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Restorations Page 2
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Page 2
It shouldn’t irritate me. I’m his uncle, after all. It’s fine for people to say he acts like me, but it irks me. He’s not my kid. He’s Colt’s.
And hers.
Something she reminded me of when she ripped him away from me.
“Colt used to run a lot too.”
She smiles at that and sighs heavily. “He did, but more for a purpose. Sebastian . . . He can run and run for no reason at all.”
True. Both of his parents were planners. Never made a move without thinking it through. Baz jumps before he looks to where he might land with his eyes closed and a smile on his face.
I turn when I hear footsteps on the stairs and see Viv and Lola walking down to meet us. They greet Mom first and then Baz runs into Viv’s waiting arms. “Mommy!”
My mom laughs, looking over at Viv, who’s nearly knocked over by Sebastian. “He never wants to stay very long in the morning. He wanted to get right back to Mommy.”
Vivienne smooths his hair and then holds him tight. “I’m okay with that.”
Yeah, she used Sawyer for a couple of mediocre orgasms, and now she’s back to SuperMommy.
I know that’s not completely fair. I’ve always thought she was an excellent mom, until she took Baz away from me. Only to hurt me.
Baz sounds excited as he pulls out of Viv’s hold, still standing close to her. “Uncle Asher moved here! I’m so excited!”
Vivienne is clearly annoyed but forces a smile for him. “That’s great, honey.”
“I not honey. I’m Baz.”
Everyone in the room snickers at that, and she takes his hand. “Okay, Baz. Let’s go to your room and unpack your stuff.”
“Okay.” He gives Mom a big hug and then grabs Viv’s hand as she waves at Mom and tells her a quick thank-you before Baz jerks her toward the hall.
Lola looks at me, studying me and then hugs Mom as she’s already heading for the door. “I’m going to go check on Hayden.”
“Tell him hi for me,” Mom says as they part.
“I will.” Lola’s eyes slide over me again, and then she goes into the kitchen, leaving me with Mom.
I can feel unspoken words hanging between us, and finally I give in. “What’s up?”
Her concerned look doesn’t fade. “You aren’t here to torture that poor girl, are you?”
“Jeez thanks, Mom.” I’m not surprised she’s looking out for Viv though. Though I smile and scoff at how worried she looks, as if she thinks I have some sinister plan to punish Viv. I don’t. Anything that happens between us will be completely and totally spur of the moment. I spend most of my time trying not to think about her.
“You look like your father when you smile.”
“And how the hell would you know about that?” That fucker never smiles. He’s miserable and has been since I can remember.
“He was happy once, Asher.”
“That’s hard to believe, Mom.”
“Asher . . .” She looks defeated, like she’s finally fully giving up on me. “Vivienne is a mom. Sebastian’s mom. And she needs to be able to do that to the best of her ability.”
“I’m not here to hurt her. I’m here for Baz.”
“And for your family, right?”
“Sure.”
She doesn’t believe me, but she pushes through the doubt and puts that fake fucking smile on her face. “Good. I’m happy you’re here.”
She pulls me into another hug, and I hug her back. “Me too.”
“I’ll see you soon then.”
I nod, and we say a quick good-bye before she leaves. I close the door behind her. “You really aren’t, are you?”
I nearly jump when I hear Lola behind me and turn around. “Fucking creeper. Eavesdropping?”
“You know it.” She’s holding a coffee cup now and shrugs. “Hayden is on the phone. And yes, I caught the end of your conversation with Mom.”
“I’m not here for Viv.”
“She’s worried.”
She should be. The hot hatred that spread through my body when I first saw her this morning was overpowering. She looked so fucking carefree and happy as she bounced out of her bedroom with Sawyer. Her brown hair, wavy and just barely to her shoulders, all messy and sexy from that fucker’s hands. No bra and a thin shirt that set my senses on high alert, remembering exactly how her full tits felt in my hands, how her nipples would harden for me without me even having to touch her.
