn’t seem right anymore after the night we had. The night that absolutely fucked with my head.
ME
Heard that. Great news, Liv.
I don’t mean to be cold with her. It’s been almost four weeks since we left the bathroom stall at the wedding after the hottest sex I’ve had in …
fuck, as long as I can remember. Maybe ever.
We both stayed and celebrated through the night with our friends, and every time I thought about how I was dripping down her thighs, it turned me into a man crazed.
She left with Jo, taking a ride home to the ranch like nothing had happened, and we’ve barely spoken since.
It was exactly what we agreed to: one night, no strings.
But I can’t get her off my mind. There’s just something about the goodness in her.
That light with a desire for the dark that brings out this raw need in me—to protect her, to be with her, to own her the way she’s owned my every thought for weeks.
“You know, I’ve known you for two years—
” Nash says now, taking a seat across from me.
“Double or nothin’,” Haden interjects, sitting down beside him and picking up a wing from his plate. “But first I gotta eat.”
Nash nods to him. “Let me know when you’re ready for another beating.”
“Bite me,” Haden mumbles jokingly around his wing.
“Where was I?” Nash looks at me. “Right, two years I’ve known you.” He picks up a wing and points at my phone with it. “And never have I seen you look worried or stressed for more than one second. What gives?”
I shrug as I set down my phone and continue eating my rack of ribs. “No idea what you mean.”
“Working all that OT got you worn out?”
“Being married has made Nash more in touch with his feelings,” Wade pipes up as he dips a fry in ketchup.
I chuckle and swallow my bite.
“Well, when I’m looking for advice, I’ll be sure to call the four of you first.” I look to Nash. “But yeah, man. I’m feeling pretty burnt out.”
“Sure it has nothing to do with the way you were looking at a certain redhead at my wedding?” Cole grins as he sips his beer.
I shake my head.
“Cassie said she thought someone was going at it in the bathroom and, funny enough, you and Liv were the only ones there before us.” Haden grins. Fuckin’ smug prick.
I say nothing.
“I had a friend like that once.” Cole shakes his head and smiles wider. “Friends like that? They fucking sneak up on ya.”
“Good to know,” I grit out. I’m not about to explain anything to these nosey fuckers.
“As long as whoever was in that bathroom wasn’t anyone’s sister, I’m good. I don’t know if I can take any more of that drama,” Wade adds before he stands and pats his brother on the shoulder. “Let’s go. Cornhole time.”
“As much as I’d love to keep yapping about Asher’s friend he doesn’t seem to want to talk about”—Cole stands and interlocks his hands, stretching them out in front of him—“time to start tossing bags and taking names.”
“That comment made me uncomfortable.” Haden chuckles. “I thought it was a- maiz -ing,” Nash says with a smirk. “Fucking morons,” Wade huffs as he heads to the center of the grass with his beer. “No wonder you’re looking for new friends.”
“You off on the Fourth?” Nash asks as he sips his beer once we’re the only ones left at the table.
“Off but on call.”
“You should come over. We’re doing a big barbeque at the ranch. Bring the Black brothers too, we’ll play some footy.”
I should say no. I know Olivia will be there, and the best thing for both of us is if I just stay away from her. But I’m a fucking sucker for punishment so instead I nod in agreement, understanding that, when it comes to this woman, I always seem to act before I think.