Chapter 5
What the fuck?
What the … “Fuck,” I shouted as I blasted out of the parking lot. Was this running? Was I running from him, the moment, the kiss, the reality?
“Jesus, fucking, Christ.” I swiped a hand over my face, then through my hair, then against my leg.
How …
Why …
A red light forced me to stop, which was probably for the best. I didn’t need a speeding ticket or an accident to make this night even worse.
The rearview mirror held no one. No flashing lights or honking horns, no one followed me, but the tension in my shoulders wouldn’t get the message.
Home. Fucking Christ, just get home, and tomorrow, this will be nothing. Nothing. Tomorrow, you will wake from this nightmare.
Jesus … I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. I needed to clear my head so I could push this itching under my skin back where it belonged.
Denial had been my bread and butter for so long, I barely recalled my life without it.
I’d denied myself dreams, longings, the touch of a warm, masculine body in my arms, all in the hopes of keeping my sanity, of staying on the path my parents wanted and my family expected.
I was the oldest, the role model, the one to carry on the values and principles of the Dorset name.
In one fleeting moment, I’d unknowingly cracked all those carefully placed walls. Ten seconds, maybe less, and I’d demolished the exoskeleton of deceptions I’d cultivated over the years.
Fuck him.
Fuck Asher.
Jesus Christ.
How had I not known?
I’d kissed a man. A fucking man.
And it was as bad as I’d expected.
Well, no, not bad. Maybe devastating? Yeah, that was better.
The kiss had been devastating to the well-organized denial I’d lived with since I was a teenager. The door I’d bricked over, painted over, and shoved countless baggage in front of had resurfaced. Not only was it standing right in my face, but it was slightly ajar.
Asher. Not Ashley.
Fuck him.
Fuck him for what he did.
And also … Fuck me, Asher.
Not that I had time to replay every second between us and search for the clues I’d missed. Not that I had the willpower to mend the damage he’d caused. No, I had to scramble to put on the fake Luke, even as busted and bruised as he was, and face my parents for family fucking dinner tomorrow.
This time of year had never been my favorite.
Though I loved the many events to support various charities, it also meant more time around my parents than I would like.
However, I’d use the opportunity to reset myself, to reset my desires.
I’d be damned if I let one stupid kiss by one stupid and thoughtless child playing some sort of prank ruin all I had built.
By Sunday evening, I’d nearly forgotten what he smelled like, how his lips gave under mine, and how his hard frame hadn’t when I’d hugged him to me.
Dressed in my finest Brioni suit of charcoal gray as if it were armor, keeping me safe while I healed, I chose a bottle of Barolo from my collection and picked up a bouquet of yellow roses for Mother.
That nineteen-year-old fuck wouldn’t best me. I’d had a lifetime of gaslighting myself. I was a professional at this shit.
My parents’ mansion, situated at the edge of town, was lit with spotlights, highlighting the fall-themed wreaths in the windows.
Soon, those would be replaced with Christmas ones.
The long, circular drive was manned with a valet, and I handed over my keys, straightened my lapel, and made my way inside.
Father’s laughter greeted me as I walked through the open front door. Mother, wearing a floor-length dress in navy blue, was in the foyer, speaking with an older woman.
“Luke,” Mother gasped as if she hadn’t seen me in years. The woman she’d been speaking with smiled and nodded before heading farther into the house.
“For you,” I said as I held the roses toward her.
“Ah, my darling, how thoughtful.”
“What’s the occasion?” I asked as I gestured toward the conversations.
Mother circled her free arm around mine and turned us toward the noise. “Do I need an occasion?” She laughed lightly. Not softly. Nothing about my mother would I call soft.
Though we’d never had any reasons to hate each other, we’d never had any reasons for a great connection either. I kept everyone at a specific distance, and that included my family. They knew the me I gave them very well and knew the real me not at all.
Some may find that sad, but I had long settled into this life of mine. I didn’t mind it.
I didn’t.
With a deep breath, the reality of who I was and should be settled around me once again. Comfortable. Familiar.
The sitting room was packed with people. Nearly thirty, if I had to guess. Father was speaking with William, William’s father, and two others near the great hearth with amber drinks in hand. When I made to start in their direction, Mother clamped her hand around my elbow.
