The familiar chords ofThe Middleby Jimmy Eat World fill the room. I hesitate, just for a breath, then decide: if this is all I get with him, then I want to feel it all.
I take his hand, and the moment it closes around mine, everything shifts. I crash into his chest and we both laugh. He spins me, the world tilting with him, and then he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, head bobbing along with the beat.
I throw my arms above my head, eyes closed, letting the music and the moment pour through me. When I open them, he’s wrapped his tie around his head like a bandana, dancing like he’s straight out of an ‘80s teen movie, all limbs and abandon.
He turns to me, shouting lyrics completely off-key:
“Live right now, and just be yourself,”
He points dramatically.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s good enough, for someone else!”
I scream the lyrics back and jump onto the nearest chair, arms flailing like a rockstar in a dive bar. Asher follows suit, stepping up onto his with a wild grin as the guitar kicks off. We both leap down together, howling laughter echoing between the stone walls and the firelight.
He catches me. Holds me close. One hand pressed between my shoulder blades, the other curled around my waist like he’s afraid I might disappear. Our foreheads meet, breath shared, hearts almost too loud in our chests. His eyes burn into mine as he sings the next line, softer now.
“It just takes some time, little girl, you’re in the middle of the ride…Everything, everything will be alright,”
He’s not looking at me. Not really. He’sseeingme, in a way no one else has. Even drunk, even messy, he’s trying to hold me together with only his voice.
A new song pulses through the speakers, but we don’t move. We’re caught in a hush between beats, tethered by something thick and unnamed.
And then he lowers his face.
I should pull away. I should. But I don’t. I want this,God, I want this. His lips brush mine and time holds its breath. It starts soft, almost cautious, until I loop my arms around his neck and pull him down to me.
That’s when everything breaks.
The kiss deepens into something wild, hungry, all tongue and teeth and the taste of whiskey. His hands run over my sides, gentle and searching, but the way he kisses me is anything but. It’s a contradiction, fire and tenderness in the same breath. Like he’s trying to unravel me and put me back together at the same time.
But then…
Guilt.
Sharp and immediate, slicing through the lust like ice water.You’re kissing Asher Vander.The boy you’re lying to. The one whose sister’s name is inked to your secrets. The boy who will never forgive you if he finds out.
I break the kiss, chest heaving, eyes wide. He frowns, leans in again, but I stop him with a hand pressed to his chest. His arms stay around me, holding tight.
He whispers, “Are you okay?”
I shake my head. No. No, I’m not. The alcohol is messing with my sense of logic, but not enough to erase the facts. I want him, but I need the truth more.
If I can’t have him the way I want, then maybe… maybe he can still help me.
“I think Bronwyn is the latest in a long line of girls to go missing,” My voice cracks. “And someone’s covering it up,”
The room stills. The fire seems quieter. Asher steps back just enough to inspect me, brows furrowed as the alcohol fog starts to burn away. His jaw tightens, muscles ticking, as the gravity sinks in.
Marlowe’s name sits on the tip of my tongue. My sister. My motive. Mytruth.
Would he understand, if I told him? If he knew everything, every lie, and every omission, would he still be here, holding me like this?
I study his face.
And in the flickering firelight, I watch the shift: confusion, then anger, and finally, a quiet, exhausted kind of acceptance.
His shoulders fall with a sigh.
