CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Kaia
Recordando al grande.
Sergio Williams: un antes y un después en el deporte espanol.
Onscreen, a handsome man smiled from a photo on a Spanish racing site, helmet tucked under his arm. His brown eyes and messy dark hair reminded me of Asher.
I always checked to see if they mentioned him, but today everything was about his dad—it was his birthday. I bookmarked the articles to read later and shifted on the cold step at the bottom of the school staircase. My numb butt agreed sitting here so long had been dumb.
“Kaia!” Mandy’s voice bounced off the white walls as she hurried down. “Here you are. I’ve been looking everywhere.”
I shoved my phone into my book bag. “Why?”
“Come on.” She tugged at my hoodie sleeve. “I’ll tell you on the way to class.”
Only Lit left before I could go home. At least I liked that one, which made it bearable.
“Okay,” I said, standing. “But I need to stop at my locker. My textbook’s there.”
Mandy groaned. “Again? Why didn’t you grab it earlier?”
I started toward the hallway. “I forgot.”
“You’ve been super weird lately.” She blew out a breath, hurrying to match my pace. “What happened?”
Losing my job had hit harder than I thought, and Asher’s emotional roller coaster didn’t help. Three days later, I still couldn’t get the image of his naked body out of my head. I couldn’t tell Mandy that—not after Kyle said he’d seen my brother at the club.
“I’m just stressed,” I said as we reached the lockers. “My father keeps bringing up the PSAT.”
“We have plenty of time to prep.” Mandy rolled her eyes and turned to her combination lock. “He needs to chill.”
“Unfortunately, that word isn’t in his vocabulary. What did you want to tell me?”
She glanced around, checking that the few students nearby weren’t listening.
“Dean and I are making progress. You know we talked at the club, right? Well, today he asked if I was going to Kyle’s party Saturday, and then he…
” She giggled, biting her lip. “He pushed a strand of my hair back, touched my cheek, and said he’s looking forward to seeing me there. ”
Classic Dean. I knew at least a few girls he’d led on only to ghost them after they slept together. Mandy knew too, but she must’ve convinced herself she’d be the exception.
“Did he text you after the club,” I asked, “or did he just ignore you for days before randomly asking about the party?”
She sighed. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t be happy for me. Everyone likes him but you, so maybe you’re the problem?”
“I’m happy if you are, Mandy,” I said. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“You’ll go to the party with me, right?” She ignored my warning. “Kyle wants you to come.”
Dad wanted me home studying, but if I stayed in, I’d just think about Mom and miss her more. Kyle’s party sounded like the distraction I needed.
I stalled by my locker. “Yeah.”
“Cool.” Mandy did a little dance on the spot. “I gotta pee before class. See you there.”
Her footsteps faded down the hall. I reached for my Lit textbook.
“Kaia.”
What the hell? Dean leaned against the locker beside mine, forearm braced, wearing his trademark white T-shirt despite the cold. Had he overheard us?
“Are you going to class?”
He’d never spoken to me before. Why now? I shut my locker, spun the dial, and hugged the book to my chest. “Yeah. I’m almost late. Why?”
His eyes slid over me, a smirk curving his mouth. Even in my hoodie and baggy jeans, I felt stripped bare under the weight of it. “Just wondering. There’s a party Saturday. Hope you’ll be there.”
I snorted. “Are you serious?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” He leaned closer, invading what little space I had. “I’ll make sure you have a good time. Say yes.”
My throat tightened, heart thudding. What the hell was his problem? I’d never given him a reason to think I was interested. And what about Mandy?
“You already asked Mandy.” My voice sharpened with anger. “What’s your problem?”
“Mandy…” He rubbed his chin, feigning thought. “I don’t remember anything. Seriously, you should come. Mandy or whatever can tag along. Just wear something better.”
Heat surged through me, my hands shaking. How dare he?
“Go invite someone else.” I spun away, marching toward class.
“Think you’re better than everyone?” His voice chased me down the hall, grating against my nerves.
