“Why, Ash? What if they sanction you? Screw what he said about me. This is your career. The season just started. Why risk everything?”
His jaw tightened, chest rising like he couldn’t hold the words back. “Because I love you!”
The world stopped. My heart missed, stumbled, then thundered as heat crashed into the cold that had hollowed me out. The most infuriating guy in the world had just said… he loved me?
His expression softened, raw edges stripped away. “Don’t look at me like that. I love you. You’re under my skin so deep no one could ever pull you out, peque. And when you love someone, you defend them. Ask me anything, and it’s yours. Just don’t ever ask me to do nothing when someone hurts you. I don’t care that you weren’t there—he deserved what he got.”
“I love you too.” The words broke out, ragged with a sob. I’d carried them for so long I almost couldn’t believe I finally got to set them free.
Asher cupped my face, thumbs stroking across my cheeks as if to anchor me. “And I’m the luckiest because of that.”
I kissed him, tentative at first, but his answering heat burned away every doubt. His tongue teased mine, his hand sliding to the small of my back, tugging me closer until I melted against him. He hummed when I deepened the kiss, and it vibrated straight through me.
When he finally pulled away, his voice gentled. “You need sleep, mi niña.” He brushed a strand of hair from my face. “Your test is important. I don’t want you scoring low because of me.”
If I did, it wouldn’t be because of him. Still, I grabbed my textbook and nodded. “Okay.”
“Go in first,” Asher said. “In case someone’s up.”
One last glance, one last breathless beat, and I stepped inside with my heart so full it nearly spilled over.
He loved me.
***
“How did it go?” my classmate Jill asked outside school the next day. I only shrugged.
“Aw. Don’t worry. You can retake it.”
She was right, but it wasn’t my first try. Her father wouldn’t lose his shit if she scored low. Mine would.
The language part hadn’t been catastrophic, but math wrecked me. It was like the months I’d spent hunched over textbooks had vanished. Lack of sleep hadn’t helped. Neither had worrying about Asher. He was racing this weekend, but what if his head wasn’t in it? What if he crashed? He’d left before I woke, wished me luck by text, but I hadn’t heard his voice and had no idea how he really felt.
“Thanks,” I told Jill. “I’ll definitely retake it. At least now I know I need to study harder.”
She chuckled. “It’s never too much practice, right? Don’t stress. Hey, need a ride? My parents will be here in five.”
I scanned the lot. Sharon’s car was already waiting. “No, thanks. My father’s girlfriend’s here.”
“Cool. It’ll be fine—you’ll see.”
We said goodbye, and I slid into the passenger seat. Sharon gave me a conspiratorial smile. “So, should we go celebrate? I’m sure you aced it.”
She seemed to have erased last night from memory. I hadn’t. And failures weren’t cause for celebration. I shook my head, wincing. “I’ve got a bad headache. I’d rather nap.”
She started the car. “Oh. Okay, then. Your dad will meet me at the mall after the race. You sure you don’t want to come?”
“Positive.” Going to the mall only to hear my father tear into me before even seeing the results? No, thanks. He always expected me to fail—this time, he’d be right.
Sharon didn’t try to fill the ride with chatter, and she didn’t object when I said I was going to lie down. I drew the curtains and slipped under the duvet, praying my brain would finally shut off.
A few hours later, the familiar scent and strong arms pulling me against a hard chest woke me.
“Ash.” I tried to sit up, but he held me tighter.
“Don’t move. I want to stay like this.”
I turned to face him. “How was the race?”
