Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Asher
I tug a shirt over my head, listening to the shower run in the bathroom.
The last few days have been a blur of phone calls with lawyers, my agent, and reps from the Aces, hammering out details of the contract offer.
Contract language, salary structure, performance bonuses, all the boring but necessary stuff that comes with signing a multi-year deal.
But I’ve still managed to spend every hour that’s not work stuff or dealing with my dad’s house with Kat.
Which is probably more hours than I should be spending with someone who’s supposed to be temporary.
I’m in her bedroom in the main cabin, and when I hear her humming in the shower, I can’t resist. The bathroom door is ajar, steam drifting out into the cooler air of the bedroom. The sound of running water mixes with her voice, some tune I don’t recognize but that sounds cheerful.
I slip inside quietly. “You’ve got a nice voice.”
She yelps, then laughs, water splashing. “God, I’m still not used to having someone around all the time. You scared the crap out of me.”
I tug the shower curtain back a little, grinning at the sight of her. Water streams down her body, soap suds sliding over her curves in ways that make my mouth go dry. “Do you want me to go?”
She meets my eyes through the gap in the curtain, her hair plastered to her head, water running down her face. “Now I didn’t say that.”
I chuckle and strip off my shirt, shoving down my boxers, my cock already getting hard just from looking at her. The shower is small, but we make it work, her body warm and slick against mine as I step in behind her. The spray hits my skin as I pull her back against me.
My hands roam over her, slippery with soap and water. The scent of her body wash fills the small space, that almond scent that I’m starting to associate only with her. When my fingers slip between her legs, she whines softly, probably still a bit sore from our morning sex.
I’m always hungry for her—ravenous, honestly—but I never want to push her too far or risk hurting her, so I drag my fingers away, pressing a kiss to her shoulder instead.
“Turn around.”
She does, water streaming between us, looking surprised when I reach for her shampoo bottle.
I squeeze some into my palm and lather up my hands, then start working my fingers through her dark hair.
She has to tilt her head back a little because of the height difference, and I’m careful to keep the soap out of her eyes.
I massage her scalp in slow circles, working the shampoo through from roots to ends. She moans softly, her eyes closing, her whole body relaxing under my hands.
“I’m trying to be good here, bright eyes,” I tell her, digging my fingers in a little harder at the base of her skull. “Give your pussy a break. But when you make sounds like that, it makes it really fucking hard.”
She laughs, the sound echoing off the tile. “Sorry. It feels so good though. You’re really good at that.”
“Years of washing my own hair. I’m a professional.”
She grins, eyes still closed as I keep working. I take my time with it, enjoying the feel of her hair between my fingers, the way she’s gone soft and pliant under my touch. This is almost as good as sex, in its own way. Just taking care of her. Making her feel good.
“Are you going to see your father today?” she asks after a moment.
“Yeah.” I start working the lather through the rest of her hair, making sure I get all of it.
“There’s not really much around the house that needs doing anymore.
I’ve fixed most of the stuff that was broken or needed attention.
But I’m thinking of trying to get him out today. Just to the park or something.”
“Why?”
“He keeps to himself a lot, seems like, even before the injury. But he’s been even more isolated with the cast. I don’t think he gets out much.”
“That’s nice of you.” She opens her eyes, looking up at me. Water catches on her lashes. “To think about that.”
I shrug, tilting her head back under the spray to rinse out the shampoo. The water runs clear after a few moments, carrying the suds down the drain. “I don’t know. It just seems like he’s pretty lonely out here.”
Her brows draw together, water droplets clinging to her soft skin. She’s quiet for a second, as if she’s choosing her words carefully.
“I know your dad really hurt you,” she finally says. “I get that. But maybe there’s a chance that all that messed up past doesn’t have to define the future. You know?”
I swallow, dropping my hands by my sides.
“I saw that clipping he had,” she continues. “In the mirror frame. About you signing with your first pro team. He’s clearly kept up on your life and career, at least a little. And he seems so happy to have you here. Is it possible he regrets what he did? Walking away all those years ago?”
The question sits in the space between us. I’ve been trying not to think about it too much, trying not to examine my dad’s motivations too closely. It’s easier to keep him at arm’s length, to maintain that wall I built years ago.
“A month ago, I wouldn’t have thought I’d ever repair anything with him,” I admit. “Wouldn’t have even wanted to try. But when you talk about it like that… I don’t know. It seems more possible.”
She kisses me, soft and sweet. Water runs between our lips, but neither of us pulls away as my hands caress her hips.
When we separate, she smiles up at me, echoing the words I said to her about Daniel’s engagement party. “Whatever you decide to do, I’ll have your back.”
