“Really?” Blythe asked, though she’d already been told the same thing from nearly everyone at the party, including Grandmother Lorene twice now.
“You make him happy. I can see it. I know.” She took Blythe’s hand, squeezing it in her own. Blythe stared at the translucent skin, purple veins peeking out. “Today’s my eightieth birthday party.”
“I know,” Blythe patronized her. “Happy birthday.”
She smiled sadly. “It seems like just last year I was seventeen and falling in love with my husband, Asher’s grandfather. Then I was twenty-three with two babies on my hips. Then, I blinked and this could be my last birthday.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s not—”
“That’s the way life goes,” Grandmother Lorene went on, misty tears in her gray eyes. “You make all these plans and think you have all this time. One minute you’re planning and the next thing you know you’re looking back over it all—at the things you never did, and the things you’d do anything to do again—wondering why you wasted any time making plans when you could’ve been living. You think you have time, Blythe, but next week you’ll be my age.” She smiled sadly. “Just…live the best you can, as much as you can, with every second you’re given.” She pulled her in and kissed her cheek. “This could be your life, sweetheart. And what a life it is.”
When she pulled away, she squeezed Blythe’s hand one last time before turning around and darting after a tray of spinach puffs. Blythe met Asher’s eyes through the crowd, his face showing concern. She offered up a small smile, trying to hide the tears that had filled her own eyes. One minute you’re planning and the next thing you know you’re looking back over it all, wondering why you wasted any time making plans when you could’ve been living.
With Grandmother Lorene’s words echoing in her head, she thought of her own parents, dead in their mid-forties. They’d made plans. When Blythe graduated, they were going to go on a cruise. Her mother was planning to get her hair cut short for the summer. Her father wanted to buy that new tractor he’d been saving up for. They’d made plans—big and small—and in the end, life didn’t seem to care too much about what they hadn’t had time to do.
Chapter Fourteen
When the party was over, the family had a glass of wine together on the balcony, with Mona toasting to the newest ‘member of the family’ as her eyes twinkled toward Blythe. Once the glasses were empty, Asher began yawning and informed them that they’d had a long drive and they were going to retire ‘early.’
In what world one a.m. was considered early, Blythe wasn’t sure, but she went with it, saying goodbye to the family and heading out the door with her arm through Asher’s.
They walked in silence until they reached their cabin door. Before he opened it, he stopped, staring at her in the moonlight. Shadows covered half of his face and crickets chirped all around them, reminding her of home. It was eerily quiet there, the air thicker somehow.
“I hope tonight wasn’t too much,” he said softly, interrupting her thoughts. “I know my family can be…overbearing, but they mean well.”
“No. Asher, it wasn’t too much. Your family…well, they’re pretty great.”
“That’s a stretch,” he teased, pushing open the door and letting her in first. “But they really seemed to like you.”
“They did?” she asked, though she already assumed. Unless they were tremendous actors.
“Yeah,” he said. “I was instructed to make sure you come to the next family function.”
“Do you guys do stuff like this a lot?”
He slipped off his jacket and laid it on the back of a rocking chair. “Once or twice a year, maybe. I haven’t made it home in the past few years, though.”
“Why?” she asked, sitting down in the chair. He sat on the edge of the coffee table, leaning over so that his knees were in front of hers.
“It’s just…I was stupid growing up. I made a lot of dumb decisions, and there’s a lot of…baggage in our relationship.”
“They love you, Asher. Even I could see that.”
“No, they do. It’s just…you know. Rebellious teenage stuff that I’d rather not deal with now that I’m mature.” He dusted his shoulder playfully.
“So, it’s awkward?”
He nodded, his lips in a firm line.
“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?” she asked, her voice low.
He scowled. “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”
“I asked you first.”
“You don’t want to know that side of me, Blythe.”
“I do,” she told him, placing a hand on his knee. “I want to know you. All of you.”
He sighed. “Fine, but don’t say you didn’t ask for it. I stole my dad’s friend’s car once. I was high on God knows what, and I drove it into the side of a restaurant.”
She covered her lips with her fingertips. “Oh my God. Was anyone…”
“No one was hurt. Luckily they were closed for repairs and there was minimal damage, but my dad was furious. Threatened to take me out of the will if I didn’t get my shit together. And he was right to do it, too. But he lost a lot of business from that friend.”
“What does your dad do, exactly?”
“Uh-uh,” he said, waving a finger. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this so easily. Worst thing. Your turn.”
She closed her eyes. “When I was seventeen, I ran away from home.”
“What? Like, suitcase packed full of crackers and juice ran away from home or legitimately ran away?”
“My boyfriend and I tried to cross state lines with fake IDs to get married.”
Asher’s jaw dropped. “Did you?”
The corner of her mouth drew up into a grimace. “No. I chickened out. I didn’t know what would happen if we got caught. But we were gone for three days. My parents called the police and everything.”
“Wow,” he said, staring over her shoulder as he took in what she was telling him. “I guess we both did some pretty fucked up shit.”
“It is the teenage curse.”