“I’m not here for her. I just want to be around Baz as much as I can be. That’s it.”
“Good. Because he needs you, but he does not need you trying to hurt his mom. Who he loves.”
“Jesus, Lols. I thought you would want me here.”
“I do.” She looks pained, and I feel like an asshole. “I’m so glad you’re here, but I love Viv too. And I don’t want her to be uncomfortable. This is her home too.”
“I won’t hurt her. She can just stay the fuck out of my way, and we’ll be fine. It shouldn’t be too hard.”
“Right. You’re living in the same house.”
I shrug. “She seems to be busy riding Sawyer’s dick these days. That and working for you and being a mom. There won’t be any time for me to torment her.”
“Asher.” My name is a cool warning coming from my big sister.
I hold up my hands in surrender. “I won’t do anything.”
“Good.” She hugs me with her free hand and then releases me, taking a drink of coffee. “I really am glad you’re here. Do you need anything?”
“Nope. I’m all set.”
She smiles, taking another drink of her coffee. “Well, my house is yours. And Viv’s. And Baz’s. Make yourself at home and be good.”
“I’m always good.”
She rolls her eyes and walks up the stairs.
I meant what I said.
I’m here to spend time with Baz, not to torture Viv. Of course, if that happens . . . that’s just a bonus.
Okay, I can handle this. I will handle this.
There was a time when, I admit, I was weak. I knew nothing about the world. I was young and inexperienced. I got in over my head, and I let things get out of control. I let Asher Sterling be my weakness in the past, but never again.
I’m stronger now. I’ve learned a lot about myself in the past year. I don’t have to do the right thing according to anyone else. I need to do what feels right to me.
I take a deep breath, leaving Baz to play with Hayden and Lola in the living room as I walk back toward the room Asher is staying in.
You can do this.
He cannot make you weak unless you let him.
I raise my hand and knock quietly on his door, half hoping he doesn’t answer. Of course, he does though. He pulls the door open and stands in the doorway, his eyes dark and narrowed on me. “What?”
He really does hate me. I try not to let that slice through me and stand as tall as I can. “Can we please talk?”
“Talk about what?”
“There was a time we were friends. We were incredibly close.”
He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t smirk. He rolls his eyes and scoffs coldly. “It’s impossible not to be close with my cock inside your—”
I quickly hold up a hand and cut him off. “Stop. You know what I mean.”
“No. It was just fucking for me.” He says it so casually, and I hate his words and how cold he’s become.
“Fine. It wasn’t for me.”
His gaze is cold, and he folds his arms, still not offering to let me into his room so we can talk.
“I’m sorry.” It’s not easy to say, but it’s something I know I should have said a long time ago.
“You’re sorry?”
His voice is filled with tension, and it makes my stomach ache. “Yes. I’m sorry for the way I left. I shouldn’t have done it that way.”
“You mean with zero warning and ripping Baz away from me with a two second good-bye. Not even giving me a chance to get used to the idea?”
I don�
�t want to think about that day. I know it was horrible.
“You were torturing me. You wanted to hurt me, Asher.”
Now he laughs, but it is cold and almost vile. “I wanted to hurt you? Are you really that fucking delusional?”
He drops his arms and leaves the doorway. I follow him, closing the door behind me, knowing how heated this could get and not wanting Baz to hear us arguing. “You were punishing me for going out on a date with Sawyer.”
“Punishing you? By fucking you?” His body crowds mine as my back rests against the now closed door. “If you would have told me to stop, I would have.” His lips curl up, satisfied. “But you never said no. Not once.”
I feel my chest rising at an almost unhealthy rate in reaction to his proximity. I hate how familiar his scent is.
No.
I put my hand up between us and press against his chest, pushing him away from me to give myself room to think.
“You weren’t interested in a relationship with me. I wanted you, and you didn’t want me. So I found someone else.”
“My best fucking friend,” he snaps.
