Chapter 24
Asher
We lay curled up together for a while.
The room had gone quiet around us, all except for the soft pulls of Wilder breathing against my neck. Each exhale ghosted over my skin, warm and steady. My heart had finally started to slow, a steady rhythm pulsed in my chest, syncing up with the calm that was beginning to seep into my limbs.
The high of what we’d just done still tingled in the tips of my fingers that I moved along Wilder’s back. The afterglow that followed was something deeper, settling into the marrow of my bones and refusing to budge.
Wilder hadn’t moved much, and honestly, I didn’t want him to.
His weight was draped over me, solid and comforting like a blanket I never wanted to take off. His stubble scratched lightly against my shoulder every time he shifted the tiniest bit and I could feel the steady beat of his heart where our chests were pressed together.
I didn’t want to move ever again, even though I knew we’d have to eventually.
Real life waited just beyond the door of this bedroom, with all its chores and responsibilities, and whatever the hell was happening with Carter and the feed situation.
But right here in this small pocket of peace, tangled up in Wilder, I could pretend none of that mattered. That we didn’t have roles to play or titles that complicated everything. I didn’t want to untangle myself from him and let the world in again.
“Tell me what upset you on Christmas.” His words were quiet, soft spoken against my collarbone.
Honestly, that was the last thing I expected him to ask me. “What?”
He shifted just enough to press his nose against my jaw. “On Christmas, when I called you, you sounded upset and told me you didn’t want to talk about it. What happened?”
Oh, Wilder.
Leave it to him to remember something like that.
I grazed my fingers through his hair. “My brother was kind of being a dick. Actually, no. He was one, but we worked it out. Our older brother had to travel to California because his boyfriend got injured during a job, so that left us alone on Christmas. Instead of spending the day with me, he ended up going out and leaving me home alone by myself.”
Wilder lifted his head to look at me. “No wonder you sounded upset. I wish you would’ve said something. I would’ve kept you company.”
That warmed me. “You had your own family to spend time with.”
He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re important, too.”
I blinked, momentarily stunned by the way he said it. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. The certainty in his voice made something crack open inside me, bleeding into the guilt I’d felt for bothering him in the first place when I’d called all those weeks ago.
Now, I wished I had actually told him what was going on, to see what he would’ve done to try and make me feel better.
Would he have stayed on the phone with me as a silent pillar of support, or talked to me about everything and nothing until I finally passed out for the night?
My hand found its way back into his hair, fingers slipping through the short strands as I tried to find the right words to speak again. “I didn’t want to ruin your holiday. It was just one bad day... I figured it wasn’t worth dragging you into it.”
He scoffed quietly, the vibration of the sound brushing against my skin as he laid his head back down on my chest. “You could never ruin anything for me. You needed someone. I would’ve dropped everything if you asked.”
Goddamn it.
That was the thing about Wilder, he always said things like that—simple, no-nonsense truths that hit way harder than he probably intended them to.
His voice was tailor-made to disarm, to get past all the flimsy walls I’d built up to try and keep my distance from him because that was what I was supposed to do with this dumb little crush.
Now all of them had been blown to bits.
“I didn’t think you’d want to,” I said softly.
“Asher, I always want to talk to you. Why do you think I’m constantly hovering?”
My heart thudded a little too hard at that. “Because you’re trying to make sure I don’t accidentally maim myself and give you a bunch of paperwork to fill out?”
He huffed out a laugh. “Listen, I will always be worrying about you. But that has nothing to do with me trusting you not to get injured. It just...”
I swallowed, desperate to hear the rest. “Just what?”
My heart kicked up hard beneath his palm when he moved it to rest over my chest, hammering against his touch like it was trying to find a way out. He leaned in, his lips brushing against my jaw to press a soft kiss there. “I just want to protect you.”
What?
“Stop avoiding me, then.”
He exhaled slowly. “I have to... or else I’m going to end up keeping you with me twenty-four seven. I’d never let you out of my sight if I had it my way. That’s not exactly healthy when I’m trying to encourage you to be independent here.”
I pulled back just enough to look at him, frustration blooming under my skin, making me hot. “You’re kidding me.”
His brow furrowed. “What?”
“I thought you hated me,” I said, tugging at his hair. “Or at the very least, that I got on your nerves so bad you couldn’t stand being around me. Now, you’re telling me you’ve been avoiding me because you... liked being around me too much?”
He winced slightly, hearing it said out loud made it sound just as bad as what it felt being on the receiving end of it. “I wouldn’t put it like that...”
“Well, I am. That’s exactly how it sounds. Jesus, Wilder, do you know how many nights I stayed up overthinking everything I did after a day of you glaring at me? Every little thing I said I thought I messed up with you. That I was too loud or too... everything. I don’t know.”
He stared at me, his eyes wide with what looked dangerously close to regret. “You weren’t too anything. You were just... you. I liked that—like it. A lot more than I should, so I’ve stayed away from you.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
What kind of excuse was that?
Wilder looked away, his jaw tightening. “I didn’t know what to do with you. You’re nineteen, Asher. You have your whole life ahead of you. I didn’t want to cross a line we couldn’t come back from.”
“I’m pretty sure what we’ve been doing is about ten miles past that imaginary line.”
