I test the boundaries further when I lean in and bring my lips to his, soft, the way he kissed me in his bedroom. He lets me do it, but he doesn’t kiss me back. Not at first. I hear him set his glass down on the side table, before he brings up both hands to wrap around my waist and pull me to him. And I guess I could blame this on alcohol. I could blame it on circumstance. Anything other than the truth.
Asher kisses me back now, like he did in the hot tub. Deeply, passionately. He leans back onto the couch and I crawl on top and swing one leg over him to grind my hips into his, eliciting an immediate reaction from him. He slides his hand up my backside, lifting the dress, as his other hand unties the silky fabric from around my neck. The dress falls down the front of me, exposing my chest. Asher kisses down my jaw and neck as I unbutton his shirt in a frenzy.
“This is wrong, isn’t it,” he says in between kisses.
“Yes,” I breathe, but I hardly know what I’m agreeing to, andthe yes sounds more like a moan. I think he likes the way it sounds because he lays me down, continuing the trail of his lips along my skin. His fingers trace my inner thigh, moving dangerously up, and I arch my back in a silent answer.
His breath is hot on my skin when he says, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“We—” But I don’t finish the sentence as his mouth moves over my nipple and his fingers are pushing my underwear to the side. I suck in a breath. “We...” I try again but I don’t even know what I’m saying. What did he say? Why are we even talking?
When he runs a finger through me I’m on fire and I hear him curse under his breath. He starts for the buttons on his pants and says again, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Yes,” I breathe again, because that’s all I can manage in this state.
He stops moving. “Yes, we shouldn’t be doing this?”
The sound of his voice, no longer heady but clearer, makes me focus. “No.” I shake my head, trying to think of what the right answer to that question is.
“No?” He sits back and looks around like he just woke up from a dream.
“Wait,” I say, sitting up too, but he’s already moving to get up off the couch. I reach for him. “Asher—”
He catches me by the wrists. “No, I don’t want your pity fuck or whatever this is.” He gets up, his shirt now completely unbuttoned, showing his bare chest.
“It’s not that at all. I—”
He grabs his jacket from the floor. “I have to go.” To the resort. He doesn’t have to say it; I already know.
“Asher, wait!” But he’s already gone.
I feel a cold chill wash over me as a slight headache begins to form in my temple. What thefuckwas that, Sloane. I put my head in my hands, trying to breathe, but with him gone, all the thoughts of Miles and murder drift back and the room begins to feel like it’s closing in on me. I can feel my hands become wet with tears and I can’t take another night in here alone. Before I know it I’m down the hall, knocking on the door.
“Sloane?” Wes says when he opens his bedroom door. His green eyes take in my tearstained cheeks and red running nose. “What’s wrong?”
“Can I stay in here with you tonight?”
There are two knocks on the door in the morning, followed by Annica’s voice. “Wes, your mom wants to know what time our flight is today.” She lets herself in and I don’t even have time to hide under the covers before she spots me and stops in the doorway. “Oh.”
I jump up quickly, still in Wesley’s T-shirt and no pants. “Annica,” I start.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” she says in a low voice.
“It’s not what it looks like,” I say, because it’s not. Wes gave me one of his oversized shirts and let me cry until we fell asleep. But Annica is not in the mood for an explanation. She goes to turn around. “Annica, wait!” I follow her into the hall. “Nothing even happened!”
She whirls around to me. “You’re in his bed, wearing his shirt, with no pants on. How could you even continue lying to my face right now?”
“Annica, seriously, nothing happened,” Wes says, coming out into the hall after us.
Annica narrows her eyes, looking between the two of us before landing on me, and there’s realization there. “You’re the girl, aren’t you?”
I shake my head, confused. “What?”
Dani and Jake have come out of their rooms now to see what’s going on.
“The girl! The one him and Marissa are always fighting about, the one he slept with last summer. It’s you, isn’t it? And don’t even fucking lie.”
“Annica,” Dani says, trying to calm her down.