I bit my tongue. Responding would only make it worse. But as the classroom door came into view, panic crawled up my spine.
The guy my best friend crushed on had just made a move on me. Sleazy, aggressive, but still a move. I should warn Mandy—but would she believe me?
I scrubbed a palm over my face. How had Monday gone to shit this fast?
One last glance at the classroom door, and I bolted for the exit instead.
Dad would tear into me if he found out I skipped, but that was a problem for another day.
***
I took a cab home and paid in cash so my father wouldn’t know. I hated spending money when I was trying to save, but I couldn’t stay at school.
Some of the tension eased as I stepped into the silent house. Dad and Sharon wouldn’t be back for hours, and Asher was probably still at the circuit, training.
The articles about his dad lingered in my head. Had Asher seen them too? Reading about Mom always made me emotional, but at least it was honest. Better than pretending I hadn’t lost her just to keep Dad and Sharon comfortable.
As I climbed the stairs, faint noises reached me—a low rumble, like an engine. My heart picked up. Asher was home, probably watching racing.
After what happened before, I should’ve gone straight to my room. But the pull toward him was stronger than reason. I found myself outside his door, knuckles grazing the wood. The sound inside went quiet. He didn’t tell me to come in.
Against better judgment, I stepped into his room.
Ash sat propped against his pillows, phone in hand. Shadows rimmed his eyes, his hair mussed. When he glanced up, something like longing flickered across his face.
“Hi,” I said softly, bracing for annoyance.
“Hola, peque.” He set the phone aside. “Didn’t think you’d be home so early.”
I perched on the edge of his bed. “I skipped my last class.”
I wanted to tell him about Dean—God, I needed to—but Mandy complicated everything. Instead, I studied him, the sadness etched into his features.
His gaze lingered on me too, warm in a way that made me feel seen instead of exposed. Nothing like the way Dean looked at me.
“How are you?” I whispered. “I saw some articles about your dad. It’s his birthday today, isn’t it?”
Ash nodded. “It’s nice they don’t forget. You’d think his wife would remember, but no.”
“That sucks.” I picked at my nails. “Do you want to talk about him?”
His silence made doubt creep in. Maybe I’d pushed too far.
“Ash, I—”
He reached for my hand. Heat rushed through me at the feel of his skin against mine. My pulse stuttered, breath shaky.
His thumb brushed across my knuckles. “Why are you sitting so far? Move closer.”
He shifted to make space. I slid nearer, nerves wrapping tight around me. Act normal, Kaia. You’re not thirteen anymore.
My gaze dropped to his phone on the comforter. “What were you watching? I heard bikes when I got home.”
His thumb stilled on my hand. He let go slowly, then picked up the phone.
“Just…” He hesitated. “Don’t tell anyone, okay? Especially not my mom. She doesn’t know I have it.”
Regret pinched my chest, but old images surfaced—him hiding in his room years ago, flipping his phone when I came too close, like he couldn’t risk me seeing.
Ash placed the phone on my lap and pressed play.
A RevGlobe Grand Prix race flickered across the screen. Riders leaned into a corner, one pulling ahead with effortless precision. Another curve came, and he held the lead.
“He’s good,” I whispered—then the rider lost control. The bike whipped, throwing him high before slamming him onto the tarmac. The video cut.
Air punched from my lungs. “Oh my God.” I pressed play again, desperate for more—for proof he got up—but the clip ended in the same place.
“What happened after?” I asked, my voice barely a breath.
Ash gently set the phone aside. “They waved a red flag. A helicopter was ready to take him to the hospital, but it wasn’t needed. They certified his death on the spot.”
Realization sank in. There was only one reason Asher would keep watching this on a loop. “Is he…”
“My father,” Asher said, clearing his throat as if that could hide the break in his voice. His eyes misted, and the weight of his grief crushed my chest.
He’d been torturing himself with his dad’s death for years.
“I’m so sorry, Ash,” I whispered, wishing I had better words.
