Chapter 12 Mia #2
Damon’s weight is still pressed against me, my back flat against the floor, my body still tingling from what we just did. His head snaps up toward the door, his eyes narrowing, but it’s too late. Before either of us can react or even move, the door creaks open, and Asher steps inside.
His usual grin vanishes the second he takes in the scene. His gaze moves between us—me, flushed and breathless beneath Damon, and Damon, his hand braced on the floor beside my head. Both of us are disheveled.
I scramble to push Damon off, tugging my shirt down, my face on fire. Damon shifts back onto his knees, adjusting his pants in a way that’s far too obvious. My cheeks burn with mortification, and I can’t bring myself to look at Asher.
He stands there, gaping for half a second, clearly stunned by what he’s walked in on. His eyes flick from Damon to me, taking in our disheveled hair, our rumpled clothes, the very obvious fact that we’ve just been—
“Oh,” Asher mutters, his usual grin replaced by wide-eyed shock. “I—uh—sorry—” He stammers so badly, it’s almost painful, his gaze bouncing around the room like he can’t find a safe place to land. Then, with a sharp pivot, he backs out, the door clicking shut with awkward finality.
The moment he’s gone, I feel the reality crash over me. My limbs are still shaky from everything Damon and I just did, my mind racing with embarrassment. I tug my pants up, hands shaking so badly that I can’t even look at Damon.
He clears his throat, standing and fumbling with his belt. “Mia...” His voice is rough, low, but he doesn’t finish whatever he intended to say.
I swallow hard, wishing I could vanish. “This wasn’t... I didn’t…” I trail off, heat flooding my cheeks all over again. God, I can’t believe Asher just saw that.
Damon bends down, offering me a hand. I take it, letting him pull me up. The last echoes of pleasure still tingle in my body, but the humiliation is so overpowering, I can hardly think.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice subdued, maybe even a little apologetic.
I press a trembling hand to my forehead. “No. I’m not.”
He motions like he might reach for me, but then seems to think better of it. We just... did that, but now there’s this chasm of awkwardness between us. My heart still thuds in my chest, and I’m pretty sure my face is the color of a tomato.
I glance toward the door, mortification swirling in my chest. “Do you think he... heard anything?”
Damon snorts softly, though there’s no humor in it. “I think it’s safe to say Asher got the picture.”
“Asher...” I squeeze my eyes shut. “That’s not how I wanted him to find out.” Or anyone, for that matter. “This is a disaster,” I groan.
Damon frowns at that. “Why are you so bothered?”
“Are you kidding me?” I say. “Your colleague just caught us having sex on the floor!”
“Asher can keep his mouth shut,” Damon says matter-of-factly, which almost drives me crazy.
“Are you serious?” I say.
“Yeah, but I’m not sure what you’re getting at here.” He steps up to me. “This isn’t a mistake. You aren’t a mistake. Period.”
Despite myself, my heart skips a beat.
“Why do you care so much about what Asher thinks?” Damon says. “He can and will mind his business.”
He’s right. Why do I care? Is it just because of the kiss we shared in the kitchen while he baked cookies for my daughters? Is it because I kissed Zane as well?
What am I even doing? This isn’t me.
I rake a hand through my hair. “I need to get out of here.”
Before Damon can say anything else, I walk out of the room.
We find Asher standing in the hallway just outside the room, his back to us, staring out the window.
“Everything okay in there?” he asks without turning around, his voice a little too calm, a little too measured. His words echo what he was saying earlier, but it sounds different this time. He’s not his usual cheery self anymore. Instead, his hands are clenched tightly by his side.
Damon clears his throat, stepping out beside me. “Just teaching our client about tactical awareness,” he says.
Asher turns then, his gaze flicking between us, his expression unreadable. “By tackling her?”
Of course, he’s too polite to point out that Damon was missing his pants in there.
“I get it,” I snap, stepping away from them both. My clothes are still rumpled, and I smooth my shirt, trying to regain some sense of composure. “I’m an idiot who can’t even sit down without risking her life.”
I move to leave, but Asher blocks my path, his hand gently catching my arm. “Hey,” he says softly, his tone entirely different now—gentle, almost kind. “We’re just trying to keep you safe.”
The tenderness in his voice makes my chest ache. He’s being nice, despite... everything, and it only makes the guilt twist tighter in my gut.
I shake my arm free, avoiding his eyes. “I know,” I mutter, barely above a whisper. My voice cracks slightly as I add, “But it’s not just my safety at stake, is it?”