The words shift something inside my chest, making me think briefly about her having my back for everything I do. For longer than just the next couple of weeks.
My chest goes tight. That familiar panic rises up, the one that always hits when I start thinking about forever with anyone. When I start imagining a future that extends beyond the carefully defined boundaries I’ve set up. I swallow, my thoughts tangling up, confused and conflicted.
Kat seems to realize she said something that sounded too real, crossing some invisible line. She laughs a bit awkwardly, the ease from a moment ago gone. “As long as I’m your fake girlfriend anyway.”
I chuckle, trying to brush it off, but it doesn’t quite clear the knot in my throat. I kiss her again, not liking that flash of doubt I saw in her eyes. Not liking to think about her being hurt because of me, because I can’t give her what she deserves.
But I still don’t think I can. Still don’t know if I’m built for that.
We finish showering in silence, the mood having shifted slightly.
As we’re getting dressed, I ask what she’s doing today.
As busy as I’ve been with my own contract negotiations, she’s been just as busy, hammering out details of her book project, talking with the publisher’s team about timelines and expectations.
I’m so fucking proud of her, of how she’s handling this opportunity.
She tells me about some sketches she wants to work on today, color tests she needs to do to figure out the right palette for autumn scenes. Technical stuff that I don’t fully understand but love hearing her explain.
I kiss her goodbye once we’re both dressed, then head out across the snowy space to the guest house to grab my keys.
Less than half an hour later, I pull up at Edward’s place. When I knock, he opens the door with his usual cautious greeting. He’s getting better at moving around with the boot, more confident on the crutches. Murphy appears immediately, winding around my legs and purring plaintively.
“Hey, big guy.” I crouch down to give him the attention he’s demanding. He butts his head against my hand, rubbing his face on my knuckles.
“He’s been sitting by the door for an hour,” Edward says, watching with amusement. “I think he was hoping for a visit from you today.”
I scratch behind Murphy’s ears, earning an even louder purr. “So damn needy,” I mutter, but there’s affection in my voice.
“So…” Edward steps back to let me in. “What’s on the agenda today?”
He starts to lead me inside, but I clear my throat, stopping him before he gets too far. “Actually, I was thinking we could go to the park. If you’re up for it. You know, get you out of the house for a bit.”
He looks surprised, like he didn’t expect me to suggest just hanging out with no specific task attached. No repair to make, no problem to solve. Just spending time together.
“That sounds fun,” he says after a moment. “Let me grab my coat.”
We end up on a bench at the small park in the middle of town. It’s cold but not unbearable, and the sun is out, making everything bright. It’s surprisingly peaceful, sitting side by side with my father as we watch people walk by—but my mind keeps drifting back to that moment with Kat in the shower.
Edward glances at me after a while, his expression thoughtful. “You seem like you’ve got a lot on your mind today.”
I hesitate. Fuck, I don’t know how to talk about this with him.
Don’t know how to voice what’s been churning through my head without admitting things I’m not ready to admit.
Part of the reason I don’t trust people, part of the reason I built these walls in the first place, is sitting right next to me.
“Just a lot going on,” I say finally, keeping it vague.
“Problems with the Aces contract?”
“No, that’s moving along well. Looking good, actually.” I rub the back of my neck. “Should be finalized soon.”
He frowns slightly, his thick brows tilting downward. “It’s not about Kat, is it?”
I chew my lip. He’s guessed right, and I don’t know whether to deny it or lean into it.
“What’s wrong?” He rests one elbow on the back of the bench. “You two seem good together.”
“Nothing’s wrong. Things are great.”
And they truly are. Better than I expected, better than I know how to handle. I fall silent for a long moment, the question I want to ask sitting heavy on my tongue. The thing I’ve been turning over in my mind for days now.
“How do you know if it’s real?” I finally ask, my voice low.
Edward considers that for a long moment, his gaze distant. Probably thinking about my mom, about whatever they had before it all fell apart.
Then he says simply, “When their happiness matters more than your own.”
His response makes me think about my fears, my deep-rooted terror of giving my heart to someone who won’t care about it. Who would never put my happiness first. Who would use it against me or walk away without a second thought.
I frown, lost in thought, my mind spinning—but then my phone rings, jarring me out of it. When I dig it out of my pocket, Kat’s name flashes on the screen and my heart leaps a little at the sight.
I tap the screen to answer quickly, a smile already tugging at my lips. “Hey, what’s—”
“Asher.” She cuts me off, and everything in me goes cold, the smile dissolving from my features. Her voice is nothing like the easy tone from this morning, strained with panic and pain. “I need help.”