Chapter 91

Since Coach had been officially fired, Asher and I went to see him the next morning. We found him in his office, his personal items packed high in a single box.

I fought back tears. I didn’t want to cry when I said goodbye.

Asher offered his hand, and Coach shook it.

“It’s good to see you, Asher,” Coach said. “I’m going to have to trust you to look out for Cynthia from now on.”

“Always,” Asher said.

Lowering his hand, Coach looked at Asher curiously. Then, his face lit up like he had reached some kind of conclusion.

“Good on you. I compliment your willingness to protect your family.”

Family? Wait. Did Coach think… Asher was the father of my baby?

Asher, alarmingly, did not correct him. “I appreciate that.”

“Now, wait a minute,” I started. “I think you are misunderstanding –”

“I assume I don’t have to tell you what will happen if you hurt her,” Coach said.

Asher stood straighter.

I buried my face in my hands. This wasn’t happening. No way was I in this room while Coach gave Asher the shovel talk!

“I won’t hurt her,” Asher said, all of his glorious confidence keeping his voice strong. “I will be there for Cynthia and the baby for as long as they will have me.”

“Asher…” I couldn’t say anything else, not even when he turned those blue eyes to me. He looked at me with fierce determination, and I knew nothing would talk him out of his dedication to protecting me.

None of this was fair to him. I was tying Asher down to an illusion when he should be free to make a family of his own.

But, with that look, that devotion, I couldn’t find my voice to free him. I couldn’t even correct Coach’s misunderstanding.

So I pushed it to the back of my mind and turned to Coach.

We hugged sideways and I cried on his shoulder.

“You are going to be okay,” Coach said, patting my back. “Asher will keep you safe.”

“I’m not crying for me,” I sniffled.

“Cynthia, you are the kindest girl.” He gave me a smile, though his own eyes were watery now too. “I don’t regret what happened for even a moment.”

With a heavy weight in my chest, we walked Coach to his car parked outside the gymnasium. Asher carried his box for him and lowered it into the car’s trunk.

We said goodbye one more time, then watched Coach drive away.

Asher brought me back to his room where we sat in comfortable quiet for a while, side by side on the edge of his bed.

Then I said, “You didn’t have to let him believe you’re the father.”

“I didn’t lie about anything,” he said.

I shook my head. I couldn’t believe that. My heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

“As long as you’ll have me, I’ll be here for you.” He said it with the same conviction as before, even though we were alone.

My whole heart ached for him. I fell silent again, unable to voice it.

“I have an idea,” he said, after a time. “To help us keep up appearances.”

I lifted my head, considering him. With his fingers curled around his knees, he almost looked… nervous? But that couldn’t be. Asher wasn’t nervous about anything.

“I think we should practice,” he said.

I blinked. “Practice?”

He nodded once, stiff. “Last night at the party, those girls didn’t even know that I was already taken. I think if we were more… affectionate in public, it would only do us favors in the long run.”

I didn’t want to think about those girls, barring Asher’s way from me, determined to ask him out and take him away from me.

Maybe there was something to this idea…

“I could see… the benefits,” I said softly.

“Good.”

“What did you have in mind?”

He slid his hands from his knees up his thighs. When he looked at me, a dangerous blue flame ignited in his gaze. “Sit on my lap.”

A burst of desire clawed its way from my chest, heading south down my body. Surely he didn’t mean…?

But he only kept looking at me. His legs were spread. I’d fit comfortably between them, resting on one of his strong thighs.

He watched and waited. He wouldn’t push if I didn’t want to do this.

But I did. I wanted it so much I could practically taste it.

So, gathering my courage, I pushed myself to my feet and walked into the space between his thighs.

His hands found my waist. Slowly, gently, he guided me down. But unlike what I had expected, I wasn’t urged onto one of his legs. Instead, he lifted my knees onto either side of his waist so that my ass pressed snugly into the cradle of his lap.

Like this, I was level with his face. If I pushed up onto my knees, he would have to look up at me.

He hooked his thumbs over the ends of my back pockets, his fingers resting on the curve of my backside.

My heart raced so loudly I barely heard my own voice as I whispered, “What now?”

“Put your fingers in my hair.” Any trace of his earlier nervousness was fully gone. Now, he was confidence incarnate, eyes on fire. His voice dripped molten desire with each demand.

I obeyed, sliding my fingers into his hair. Then I stilled, waiting for his next command.

“When it feels good, pull.”

“When what—”

I didn’t get to finish my question. Instead, his mouth fell onto the skin revealed by my V-neck t-shirt. He latched onto the edge of my collarbone, lapping greedily.

He hadn’t needed to order me to tug at his hair, I clung to it now. His mouth was so hot, so wet. Every single nerve in my body came alive, desperate for his attention.

“You don’t touch me when we are together in front of others,” Asher said between open-mouth kisses to my skin. “You need to learn. If you are to be my girlfriend, they must believe that you want me.”

I wanted him so badly I thought I might burst into flames. “Asher.”

“Like that,” he said, voice suddenly much deeper. “Learn my body, Cyn. Take what you want. Leave no question who satisfies me.”

His words were sweet as honey, and I wanted more. I was greedy. I wanted everything.

“Asher.”

“Guide me, Cyn. I’ll give it to you, I swear. Whatever you want. However much you want.”

Delirious with wanton pleasure, I tugged at his hair, leading his mouth away from my clavicle to my breast.

He groaned as he kissed me over my clothes. He trailed several kisses around the globe of my breast, before latching his mouth over my nipple. Through my thin bra and thinner t-shirt, I felt the dampness of his sip, and the insistence of his tongue.

I moaned, head falling back. I hated every scrap of clothing between us.

Under me, I felt the evidence of his desire for me grow harder. I grinded myself down against it. The delicious friction of his hardness and my jeans left me gasping.

His hand slipped under my shirt, sliding up the bare skin of my back, dipping beneath the clasp of my bra.

I pressed my breast more fully against his mouth. He added teeth, biting gently at my hard, aching nipple.

“A-Asher!”

He rocked his hips up into mine, and I bucked against him. My fingers tightened in his hair.

His mouth was so hot. His body so hard.

When he rocked again, I lost it. Pleasure sent tremors through my body. I gripped at him hard. He moaned against me.

For a brief, glorious moment, I floated in post-organismic bliss. Asher had me wound so tightly I came from barely any touch at all.

Then the high of pleasure faded, and I realized what I had done.

And who I had done it with.

Asher. My fake boyfriend.

Embarrassment shot through me like I’d been struck by lightning. I scrambled away from Asher’s lap, from his touch. I couldn’t even look at him!

What he must think of me!

“Cynthia, wait. It’s okay.”

I couldn’t stand his kindness. Not now. Not after what I just…

We were just practicing, and I…!

Too mortified to face him, I turned and bolted from his room.