“I didn’t think you would care.”
He looks angry and confused as he glares at me. “How the fuck did you think that would be okay? There’s a code you don’t fuck with.”
“If we had been dating and you were in love with me . . .” I point to his chest where his heart beats. And I know the exact rhythm of that heart from the many nights I spent resting on his chest. “But you weren’t. You made it very clear to me and to Sawyer that you weren’t in love with me. That it was just sex. So why the hell did you care so damn much about your friend dating your sex buddy?”
I challenge him, and I can tell he doesn’t like it. His eyes flash with anger, but I don’t care. “It’s still fucked-up.”
“Why?” I raise an eyebrow.
He grits his teeth. “Fine. So, you didn’t feel safe there with me. I would have moved out.” His voice is strained, and I hear the pain in his words. “You could have asked me to move out.”
“I couldn’t be that close to you. I needed space.”
“You took him from me.”
“I’m sorry.” I feel my own anguish, knowing how badly I hurt him. “I thought you’d be okay. I thought it would all be okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem like you.”
“Maybe you don’t know me,” he shoots back, and maybe he’s right. Maybe I never really knew him.
“Ash . . .” I start, but I’m uncertain about what I want to say.
“Stop,” he cuts me off. “I’m not here for you. I’m here for Baz and Baz only. You and Sawyer keep it down, and we’re good.”
I don’t believe him. I mean, I know he’s here for Baz, but I can feel how upset he is with me. I think about last night with Sawyer in my bed with Asher next door, trying not to cringe. “I didn’t know you were here or . . .”
Again, he cuts me off and shrugs his large shoulders. “You know what? Don’t even worry about keeping it down.” He lifts his t-shirt from his body, and I freeze, trying not to let my gaze drift over his muscular body that’s only gotten better over the last year. “I don’t really mind listening to you moan. Kind of nostalgic.”
Asshole.
He grabs a black button-down shirt and pulls it over his shoulders, starting to button it. “There are no rules here. You have Sawyer, and I'll have whoever.”
I fold my arms. “I don’t have Sawyer.”
Why did I say that?
His eyebrows pinch together as he finishes buttoning his shirt. “I’m pretty sure you had him last night.”
I huff. “I mean there’s no relationship there with him.”
Shut. Up. Viv.
He shrugs his shoulders again, seemingly unaffected by that bit of information. “Not surprising, but what the fuck was the last year?” Then he smiles. “He really was just my replacement, huh?”
I shake my head, so irritated I want to scream. He told me Sawyer would just be a replacement for him. I don’t want him thinking that. “No. We were taking it slow.”
He laughs with no humor. “Yeah. Sawyer doesn’t do slow.” He runs a comb through his hair. “And he doesn’t do commitment. Guess you found that out.”
Smug bastard. I shouldn’t have given him an edge, and I have no idea why I did. It just never really evolved into an actual relationship with Sawyer. We care about each other, but I think it’s become pretty clear to both of us that it’ll never be love.
“It wasn’t just him.” I try to throw my own nonchalance out there, but I can’t pull it off as well as he can. “I’m young, and I'm not so sure I want to be in a fully committed relationship. I like the idea of dating around.”
“Huh.” That’s all the asshole says as he places the comb back on the dresser and turns to face me.
“Huh?”
“Maybe you are a Tinder girl after all.” He walks closer to me, his scent invading my senses and threatening to make me stupid all over again. “Then again, you were awfully sure you wanted commitment with me.”
I glare at him. “Stupid moment of weakness. Clearly, I was completely wrong.”
He just chuckles. “Yeah, well. This was fun, but I’m late for my date.”
“Date?” Is he fucking serious?
“Yeah.” He smirks, but it’s missing the playfulness it used to contain. “Date.”
“You’ve been here for less than twenty-four hours.”
“The flight attendant was super friendly.” He heads for the door, tugging it open before looking back at me over his shoulder. “Don’t believe what they say about California. I find it has some super nice people.” He waves as he turns to leave. “Have fun with Sawyer. And Tinder or whatever the fuck.”