I push past him, needing to escape, needing air. My heart pounds as I walk down the hallway, the sound of my steps swallowed up by the thick silence. I glance back once before I round the corner.
Asher stands frozen where I left him, watching me go, his brows furrowed like he’s trying to piece something together. Damon stands just behind him, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable.
The moment hangs heavy in the air, and I know I’ve made everything even more complicated than it already was.
Hours later, I’m in the dimly lit kitchen, the only light spilling in from the streetlamp outside.
The house is silent except for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of old wood.
I grip the counter, staring at the untouched cup of tea in front of me, trying to calm my racing thoughts.
“Can’t sleep?”
I jump, nearly knocking over the cup. Asher is leaning against the door frame.
“Stop sneaking up on me,” I snap, pressing a hand to my chest as my heart pounds.
“Occupational hazard,” he says with a slight smirk, stepping into the kitchen. He moves to the coffee maker. “Want to talk about what happened with Damon earlier?”
“Nothing happened,” I say quickly, too quickly. The words feel like a lie the moment they leave my lips.
“Right.” He turns, his blue eyes studying me over the rim of his mug as he takes a slow sip. “And nothing happened with Zane on the porch, either?”
Heat floods my face, and I feel the ground shift beneath me. “You saw?”
“I see everything, Mia. It’s my job.” His tone is calm, but there’s an edge to it. He sets the mug down on the counter with a quiet thud, the sound unnervingly loud in the stillness.
I hear what he’s saying, but at the same time, I don’t. My mind races, scrambling for some way to defend myself, to deflect, but nothing comes. Instead, I fidget with the hem of my shirt, unable to meet his gaze.
“It’s not... it wasn’t…”
“You don’t owe me an explanation,” he says, cutting me off gently but firmly. “Not with Zane, or with Damon. I’m not here to grill you with questions. But you do need to figure out what you’re doing.”
I finally look at him, my hands tightening on the counter. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re in danger, Mia,” he says, his voice sharpening.
“The kind of danger where distractions can get you—or your girls—hurt.” He steps closer, his blue eyes locked on mine.
“And Damon, Zane, me—we’re all trying to keep you alive.
But we can’t do that if you’re getting tangled up in. .. this.”
“This?” I echo, my voice rising despite the knot tightening in my chest. “You think I don’t know how serious this is? You think I don’t know what’s at stake?”
“I think you’re overwhelmed right now,” he says softly. “And I think Jason knows exactly how to exploit that.”
The truth of his words hits me like a punch to the gut. I turn away, gripping the counter to steady myself.
“I didn’t ask for any of this,” I say.
“No one did,” he says, stepping closer again. His presence is warm, steadying, and for a moment, I let myself lean into it. “But you’re here now,” he continues. “And you’ve got three people who’d go through hell to keep you safe. Just... don’t make it harder than it already is.”
The lump in my throat feels like it might choke me. I nod, unable to speak, the words caught somewhere between my heart and my mouth.
Asher lets the silence hang for a moment. “Get some rest,” he says. I can smell him, something sweet but masculine at the same time. “You’re stronger than you think, Mia. Don’t let him make you forget that.”
I look up at him and nod. My heart stutters.
I need to shut this down. All of it.
But when Asher reaches out, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from my face, I find myself leaning into his touch like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hand lingers, warm and steady, and my breath catches.
This is wrong. I know it is.
“Asher—” I begin.
A throat clears, cutting through the moment like a blade.
I jerk back, heat flooding my face as I turn toward the doorway. Zane stands there, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
“My shift,” he says tersely. “Get some sleep.”
For a moment, neither of us moves. Asher’s gaze flicks to me, something unspoken passing between us before he steps back with a nod.
“Right,” Asher says. “Good night, Mia.”
I don’t trust myself to speak, so I just nod, my hands gripping the counter behind me for support. Asher gives Zane a look I can’t quite read before he walks out of the kitchen, his footsteps disappearing into the quiet of the house.
Zane doesn’t move from the doorway.
“I—” I start to say, but Zane cuts me off.
“Go to bed, Mia.” His voice is flat, his jaw tight.
I swallow hard. Without another word, I slip past him, my pulse thundering in my ears as I climb the stairs.
As I reach the landing, I glance back, just for a moment. Zane is still in the kitchen, staring out the window, his shoulders tense.
I close the bedroom door behind me and lean against it, my chest heaving.
This isn’t just about Jason anymore.
Whatever’s happening with Asher, with Zane, even with Damon, I’m in dangerous territory.
And I don’t know how to stop myself from falling deeper.