“Not so fast,” she tsked. “Your father can have you once I introduce you to a few people.”
I bit back a groan and dutifully smiled. “Of course, Mother.” Just because I knew my place didn’t mean I’d quite resigned myself to a loveless marriage to a woman, which was Mother’s sole focus these days.
Mother circled the room, keeping me leashed as she spoke with countless women. Only women. One of the ladies was the very same Mother had marched in my direction yesterday evening. The one I’d snubbed as I rushed to find a suitable diversion.
This was a planned ambush dressed in centerpieces and wine.
Instead of latching onto the significance of the setup as I should, Asher, once again, forced himself into my thoughts.
Try as I might, I couldn’t see a man dressed as a woman last night.
All I remembered were the highlights. His bright eyes painted in loud colors that weren’t garish, surprisingly.
The dress that had made him appear older than a fucking nineteen-year-old had any right to look.
Or maybe I wasn’t remembering that correctly either.
Those long legs, his easy smile, his deep chuckle that …
Okay, yeah, maybe that should’ve been a hint to the man beneath the appearance, but I hadn’t wanted to see it, had I?
Fuck. What am I doing?
“Luke, do you remember Georgina?” Mother said.
The woman in question appeared to be near my own age, but her bland expression was throwing me off. She didn’t have a single spark, nothing like Asher. Fucking Christ, he’d been a pretty woman.
“From the donation event last night,” I supplied smoothly. Mother had something up her sleeve. For too many years, I’d dodged her setups to not get an idea when one was coming.
“And beyond that,” Mother said. “Georgina went to school with you at Prewit Academy.”
I stared at the woman a little harder this time. My private school had been rather small, and I knew everyone in my own grade. It took a moment to run through the list of names and faces, and as I came to the conclusion that Georgina was not among them, Mother trilled again.
“A few years behind you. Well, what was it, four?” Mother glanced at Georgina.
Georgina’s smile was shaky at best before she nodded and mumbled confirmation.
God, but she was shy or uncomfortable. I should take pity on her and dominate the conversation as expected of a man.
I should put the woman at ease, should show her I was safe, but I couldn’t.
I was barely hanging in here on my own, so that drivel was lost tonight.
I needed someone to put me at ease. I wanted to be the one comforted, to be shown I was in good hands. As Asher had—
“Georgina’s mother is Sandra Barnett, the same Barnetts who own Barnett Industrial down south, and her father is Mayor Thompson.”
“Pleasant to formally make your acquaintance,” I said with a slight bow.
“Georgina was telling me the other night about a charity you participated in last year. She’s been dying to meet you ever since.”
I highly doubted that conversation had taken place.
If I had to guess, I’d say Georgina’s mother mentioned her attending, and the pair contrived to push this match.
The old money was there, and so was the pedigree.
Georgina was perfect in my mother’s eyes.
And though she might be attractive, she wasn’t as intriguing as Asher had been during a five-second encounter in a hallway outside the …
“Fuck me,” I mumbled.
Mother laughed, even as she pinched my arm. “What was that, dear?”
“Oh, my apologies. I just remembered a loose end I left at work.” I always had an excuse on hand, so the lie came easily.
Ash, Ashley, Asher, whoever, had been standing in front of the fucking men’s room when we first met. At the time, I’d assumed it was a simple mistake, and I’d caught her—him—just as she’d realized it. Fuck. Him. Him. Ashley was a fucking man.
Mother laughed again and this time placed a hand on Georgina’s arm.
“These men and their work. It’s good for them to have a strong, reliant woman at their side to make sure they remember their heads every morning.
” Mother laughed more. Georgina smiled and—tried to laugh?
How could Mother think Georgina and I would make a good match?
Or perhaps in Georgina, she found someone she could mold and control.
Regardless, I was done. “Excuse me, Mother.” I kissed her temple, then nodded to Georgina. “It was nice seeing you again.” I had to get away before the wrecked mess of my brain found a way to make a mess of everything else.
The wet bar called to me, and I pounded my feet across the hardwood to reach it, left the wine I still carried, and poured a scotch for myself.
Time. I needed time. The constructed life I’d made didn’t happen overnight. This setback was only that. I could survive this. I could remake my world the way it needed to be.
Did I want to?
Did it matter what I wanted?