He nodded, standing up and lifting her hand into the air, pulling her into his chest. “Enough about being teenagers, I have some very adult activities planned for us upstairs.”
“Oh, you do, do you?” She smirked, lifting her chin so that her lips could brush his.
He let out a soft moan, rolling his head back before pulling her upstairs with passion in his eyes. There were three doors, but Asher didn’t bother showing her around as he led her into the one on the right, shutting it behind them as he flipped on the light. There was a beautiful, king-size wooden bed against the far wall. Its headboard looked completely custom, and Blythe guessed it probably cost more than she would spend on her entire future house’s furniture. It was covered with a white comforter and plush, decorative pillows.
Quieting her thoughts, his lips collided with hers, unbuttoning his dress shirt and loosening his belt. It wasn’t the first time they’d been together, but for some reason everything about this time felt brand new. He pulled her shirt over her head, his hands cupping her head as he bit her bottom lip. His mouth moved to her neck, his tongue warm on her skin and the sound of his breath in her ear. He flipped off the light, laying her down in near-darkness, only a sliver of moonlight creeping through the curtains on the window. She laid in bed, waiting as she heard his shoes coming off, and then his pants.
In an instant, he was back on top of her, his mouth on her chest as his hands toyed with her skirt, trying to find the zipper on the side. When he located it, he pulled the zipper down with such force she half wondered if he’d broken it, but she couldn’t bring herself to care as his fingers made their way to her panties.
He was naked on top of her, and she could feel his excitement for her against her thigh. He pulled the straps of her bra down, freeing up her breasts as he placed his mouth over them, one by one, taking his time as the moans escaped her throat involuntarily.
She moved to take h
er panties off, but he stopped her, lowering himself so that his mouth was over the fabric. She could feel his hot breath against her skin, her hips rising and falling as he teased her.
She tried again to remove them, but this time he pinned her hands down, keeping his mouth between her legs. When he spoke, his lips danced against her most sensitive area.
“Not yet, baby. You’re all mine tonight.” He kissed the fabric. “I’m all yours.” Kiss. “And this night is all ours.”
Chapter Fifteen
“One green tea and one iced coffee please,” Blythe said, holding out the cash as the barista behind the silver street cart began to make the drinks. Blythe took a step back, watching as she worked while lost in thought.
It had been nearly two months since she’d met Asher’s family, and in that time, they’d practically spent every free moment together. Asher had stuck to his word, making sure she knew how committed to her—and only her—he was. She was falling for him, as hard as that was to believe. New York had never been about finding love. And certainly not this quickly. Of course she’d wanted love. She wanted the fairy tale she’d always dreamed of, just like she told Finn, but things were—
“Blythe?” She spun around, looking for the source of the voice in her ear. There he was, as if conjured by the mere thought of him. She hadn’t seen Finn in two months. Hadn’t thought of him in…well, at least a few hours. But there he was. He was filthy, dressed in work boots, muddy clothes, and a hard hat. He slid the hat off, staring at her in disbelief. “W-what, what are you doing here?”
“I’m, um,” she swallowed, taking the drinks from the barista as she held them out, “getting coffee.”
“I can see that,” he said. “Two.”
She stepped out of the line of people, her breathing shallow as she waited for him to say something. Anything. “Mhm.” Her face burned from his presence, her heart racing in her chest.
“So, I guess that means you two made up, huh?”
“What?”
“Two coffees,” he said again, gesturing toward the cups in her hands.
“Oh.” She shook her head to clear her jumbled thoughts. “Um, yeah. Yeah, we made up.”
He swallowed and, try as she might to read his expression, she couldn’t. He was stone. Unreadable. Or perhaps just emotionless. “That’s good,” he said finally.
“Are you…I mean, is everything good…with you?”
He nodded. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just got off work.”
“I figured,” she said, moving one cup-filled hand up and down slightly toward his attire.
“Right.” A soft laugh escaped his throat, and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t make her stomach twist into a knot. “Well, I’m glad it all worked out for you, then.” He lifted his hat from his side slightly in a small salute. “I’ll, uh, I’ll be seeing you.”
“Finn?” she asked before he could turn around.
“Yeah?” His eyes met hers, and they were softer somehow. Hopeful.
“Weren’t you coming to get coffee?” she asked, pointing to the cart with her thumb.
He stared at it for a minute and then looked back to her. “No. Er, well, maybe. But…I’m just going to head home.”
“Don’t let me run you off,” she said, her tone defensive. “I was just leaving.”
He frowned. “You aren’t running me off, Blythe. It was…it was really good to see you, actually.”
“It was?”
“Yeah.” The small smile on his face told her he meant it. But then why had he pushed her away? Why had he made her decision so easy? If he hadn’t forced her to leave, there was a very real chance she would’ve never gone back to Asher. Not that she wasn’t happy—she was. But could she be happier? She’d never know now.
“Well, it was good to see you, too.”
“I’m glad everything worked out for you.”
“Who says it did?” she asked.
“Didn’t it?”
