Chapter 22 #2
I cross my arms and give her a caught you smile. “Adrienne. Where’s Paul?” I ask her.
“I—I was going to tell you after winter break,” she stammers out.
“Let’s leave.” Miles puts his arm to her waist to lead her out. I try to grab onto his jacket but Asher catches my hand.
“You won’t get away with it, any of it!” People turn to look at me, the crazy girl yelling in a gallery. “They’re leaving—we need to follow him,” I say to Asher.
“No.” Asher hangs on to my wrist. “What did he say?”
“He . . .” But the conversation begins to float out of my mind like ashes from a fire. I try to grab onto the pieces. “I think
he admitted to it, but then he was confused. And wanted my permission for something. Oh my god,” I say. “I think he was talking
about permission to date Adrienne.”
“So . . . he wasn’t talking about the murders?” Asher asks.
“I—I don’t think so but it happened so fast. I did tell him the police are onto him.”
“Let’s hope that’s enough for him to leave Graham alone until we can get a solid confession.” I let out a long, shaky breath,
feeling a headache coming on as the adrenaline leaves my system. Now also very unsure about whether or not Miles is the one
behind it all. “Speaking of Graham,” Asher says. “You’re never going to guess who his guest is tonight.” He ushers me around
the wall and back into the crowd toward Ty, Austin, and . . . Graham.
“Sloane!” Austin waves us over. “This is the guy I’m seeing, Graham. This is his opening.”
My mouth drops open as I take in Graham and Austin side by side. Graham’s eyes widen when he sees me, just like Holland’s.
Surprises all around. He opens his mouth but I stick out my hand before he can say anything.
“Sloane Sawyer,” I introduce myself. My hand is still shaking from my encounter with Miles.
Graham catches on and takes my hand. “Graham Monterra. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Your work is . . .” I look around, trying to find a word, any word. Just pick a word, Sloane. “Good.” Good? I want to be a writer and the best I can come up with is good.
“You think so? Thanks. Someone once told me it was a collection of half-assed trash that would fail to evoke emotion from
even the simplest of creatures and looks to be painted with all the sophistication of a toothbrush.”
Now that was the best I could come up with. I’m surprised he remembers it word for word.
Austin’s face scrunches up in disgust. “What raggedy jealous bitch said that to you?”
Graham only looks at me and I’m preparing to be outed for my words. “I can’t remember,” he says. “But at the time I think
I deserved it. And I never got to tell that person that I was sorry.”
I blink at him. “I’m sure whoever it was . . . would say that all is forgiven.”
Graham gives a nod of understanding before someone is pulling him away for a sale. Ty and Austin go to the bar and Asher puts
a well-placed hand on my waist to steer me away. I remove his hand.
“Boundaries,” I remind him.
We walk around the gallery and my head spins with not only the conversation with Miles but the one with Graham.
“So how does it feel?” Asher asks.
But I don’t know what he’s referencing at this point. So I ask, “How does what feel?”
“Graham’s into men now,” he says. “Do you think it was sex with you that made him switch sides?”
I swat his arm, hard. “He’s always been bi, you jerk.”
Asher laughs. “So what happened, then? How did he end up in your journal?”
“You remember that big bonfire we had at the end of sophomore year?”
“Yeah . . .”
“We were burning one of his paintings.”
Asher frowns. “Painting of what?”
“For Graham’s senior show he showcased the human form. The naked human form. Mine and many others. Out on display for all
to see.”
Asher nearly chokes on his champagne. “You’re telling me there was a painting of you naked and we burned it?”
“Yep. You couldn’t see my face, but I knew it was me. I totally freaked out at the show. I didn’t have enough money to buy
it so I called Annica and Dani, and then Wes. The four of us scrounged up enough and I took it home that night and we lit
it on fire.”
“Huh,” he says, considering. “What a shame. I bet that would be worth a lot of money someday.”
“Well, it’s not about the money; it’s about my dignity,” I say. “My virtue.”
“Because you have plenty of that,” he murmurs.
I resist the urge to hit him again. “Imagine someone taking a naked picture of you and posting it everywhere. How would that
feel?”
“Feels like I’d become very popular.” He smirks, and I get a flutter in my lower stomach at the thought of him naked.
“Well, I didn’t like it. Not to mention there were like twenty other naked bodies in his opening, so I wasn’t even special.” I shake my head at the thought. I’ve never felt more exposed or embarrassed in my life. Which is saying a lot after dating Bryce.
“Hey, lovebirds.” Ty comes up, interrupting. “We’re all invited to Graham’s after-party when the opening is over. I think
me and Austin are going to leave now to grab a bite and freshen up, maybe change into something else. Want to come?”
I hesitantly look over at Asher. Miles is gone, but who’s to say he won’t come back? Though I guess there’s not much he can
do in a gallery full of people, and if he was smart he’d be hightailing it back to Ivy Gate right now.
“Okay,” I say. “Yeah.”
We pile into an Uber with Ty, Austin, and Graham’s brother.
“This is Laken. He’s catching a ride with us,” Austin says. When the car pulls up Laken sits up front, which leaves us four
for the back.
“And you didn’t call an XL?” I ask.
“Just sit on your boyfriend’s lap.” Austin waves a hand like it’s no big deal. Which for any other real couple it wouldn’t
be.
Asher puts me on his lap and I do my best to sit upright to not touch him any more than I have to, but in the city traffic,
the car feels like it’s not even moving. I give in and lean my back and head against his chest, and I hear him take in a long
breath like he’s savoring the scent of me. His hands around my waist tighten and I know we’re both thinking of the hot tub
and that damn Nervous game.