He leaves, and I stand there, dumbfounded.
Maybe he doesn’t hate me after all. Maybe he really is just indifferent.
What the fuck is she trying to do to me? Telling me she’s sorry? Telling me she and Sawyer aren’t in a relationship?
What in the ever-loving fuck?
She moved here for him. And now they aren’t even a couple?
She’s just using him like she used me. Or is she lying? Is she in love with him and he won’t commit to her?
That I could definitely see. Sawyer is a hell of a lot like me. He never wanted a relationship, and then all of a sudden, he was Mr. Commitment?
I never bought that shit for a second.
Fuck!
I don’t care. I don’t want to fucking care.
I climb into the convertible that pulls up in front of Lola’s and smile at the pretty flight attendant from my flight from Kansas. I have no idea what she saw in me last night to be honest. I was clearly fucked-up on the whiskey I downed before my flight, but she couldn’t stop batting her eyelashes and flirting.
“Hey, handsome.”
“Hey.” It comes out gritty and curt, not flirtatious. I’m struggling as she pulls away from Lola’s, not seeming to care that I'm a moody motherfucker.
I want to dive into easy. Not complicated.
I want to look at the blond in the seat next to me with painted pink lips and a sundress and not see dark hair or the t-shirt and jean shorts Viv was wearing when she cornered me in my room with her “apology.”
I don’t want to see betrayal and fuckery.
I want to laugh, get laid, and fucking forget. “Where are we going?”
She hops on the highway. “I thought we could get something to eat. Maybe go to a club.”
Yawn. But I don’t say it. “Sounds good.”
How the fuck are Sawyer and Viv not dating? Is she fucking other guys? If Sawyer isn’t actually trying to be in a relationship, then I'm sure he’s fucking around.
That motherfucker doesn’t know the definition of monogamy.
“So . . . How’s your sister?”
I told her I was here visiting my sister. Not that I moved here. Not looking for anything more than t
onight, and she seemed down for it.
“She’s good.”
She’s more than good. She’s so fucking happy. And I can’t hate Hayden. He makes her so damn happy and somehow fits into the whole fucked-up family effortlessly. Even if he lied about who he was at first.
That was some soap opera drama shit, but somehow, they work.
And when he punched me in the face twice at Penelope and Linc’s wedding, I liked him even more.
God, I just wanted the pain on the inside to stop. I wanted the sickening misery to dissipate even a little bit. That second punch did it.
For a second, I was focused on the physical pain and not the crippling emotional anguish that follows me fucking everywhere.
Pain from my brother dying way too young. From my family moving on and forgetting him. From Penelope and Linc marrying each other when it was always supposed to be Penelope and Colt. The crushing agony of Viv taking the last shred of family I had left across the country. Video chats and phone calls can never replace waking up and hanging out with Baz in the mornings, eating cereal and watching cartoons with him before school, eating dinner with him and hearing all about his day after school, going swimming and letting him “teach” me how to swim.
She took a full year of that away from me.
She made it seem like she did it so she could be with Sawyer when he got a job in California with Linc. She tore my heart in two, and for fucking what?
Because I didn’t want to marry her? Didn’t want us to become my parents?
My fingers dig into the denim covering my thighs as I struggle to lower my fucking heart rate.
“That’s good. I only have sisters, and they’re both bitches.”
This girl is trying to engage me in conversation, but all I can think about is Viv.
I turn to look at the pretty flight attendant. She’s nice. Simple. Completely uninteresting to me and my fucked-up brain. “You know, I'm not really all that hungry.”
She turns her head briefly to look at me as she drives. “No?” She focuses on the road, and I slide my hand over her bare arm.
“No. How close is your place?” It’s a carnal growl.
She smiles as she ponders my very obvious proposition. “Pretty close.”
I smile at her as she takes the next exit.