Chapter 49

Me.

I stared at Asher, my eyes as wide as they could physically go.

He wasn’t suggesting…

He couldn’t mean…

Did he actually want to be in a romantic relationship with me?

Too soon, his determination evaporated, and he removed his hands from my shoulders.

“Someone like me, I mean,” he said.

My heart cracked straight down the middle as my hope shattered.

Of course he hadn’t meant himself. I was a fool for considering otherwise, even for a brief moment.

As disappointment flooded me and the remnants of adrenaline faded away, I just felt so very tired.

“I want to go home, Asher.”

I couldn’t wait to crawl under my covers and forget this entire day existed.

At least, I supposed, I had been gifted a cheek-kiss of forever friendship from Asher on top of that Ferris Wheel. It wasn’t romantic love, but I was no less grateful for it.

I knew I’d appreciate it more tomorrow, when the ache of his rejection had time to heal.

Wordlessly, Asher opened the passenger door of his car for me, and I slipped inside.

As tired as I was, once I was safe in my dorm room and under the covers, I could not find sleep no matter how many imaginary sheep I tried counting to clear my mind.

All of the nights events – the cheek kiss with Asher, the kiss stolen by Joseph, the feel of Asher’s hands on my shoulders, the way he said You deserve better – replayed in my mind again and again on a loop.

And, too, the similarities between Aimee and my situations plagued me. She’d made different choices than me, but were are futures the same?

Midterms were coming up. Our history professor had said that if Aimee missed the big exam that she would fail out of the Academy.

I had to do more to help Aimee, for her and for myself. If I were in her position, which I someday might be, I would hope someone would help me.

But I didn’t know where to begin. Aimee wouldn’t speak to me in person. If I sent her messages on social media, she’d recognize me and not reply.

But maybe if I was a stranger, Aimee might be more willing to open up.

Inspired, I pulled myself out of bed in the early morning and created a new, entirely fake social media account. Fake pictures, fake posts – the works!

By eight am, I had the new profile ready, and sent Aimee a private message.

Hi, Aimee! I’m hoping you can help me. I’m new to the Academy and looking for a friend!

If Aimee had even one person who believed in her, maybe it would be enough for her to return to school.

As I got ready for the day, I kept watch on my notifications. When one came through, I dropped everything to check it.

Aimee had replied! I clicked it open, and my heart dropped.

No.

A simple, one word rejection.

My inspiration deflated at once. Maybe a fake account hadn’t been such a good idea, after all. Maybe there really was no helping Aimee.

I slouched my shoulders, defeated. Maybe that meant there was no hope for my future, either.

Sighing, I closed the social media app and tried not to think about it again.

At cheerleading practice, the new routines continued to be demanding of my body. Only by pushing myself hard was I able to hit the necessary positions in time with the other girls. Even with Lilith’s help, the endeavor left me absolutely exhausted physically.

Afterwards, I slunk out of the locker room like a zombie, barely able to lift my feet to drag myself home.

I’d have to skip my afternoon classes in favor of a nap. I didn’t think I’d be able to keep my eyes open even if I went.

As I stumbled further, I realized I might not even have the energy to make it back to my room.

Instead, I flopped down on a park bench shaded under an oak tree. The bench was hard, not particularly comfortable, but my body was so happy to relax for even a moment, that it nearly turned to goo.

The birds were singing. Despite a gentle chill in the air, the sun was shining brightly.

It was so soothing being in nature, being calm, that my eyes slowly shut. I drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

More than peaceful, when I saw Asher in my dreams.

“What are you doing here, Cyn?” he asked.

I knew he wasn’t real, because he smiled wider than I’d ever seen. God, he had a handsome smile – sharp as a predator’s, with a hint of mischief in his eye.

I wanted him to devour me.

… And why not? This was a dream, after all. I could do things here that I would never dare in reality.

Suddenly confident, I sauntered toward him, watching how his eyes hooded, gaze lowering to my sashaying hips. I added a little more swing just for him.

“I’m seducing you, Asher,” I said, a thrill running through me at the boldness of it.

How freeing this was, to be so open with my desires. To take what I wanted.

I pouted my bottom lip, and he stared at it.

“Is it working?” I asked him.

A blink and he was closer. Time moved strangely in dreams. I didn’t question it.

He grabbed my hand and placed it against the front of his jeans. Under my palm, his hardness swelled. He was big.

Of course he was. Everything about Asher was perfect.

My mouth watered. I bet he had moves, too, to back it up.

“Guess,” he said.

Another blink, and I was lifted in his arms. My legs were wrapped around his waist. His hands were under my thighs, supporting my weight.

His face was so close to mine. I had waited a long time for a kiss, so I leaned in and claimed one.

His mouth opened at once, his tongue licked into mine.

I pushed my fingers through his hair, tugging at the small strands at the back of his neck.

His hands slid over my thighs to my ass, and he possessively squeezed.

It was wonderful. It was perfect.

It wasn’t enough.

I felt his hardness at the apex of my thighs, but we had too many clothes between us. I wanted him naked.

“Asher,” I whimpered. “More.”

“Not yet,” he said against my panting lips. “First, I want to see you fall apart just like this.”

I’d give Asher anything he wanted, especially if I wanted it too. So I began to undulate my hips, rolling my clit against his hardness, pressing into the delicious friction of our clothes in between.

“I want you,” I begged between my whimpers and moans. “Please. Asher, please.”

“Cynthia.”

I loved the way he said my name.

“Cynthia,” he said again, more insistent.

I moved faster, hoping to give us what we both wanted.

His hands were everywhere on me: my ass, my back, my shoulder, my face.

“Asher.”

“Cynthia, wake up.”

Wake up? That was odd for dream Asher to say. Unless.

“Cynthia. Wake up, now.”

I blinked open my eyes and I was in my bedroom, on my bed, with a real life Asher trapped beneath me, his hips between my thighs. His hands were curled into fists, grabbing the sheets.

He was looking everywhere but at me.

I froze at once. My body was warm all over.

Had I been…?

Did I…?

“What are you doing here?” I whispered, afraid to move one inch. I wasn’t imagining the hardness pressing against my backside. Thank God we were clothed.

“You fell asleep outside. I carried you back here. But then you wouldn’t let me go.”

He motioned to the front of his chest, where my fingers, like claws, and had clutched his shirt into bunches. The shirt had ridden up, revealing a sliver of bare skin and hard abs.

“I… oh.”

Oh!

At once, I released him. I jumped away from him so fast that I fell off the bed. Fortunately the comforter had bunched up on the floor, cushioning my fall. But a bunch of the flowers still went toppling.

My face burned in embarrassment.

How much of my dream had I acted out in reality?

Would Asher ever forgive me? Would I ever forgive myself?

I covered my face with my hands, though I was too curious to look away for long.

Peeking at him through my fingers, I had to know how he felt.

He watched me with wolf-like hunger.

I had wanted to be devoured by him.

It looked like I was about to get my chance.