“Asher’s a good guy,” she told him. “He’s made a really big effort to show me he’s serious about us.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” His mouth contorted in thought. “Are you happy?”
“Do you care?” she asked, her voice so soft that he had to lean in to hear her.
He was still for a moment. “I do. But I shouldn’t.”
“Because you’re dangerous?”
“Because I put you in danger.”
“I’m a big girl, Finn. I can take care of myself.”
“You shouldn’t have to. If this guy makes you happy, you should be with him.”
She nodded. “Well, he does.”
“Good.”
Her lips squeezed into a thin line as she tried to think of what to say next. He was being stubborn. Difficult. He obviously had secrets. Asher was easy. Simple. Fun. And he cared about her. So, why couldn’t she keep herself from hoping that Finn would keep talking? Why did she want more with a man who’d made it clear there was no future to be had with him?
“Okay, I’m going to go,” he said finally, letting out a loud sigh. “I’ll see you around.”
“See you,” she whispered, watching him walk out of sight. Her phone chimed in her pocket, breaking her trance, and she glanced down, knowing it would be Asher wondering where she was. With her hands full, she had no way of checking it, but she turned and walked back toward his apartment in a hurry. He was just leaving work and, with any luck, she was going to surprise him.
* * *
“Hey, stranger,” Asher said, pulling her in for a kiss as soon as he saw her. He took his iced coffee from her hand. “I was hoping I’d get to see you tonight.”
They walked up the stairs, hand in hand, as she took a sip of her drink. “Sorry,” she told him. “I wanted to respond to your message, but it came through as soon as both of my hands were occupied.”
He lowered his brow. “I didn’t text you.”
“You didn’t?” she asked. “Well, I wonder who it was, then?” As they reached his floor, she pulled the phone from her pocket, turning it over so she could read the screen. “How was work?” she asked, before her eyes registered what she was seeing.
“You’ll never guess who scored a brand new, million-dollar account,” he said proudly, turning the key in his door and pushing it open so she could enter.
She stared at the screen, only half listening to what had been said. The text message was from Finn. He’d put his phone number in her phone the second night she stayed with him, and it had been in there tormenting her ever since. She teetered between texting him and deleting it completely just about every day.
It read, Come by my place tonight. It won’t take long. I’ll be there until 8.
What could he possibly want? And why didn’t he just tell her to her face when she saw him? He’d been texting her as he walked away. Was that really easier than just talking to her?
“Hello? Are you listening?”
She jerked her head up. “Sorry, Asher. I’m sorry. What’d you say?”
The smile fell from his face. “Is everything okay?”
She exited out of the text message. “It’s just…it’s work.”
“Do you need to go?”
She bit her lip. “I think so.”
“What do you mean you think?”
As she slid the phone back into her pocket, she pulled him in for a kiss. “I’m sorry. I do have to go. I’ll try to come back, though.”
He nodded skeptically. “Okay…well, thanks for the coffee, I guess. You’re sure everything’s okay?”
She smiled, trying to reassure him while hiding the worry from her own face. What did Finn want? What was he going to say to her? What did she want him to say? “Everything’s fine,” she promised.
“Okay, be careful. I love you,” he said, walking further into the apartment.
She froze, his words slamming into her chest so hard they could’ve knocked her down. “What?”
He turned back around, his face ashen,
jaw dropped open. “Oh my God. I…um…I didn’t—shit. It just slipped out.”
“You…you love me?” she asked, a lump rising in her throat. It had been so long since anyone had said those words to her. Did he mean them? Did she want him to?
He swallowed, running a thumb under his nose. “I…” A small smile crept onto his lips. “Yeah, Blythe, I do. I love you. I know it’s fast. I mean, two months is…well, it’s no time at all, but…I’ve never felt for anyone the way I feel about you. When I’m not with you, I’m thinking about you, and when I am with you, I’m thinking about how I never want you to leave.”
Her jaw fell open and she sucked in a breath, suddenly unable to form words.
“You don’t have to say it back,” he whispered, his voice showing more vulnerability than she’d ever heard from him. “But I wanted you to know.”
“Asher…I—”
“Go on to work,” he told her, kissing her cheek. “I’ll be here if you want to come back by.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Her chest was tight as she turned to walk away, her emotions conflicted. She should stay. She should tell him that nothing is more important than the three words he just said to her, but she’d be lying to him—and herself—if she said she wasn’t curious what Finn could want. And so, she walked down the stairs, listening to his door shut behind her and wondering if she was making the biggest mistake of her life.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, she was climbing up the last flight of stairs toward Finn’s apartment. Apprehension filled her gut, but she knew there was a small bit of hope in there, too. A bit of hope she was learning to hate with every passing step.
When she got to his door, it was cracked open. She hesitated, wondering for just a moment if it might be a trap, but without allowing herself to think too much, she pushed it open.
“Finn?” she called. As she entered the apartment, a gasp escaped her throat. It was empty. The couch, the TV, all of his furniture was gone. Had he been robbed? She turned around, her breath suddenly too loud in the silent apartment.
The Better Choice Page 8
