Chapter 22
ASHER
I follow her. Of course, I follow her.
I’m right behind her as she runs out the door, and I grab her hand to stop her. She whirls on me, angry tears tracing down her cheeks, and her hair flies around her face, a few stray strands getting caught in the moisture.
I don’t know why I do it—pushing the lock of hair behind her ear. But touching her feels necessary, like breathing. Like I can’t bear not to.
Touching her, even as simply as my fingertips grazing the skin of her cheek, consumes me. It is the most exquisite kind of torture.
She flinches away from me, and something in my heart clenches.
She continues to march down the street, but then she grits her teeth and whirls on me.
“It’s not fair,” she cries, a tear escaping and running down her cheek.
I resist the urge to wipe it away, knowing that after her last reaction, it’ll just upset her more.
She takes a deep breath, gathering herself.
“You popping up everywhere, kissing me and flirting with me, just to shove me away later and tell me I’m a mistake?
That’s not fair, and you know it.” She angrily wipes at her cheeks, trying to scrub the tears away.
“We shouldn’t be seeing each other at all, even platonically, or pretending like because we just happen to stumble into each other, it’s okay, because it’s not okay.
The more I see of you, the harder it is for me to pretend like I don’t like you or enjoy your company!
” she exclaims, and my heart skips a hopeful beat.
“This isn’t fair, and it’s not okay,” she repeats as she runs a hand through her hair, frustration written all over her face.
She’s angry. Of course, she’s angry; she probably feels like I’ve been leading her on.
I’ve been acting like touching her is a cardinal sin, but it’s something that I can’t help doing.
I’ve been acting like it’s okay for me to see her outside of class and talk to her and flirt with her, and that it’s only wrong when we’re physical.
“You’re right, it’s not okay.” I nod. “I shouldn’t be giving you rides home, playing pool with you in bars, flirting with you.
I shouldn’t act as if those things are appropriate or innocent, because they aren’t.
I shouldn’t be jealous when other men flirt with you.
I shouldn’t kiss you, or touch you, but I just can’t fucking seem to stop myself. Consequences be damned.”
I stalk toward her, and she backs away until her back meets the brick behind her.
I can tell by the way her breath picks up, and her pupils dilate, that she’s not scared of me at all.
When she bites her lip and arches her back the tiniest bit against the wall, I can tell it’s taking everything in her not to give in.
I place my hands on either side of her, boxing her in. I inhale her perfume, vanilla and lavender, and I groan. “The things I want to do to you are completely inappropriate.”
“Like what?” she breathes.
“What?” I ask, unable to focus when she’s so close to me. I run my lips up the column of her neck, barely grazing her skin.
“What do you want to do to me?”
“I want a repeat of the other night,” I murmur against her skin.
“I want to do everything we’ve already done and more.
I want to make you come so hard that the only thing you remember is my name.
” I dip my finger into the low V of her dress, pulling her closer to me by the fabric so that our hips press flush together.
Her breath catches, and I let my lips run along her jawline. “What do you want me to do to you?”
“Everything,” she murmurs. I lean closer to her, wanting a kiss, but she shakes her head, our foreheads rubbing against each other. “We shouldn’t,” she sighs. “We’ve already made too many mistakes as it is.”
I can’t help but frown at her words. Maybe it’s not the smartest idea to pursue something serious with her, but I refuse to consider it a mistake. And I’m hoping with every cell in my body that, despite what she’s saying, she feels similar to me.
“We’re already too far gone,” I whisper before crashing my lips to hers.
The kiss only lasts one devastating second before Summer pushes me away from her. “I can’t keep doing this,” she sighs, sounding truly exhausted, making guilt settle deep in my stomach.
Elijah’s advice to be honest echoes in my mind.
What can it hurt? To lay myself open at her feet and give her the opportunity to ruin me.
“I don’t think this is a mistake,” I say, gesturing between us.
“I’ve never felt the way that I do when I’m around you.
That’s not something that I want to ignore any longer.
It’s not something I want to risk losing.
” I push her hair behind her ear. “Tell me you don’t feel the same way,” I murmur.
“Tell me that this isn’t something that comes around once in a lifetime.
Tell me you have no interest in seeing where this could go. ”
I don’t care if I sound like I’m begging. I want her. I want there to be an ‘us.’ I want there to be a relationship to fight for.
“I can’t tell you any of those things,” she says quietly.
“Why not?” I push.
“Because I’d be lying. To you and to myself.”
I take a deep, steadying breath, trying to calm myself and not show the excitement that’s coursing through my body. “I think that we’re both aware that we’ve crossed a line after the other night. A line that we can’t uncross.”
“So?” she exhales, exasperated, but I can see a small betraying glimmer of hope in her gaze.
“So why try?” I respond. Her eyes widen in shock at my words, and her lips part.
“I can’t stop thinking about you, Summer.
I dream about you. I can’t stop myself from staring at you and your damn skirts in class.
It takes everything in me not to fucking email you about some asinine issue with an assignment or call you just to talk when I want to hear your voice, or your laugh.
I want to invite you over. I want to see you outside of class.
And after the other night? Fuck,” I huff out.
“That completely ruined me. I can’t go back after that.
I want you. I want more than what we’ve been doing.
This isn’t just sex for me. It’s not about getting off.
And you’re right, you don’t deserve this back and forth.
And I don’t want to keep trying to push you away. ”
“What do you want?” she asks quietly.
“I want you to come home with me.” She doesn’t say anything, and I cup her face in my hands and let my forehead rest against hers. “Come home with me,” I beg.
“Okay,” she agrees, the stiffness dissipating from her shoulders. “Okay.”
Honestly, it surprises the hell out of me. We’ve both been fighting this thing for so long that I didn’t think there’d ever come a time when we both gave in before we’d even lost any clothing.
I tug on her hand and start to lead her toward my car. I want her home, naked, in my bed before she starts thinking too hard about the choices we’re making. I’ll convince her that we can make this work. Hell, if I could convince myself of that, surely I can convince her.