He pressed me to his chest, fingers sliding into my hair. “Please tell me I’m the only one she greets like this,” he said to Alba, rubbing circles on my back.
In my peripheral vision, she shook her head slowly. “I get that treatment sometimes. And so does the pizza delivery guy.”
I laughed. That little shit.
“Should’ve brought pizza.” Asher kissed my forehead. “My bike’s downstairs. Want to go for a ride?”
Night rides with him were my favorite—but what was he doing here? He wasn’t due back for three days. I tilted my chin, studying his face. Pale under the foyer light. Worry pinched my stomach.
“Okay,” I said softly. “Let me grab a hoodie.”
I dashed to my room.
“Want me to wait up for you?” Alba asked from the doorway.
I pulled a warm black hoodie from its hanger and tugged it over my shirt. “No. Ash and I will probably be a while.”
Alba yawned. “Okay. Have fun. I’m heading to bed early.”
I shoved my wallet and phone into my pockets. “Buenas noches.”
Asher hugged me tightly in the elevator. “What happened?” I asked. “You must’ve flown here right after the race.”
“Yeah.” His long exhale warmed my temple. “We need to talk.”
My muscles stiffened. Asher gave me a quick squeeze, as if he felt my fear. “No, mi amor, we’re good. I promise. Shitty wording.”
The knot in my stomach lingered even after I climbed onto his bike and he slipped into the stream of traffic. I hugged him tight, drawing comfort from his solid frame and the steady rumble beneath me.
As he accelerated out of downtown Emerport, the blur of streetlights eased some of the worry clawing at me.
We stopped at a hilltop lookout. Three benches faced the guardrail, skyscrapers rising beyond it, the city glittering below.
Asher slid his arm around my shoulders. “Let’s sit.”
I tore my gaze from the winding road beneath us and followed him to the middle bench. Busy during the day—now it was only us.
“What’s going on?” I asked as we sat.
“I saw Miguel.” His voice carried the weight of more than the seven-hour flight. “He came to my race.”
“And?” I covered his hand on his knee with mine. “Did you talk to him?”
He brushed his thumb over my knuckles. “Yeah. He’s changed jobs a lot—now he coaches kids. Said he came to all my races in Spain.”
Anger flared. I remembered every time Asher opened his inbox to nothing. “But he couldn’t answer an email? That makes no sense.”
“He felt guilty, peque.” Asher dragged a hand down his face. “It’s so fucked up I don’t even know how to feel about what he told me. But I promised I wouldn’t keep anything from you.” His voice dropped, ragged. “Your father and my mother had been having an affair. For years. Before my dad died.”
My heart stuttered. “They what?”
“They dated once. Broke up. Then kept circling back to each other. My dad found out the night before the accident.”
An affair? All those business trips, all the times Mom was home alone with me—because of Sharon?
A shiver rattled through me. My chest clamped tight, air sticking in my throat. Shallow inhales. No release.
“Kaia.” Asher cupped my face, his eyes scanning mine. “Can you breathe?”