We laid together in silence for a beat, his hand still over my heart like he couldn’t bring himself to move it away. I didn’t want him to anyway, I wanted him right here.
“This whole time I thought I was annoying the shit out of you,” I said. “Especially with the whole Pelly thing.”
“I’m glad you’ve taken to her. She trusts you a lot, and that’s a big accomplishment for a horse like her. You have and will never annoy me. I’m... I don’t mean to come across that way, I’m sorry.”
I swallowed hard, emotions bubbling up behind my ribs that were too intense to ignore.
He sighed heavily.
A finger moved slowly across my chest, drawing invisible shapes into my skin. “When my father died almost two years ago, I got wrapped up in trying to step into his shadow. Be him. I guess... In the process, I’ve erased myself a bit.”
There was a rawness to his voice I wasn’t expecting.
I’d known about his dad passing, of course—everyone at the ranch did. It happened almost a year to the day before I got here. While no one talked about it much, it was obvious that the loss had hit everyone hard.
Especially Wilder.
He carried the grief quietly, much like I did. Having your parents pass wasn’t an easy thing to deal with when it came to other people. They tended to dance around the subject while dissecting your pain, poking at the wound until they knew where it bled.
I never understood why people were so weird when it came to grief and dying. Then again, I’d lost my parents young, so I’d had time to come to terms with its uncomfortability.
Hearing him admit to feeling lost while trying to step into his dad’s shoes made me sad. He was so much more than the man trying to live in another one’s shadow. He’d inherited this place along with the responsibility of living up to a ghost.
I’d only heard bits and pieces from the other ranch hands about Wilder’s dad, and from what I’d gathered, he’d been well respected, loved, and almost like some kind of legend figure.
“You shouldn’t have to erase yourself to run this place,” I said, curving my hand around to cup his jaw and lift his head.
He didn’t say anything right away, just stared at me with that same expression I’d always had a hard time reading. “It’s a lot harder to come back from than I thought it’d be.”
“Sully doesn’t help you?”
“He does,” Wilder said with a small nod. “As much as he can. But lately... something’s been going on with him.”
That made my brows pinch together. “What kind of something?”
He lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “I’m not sure. He’s been off. We’re not fighting exactly, but we’ve been at odds for a little bit now. He’s tight-lipped more than usual. I’m trying to give him space. Let the dust settle before I talk to him again.”
“You think it’s about the ranch?”
He hesitated for a moment. “Maybe. Or something else. Sully’s always been private.
Even when my father was alive, he kept most of his personal shit locked up tight.
That was just... how they functioned. My father trusted him with everything and Sully never let him down.
He handled things... I think he’s still carrying that weight.
My father’s death hit us all hard. Admitting he’s struggling, too, isn’t something Sully would be open to. ”
Maybe... or it was a case of Sully not knowing how to bring the subject up—to start the conversation they both clearly needed to have weeks ago. Hell, maybe even months ago. Grief did weird shit to people, made them dig their heels in and lash out without explanation.
Sully didn’t strike me as that type, though. He was more of a stone wall, stoic kind of man that could weather a storm without looking like it fazed him
None of that meant things didn’t affect him, though. It just meant he was good at hiding the pain.
Whatever the case may be, it wasn’t exactly my place to get involved, even if it was killing me to see Wilder upset about it.
What I could do, though, was be there without pushing, support him until he felt the need to actually pull Sully aside and have that one-on-one talk with him, ease the burden he’d been carrying on his shoulders for the past almost two years.
“I don’t think he’s trying to shut you out,” I said after a beat. “Some people are shit at asking for help. If they’ve spent their whole lives being depended on, it’s hard to admit they need that same thing reciprocated.”
Gage was the number one culprit in my life who was guilty of that. I couldn’t even count on my hands the number of times Grey and I have had to put our foot down and force him into opening up to us.
It was like pulling teeth with our brother sometimes, but we always managed to force him to talk no matter what the subject entailed.
“You’re not failing anybody, Wilder. Least of all Sully. But maybe it’s time you both stop trying to be your father’s legacy and start making your own.”
He blinked at me, clearly surprised while he considered my words. I half expected him to brush me off and tell me I didn’t know what I was talking about—that there was more to running this place and the nuances that went into his relationship with his right hand than I’d ever come to know.
However, to my surprise he said none of that.
A slow smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah... I think you’re right.”
I couldn’t help mirror him with my own grin. “That’s the spirit.”
He lifted himself up onto his hands, leaning over to press a chaste kiss against my lips. “Thank you, Asher.”
I breathed him in, hauling him down against me, unwilling to let him go. “No need to thank me. I’m full of sage advice. Real old soul stuff.”
He chuckled against my neck. “Wise for your nineteen years, I see.”
“That’s what people tell me.”
He hummed, quiet and content, before shifting just enough to nuzzle his nose into the crook of my neck. His breath fanned warm across my skin as he inhaled deeply, like he was trying to imprint the smell of me into his memory.
Whatever the future held, I hoped Wilder stopped being so damn hard on himself. He deserved peace. To live without feeling the pressure of filling someone else’s shoes and instead, carve his own path.
He deserved to be seen for the man that he was, not the role he was fulfilling in place of someone else long gone. I never knew his dad, but I was confident he’d never want something like that for his son.
What kind of father would?
If he let me, I’d make sure to spend every damn day reminding him of exactly that.