I debate asking Ty where she’s staying tonight and if I can join her, but the way she and Graham’s brother are getting on
I feel she may already have someone sharing her bed.
We stop at a pizza place for an hour or so to eat.
“Where are you guys staying?” Ty asks me.
“The Four Seasons,” I reply.
“Rub it in, why don’t you,” Austin says. “We’re cramming four people into Graham’s studio apartment. His stove is next to
his bed. When he cooked for us this morning the bacon grease was literally hitting me in the face. It just wasn’t what I meant
when I said I wanted breakfast in bed.”
“We have room for two more,” I offer.
“No we don’t,” Asher says, giving me a look. I know that look.
“We do,” I say again.
“I’m not opposed,” Ty says. “We can stop at Graham’s to change and go to the hotel to freshen up and pregame.”
I smile. “Great idea.”
Ty whistles at the room. “You’re right, I think we could all fit in here. And then some.” She heads for the bathroom and Austin
goes to the minibar.
“Do you think they charge for this stuff?” Austin asks, opening the vodka.
Asher opens his mouth to say yes but only purses his lips and sighs. I go into the bedroom and Asher follows me in with his
bag.
“I need to change,” I say.
He digs through his bag and looks up at me. “Okay?”
“Boundaries, Asher, boundaries,” I remind him again as I sit at the end of the bed trying to get the clasp of the heels. I
hear Ty yell out that the Uber will be here in seven minutes. So much for a pregame, I think as I struggle with the heels.
Asher comes around the bed with a sigh and kneels on the floor before me, working on the shoe.
Ty then yells out that they’re going to the lobby.
Asher gets the first heel off, then works on unclasping the other. In my head this is romantic. In my head he takes his time.
He slides off the heel, but his other hand stays on my leg, and his mouth presses slow kisses all the way up my leg until—
“What?” he asks, breaking me from the daydream, and I realize I am staring down at him.
“What? Nothing. Let’s . . . We need to hurry.” I stand, reaching up the back of the dress, trying to get at the zipper. “I
can’t get this.”
“How do you manage to undress yourself when no one is around?” he says sarcastically as I turn around so he can get it. “It’s
stuck.” He yanks on the unmoving zipper.
“Pull harder.”
He gives it one hard pull and I hear a pop as the zipper breaks. “Well . . .” He trails off.
“Okay, no problem, I’ll just . . . pull it up, then.” I grab at the bottom hem and start to pull it up but it’s tight and
I realize halfway up that I can’t get it over my chest and head without help. “Go get Ty,” I say uncomfortably.
“She’s probably in the Uber by now. I’ll just do it,” he says.
“I don’t want you to do it,” I argue back, because I don’t have a bra on under this tight dress that I feel like I’m now suffocating
in.
Asher stands back and crosses his arms. “I’m not calling her for this.”
“Then I just won’t go.” I attempt to throw up my arms, but they’re already stuck in an upward motion. He tries to hold back
a laugh because we both know if he doesn’t help me then I’m stuck like this.
“Stubborn,” he mutters.
“Fine, just . . . make it quick. And don’t look.” I put my arms up straight so he can pull it the rest of the way over my
head. He rips the dress from me, up and over my head in one swift move. I lose my balance, grabbing onto him for support,
and he catches me around my bare back. He looks down and I bring up my other arm to cover my chest. His eyes darken and I
suck in a breath.
In my head he kisses me then, and it takes me by surprise—but no, this isn’t in my head, this is happening. He lets go of
me, breaking the kiss, and grabs my phone from the bed, tossing it at me.
“Tell your friend we’re not going.”
“What?” I say, a little breathless. He doesn’t need to repeat himself as he takes off his sweater. I fumble with my phone,
texting Ty to head there without us and we’ll meet them.
Asher kneels down in front of me again, digging his fingers into the waistline of my tights and rolling them down slowly.
Ty only sends me back a winky face as Asher starts kissing up my thighs.
“Boundaries,” I breathe, saying it more to myself than him.
“Then tell me to stop,” he says, looking up at me. But stop suddenly feels like a word I never learned. I wouldn’t know how to pronounce it if I tried. He takes my silence for what it
is and stands again, starting to unbuckle his pants, staring at me. “I don’t know what you’ve done to me.” He takes the belt
off, tossing it on the ground. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. When I’m with another girl, I’m wishing they were you.
I can’t focus, I can barely sleep.” His pants are off and I can see his erection bulging through his boxers and I’m practically
panting. “And I don’t even know why,” he continues, “because all we do is fucking fight.”
He backs me up to the bed before lifting me up and laying me down.
He kisses me, hard, and my hips instinctively move up to meet his.
I slide a hand down to palm him through his boxers and he moans in my mouth.
He kisses down my body, his fingers roaming around my inner thighs, until he reaches my chest. He bites down on my nipple as he slides a finger through me, earning a cry from me at the mix of pleasure and pain, and I think I may be way in over my head with him.
His mouth continues down, down, down, until his tongue replaces his fingers and he makes a noise like he’s drinking water for the first time after being lost in the desert.
It doesn’t take me long, not long at all, when his tongue is flicking over that sensitive bundle of nerves at my core. I see
stars and I say his name over and over, as the orgasm rips through me. He doesn’t let up until I go thoroughly limp beneath
him. He crawls back up and I pull his mouth to mine. When we roll over so that he’s on his back, he flinches.
“Ow, fuck,” Asher curses, and sits upright, holding me on his lap. He pulls back the covers and there in the middle of the
bed is a small black gun. We both stare at it, our breaths rising and falling in tandem. “Did you bring a gun here?” he says
finally, bedroom eyes replaced with concern.
“No, did you?”
“No.”
I suck in a breath. Graham.