Chapter 26

When Asher rejected me, declaring me nothing more than his best friend’s sister again, the only way I knew to find comfort was in my dance.

I’d retreated to the dance studio, turned up the music and forgot about anything and everything but the feel of my own body.

Dancing was my sanctuary. So I was surprised when I opened my eyes and found Asher watching me.

And the way he looked at me sent my foolish heart soaring again. His face was a blank mask as always, but his eyes revealed so much more. He looked… impressed.

Yet too soon that look had disappeared, replaced with a storm cloud of unreadable emotion. “Who do you dance for?”

A simple question with a simple answer. “I dance for myself.”

He blinked and the storm cleared. Some of the tension eased from his shoulders. The answer seemed to satisfy him, though I didn’t understand why.

“Your dancing…” He paused, as if searching for a word. “It’s beautiful.”

He had been impressed. I couldn’t help the smile that stretched my lips.

“Thank you,” I said.

He nodded. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” he said, backing through the door. “Be careful not to overdo it.”

“I will.” I wanted to ask him to stay but I didn’t know how. And I knew I shouldn’t.

Asher probably had better things to do than spend time with his friend’s kid sister.

When he was gone, I clicked on a sadder melody, a song of loneliness, and started dancing again.

Nicole and I had such a good time in the game room at the after-party the other night, that we decided to hang out for a while at a local arcade. We played games and laughed.

It felt so nice to finally have a friend.

When we got hungry, we went to the snack bar and ordered a pile of everything nachos to share. We took it to a nearby table and sat down to eat.

“I took your advice,” I told her. “I followed my heart.”

“How did it go?” She crunched on a nacho chip.

“I’m glad I followed it. I would have regretting going out with that boy. But…” I sighed. “I think I’m destined for heartbreak.”

“You have to see it through, one way or the other,” Nicole said, shrugging. “There’s not an easy way out.”

“Maybe.”

“You can trust me,” she said. “Love is easy to figure out. It’s sex that I don’t understand.”

I wasn’t exactly a sex expert. I’d only been with Joseph. But it didn’t seem all that complicated.

“Can I ask you something sex-related? I heard the girls talking in the locker room and I didn’t get what they meant.”

“Sure,” I said.

“What does it mean to be a generous lover?”

Generous was not how I would describe Joseph. I had to tap into my fantasies to answer properly. “I think it’s someone who likes making sure their partner is enjoying themselves.”

“Oh.” She dipped her chip into the melted cheese. “Isn’t that everyone?”

“Unfortunately not,” I said.

“Guess that’s a good point for Asher, then.”

My mind went blank. “What?”

“The girls said Asher is a generous lover,” Nicole said casually, like she hadn’t just turned my world sideways. “Though I don’t know why anyone would bother with the opposite.”

Asher. Generous lover.

In an instant, intense, detailed fantasies flooded my otherwise empty brain.

Asher, sliding his hands under my clothes to carefully pull them off. Those same hands supporting me as he lowered me, naked, onto the edge of his bed. He would make sure I was comfortable.

Then he would drop to his knees beside the bed. He would hitch my legs over his wide shoulders.

“You don’t have to,” I would mumble, embarrassed to have myself on display for his searing gaze.

“I will taste you,” he would demand, breath hot against my most sensitive area, followed quickly by an unrelenting tongue.

He gave everything he did such intense focus and determination. This would be no different.

Generous lover. He wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t slow, until I was a writhing, begging mess on his tongue. He’d have to hold me down with his hands. I wouldn’t be able to stop my hips from bucking.

“Asher,” I would say his name like a prayer.

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, overwhelmed.

“Cynthia?” Nicole asked, startling me back into reality. “You okay? Your face is beet red.”

Embarrassment flashed through me, but it was not enough to quash the flame of desire.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” I said at once, and ran there.

I thanked the universe that it was a single stall bathroom with a locking door. I flipped the lock, leaned against the wall, and pushed my hand into my pants, searching for relief.

“Asher,” I whispered aloud, because I could here, alone, if I stayed quiet enough.

“Good girl,” Asher had said in my ear at training. I heard it now, in my thoughts. I bet he’d like me saying his name. Arrogant.

I touched myself to thoughts of his mouth on my clit and two of his fingers inside me. I was so riled up that it didn’t take long for me to edge close to the peak.

“Come for me,” Asher said in my mind, demanding like always.

So I did, with his name on my lips. “Asher…”

Finished, I basked in the pleasant afterglow for only a moment before I remembered where I was and what I was doing. And who I was imagining.

Asher didn’t want me. When they said he was a generous lover, they meant with other women.

The thought carved out my heart, leaving an empty shell in my chest. Regret filled me.

What was I doing, thinking of him like this?

I washed my hands, buried down all my feelings, and went back into the arcade.

I pretended like nothing happened until I got home. Then I flopped face-first onto my bed and hated myself. I hated Asher too. But mostly, I hated every woman who got to touch him – and be touched by him – instead of me.

My phone buzzed with a new message. I audibly groaned when I saw it was from Asher.

I still opened it.

Dinner tonight?

It was an olive branch, I knew. We’d both said things to each other that we had aimed to hurt, and we hadn’t really dealt with it.

I should accept, and then we could go back to the relationship we had with all the lines firmly in place.

But I wasn’t quite ready to do that yet. My hurt, and my desire, were too fresh. Maybe tomorrow, I could go back to pretending I didn’t want him as much as I did.

A new message came in while I stared at the screen. Not from Asher, this time.

From Joseph.

Wanting the distraction, I opened it.

Just hear me out, okay? That’s all I ask. Meet me. Hear me out. And if what I say isn’t good enough, I’ll back off.

For the next ten minutes, I looked between the two messages.

Asher, who would never want me.

Joseph, who had thrown me away. But who was trying to make amends.

My heart was in conflict. I knew who I wanted to spend my evening with, but I also knew it would only lead to more hurt and more longing.

I needed space to recollect my wounded feelings.

So I made up my mind and sent two messages.

To Asher, Sorry, I’m busy tonight.

And to Joseph, Where?