He rolled onto his side. “Thank you. I don’t know why I still have the video. Every time I watch, I hope for something—some clue to explain why it happened. He was too good, peque. Too good to lose control like that. And too young to die.”
I shifted, turning toward him. With only inches between us, I studied him more closely than I ever had. The tiny scar near his right brow, the rough stubble along his jaw. Even tired and hollow-eyed, he was beautiful.
“Sometimes it isn’t anyone’s fault,” I said softly. “Even though I used to blame everything for what happened to Mom.”
Asher sighed and brushed a few strands of hair behind my ear. “Whoever said time erases everything lied. I still miss him. More than anything, I want to make him proud, wherever he is now.”
The words pricked my heart like a dozen tiny needles. “If he’s anything like my mom, he’s proud anyway,” I said softly. “We don’t have to prove ourselves to the people who love us.”
Rain lashed the window, dimming the room. Ash curled his palm over my shoulder, his thumb tracing slow circles. When our eyes locked, everything else dissolved.
His fingertips trailed up my neck, setting my skin aflame. When they brushed my lower lip, my pulse spiked, anticipation flooding me.
“Quiero besarte,” he whispered, outlining my mouth.
He wanted to kiss me? My breath caught. I wasn’t imagining it—he felt it too. This was it. Everything would change, and I was ready. I’d never wanted anyone more.
“Mierda.” Ash jerked upright, scrubbing both hands over his face like he’d woken from a dream. “Peque, I’m so sorry.”
His remorseful look snuffed out my hope.
He didn’t want me. To him it was weakness. To me it was false hope, and I couldn’t take it anymore.
I slid off the bed, praying my shaky legs wouldn’t give out.
“Kaia,” Asher said gently. “I didn’t—”
“You didn’t mean it.” I tugged my hoodie sleeves down, shivering. When had the room gone so cold? “Do me a favor, Ash.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Anything.”
“It has to stop. I can’t do this anymore. You take me to the beach, look after me, give me roses, say things you don’t mean, and I…” My eyes burned, but I refused to cry—not here, not in front of him. “I can’t. Whatever game this is, I can’t play it.”
Desperate to escape, I bolted. I was in my room before the tears spilled. I flung myself onto the bed, buried my face in the pillow, and sobbed like the world was ending.
He was right—time didn’t erase anything. Five years apart hadn’t erased my crush, and it was past time I learned some self-respect. He cared, but not enough. To him, I was just a na?ve girl clinging to crumbs of affection.
I only wished he’d tell me flat-out he didn’t want me instead of confusing me with his hot-and-cold behavior.
One step forward, ten steps back. His words and actions never aligned, and it was driving me insane.
I curled beneath the comforter, eyes squeezed shut.
I had to forget him. Focus on school. Maybe even give someone like Kyle a chance.
After what felt like twenty minutes, footsteps made every nerve snap taut.
The mattress dipped as Asher sat beside me.
Even now, a sliver of hope betrayed me, whispering he might’ve changed his mind.
“Kaia.” His hand settled on my back. “Look at me.”
I shook my head. If he saw I’d been crying, I’d see pity in his eyes, and I couldn’t bear it.
He sighed. “It’s not a game to me. I’m sorry for acting like a piece of shit. I hate that I made you feel this way. I just…” His hand rubbed slow circles over my back, but instead of comfort, the tenderness hurt worse. “I made a huge mistake saying what I did.”
My heart cracked all over again. I pulled the comforter tighter and slid lower until it covered my face, hiding the tears soaking my skin.
What had I expected? That he’d say he wanted me?
He was Sharon’s son. She and my father would never be okay with us.
Racing was everything to Asher, and he rode for my father’s team.
He wanted to make his own dad proud. Could I forgive myself if mine decided Asher no longer belonged in Forward Racing?
More tears clogged my throat. I couldn’t ruin his career. I couldn’t keep hoping he’d fall for me.
“Say something,” Ash whispered. “Say you understand.”
“I do.”
The lie burned, but it was what he needed to hear.
“You should go to your room, Ash,” I added, my voice shaking. “Our parents will be back soon.”