by Bailey B
“I’m the jerk?” Asher stares at me, shocked. He shakes his head, equal parts frustration and anger passing over his face. “El, everyone knows you two were fucking. Liam bragged to anyone who would listen about how easy it was to get you into bed. How all he had to do was make empty promises you both knew would never come true.”
“You’re lying,” I yell through a pool of tears. I don’t want to believe Liam would do that, even if I know it’s true. I want to hold onto the illusion that he was my best friend who loved me.
“You already know I’m not lying, Ellie.” Asher’s face falls.
The way he’s looking at me, it’s like he can feel my pain and it makes this conversation hurt more. No one should have their heart ripped apart the way mine is.
“I’ve never lied to you, not once, in all the years we’ve known each other.”
I wipe my nose with the back of my hand and sniffle. “You’re right. You just kept things from me, like who your dad is, and became a royal asshole in the process.”
Asher reaches for my arm but I pull it away. His brows furrow and then he sighs. “I know, and I’m sorry. If I could go back in time and change how I’ve treated you, I would. But I’m trying to be a better person, Ellie. And I’m trying to make sure no one fucks with you. Guys are assholes. They’re only after one thing.”
“What about you? Doesn’t that mean you’re only here for one thing too?”
I arch my brows at him and cross my arms again. A feeling burns its way through the darkness eating me up from the inside out. The feeling of desire makes my skin squirm with delight. It’s a feeling I have no business experiencing. I bite my lip and calculate the date in my head. Maybe my period is coming. Maybe that’s why I’m such a mess.
“If I thought I had a shot with you, then maybe.” He smirks and my treacherous heart speeds up. How I can go from angry, to crying, to nervous is beyond me. Thankfully, Asher doesn’t notice because he adds, “But I know better.”
I force the heady butterflies fluttering inside me back into the dark cave they flew out of. I wipe the tears from my cheeks and say, “You humiliated me in the sixth grade, called me shark bait, and made fun of me more times than I can count. Don’t get me started on the daggers you shoot from across the hall. How do you expect me to forget all of that and be your friend, let alone your fake girlfriend, Asher?”
“First of all, I was fifteen for ninety percent of your accusations. I was pissed off at the world and jealous as a mother fucker.”
“Jealous?” Maybe I could accept that excuse if his animosity had been directed towards Liam, or Russell, or any of the guys he hangs out with that have a functioning family with two parents. But me? On the outside, it would appear that I fall into that category, but Asher knows better. He saw firsthand when we were kids how much my dad works. It got so bad last year, Mom thought he was having an affair. My life isn’t anything to be jealous of. “Of what?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Asher shakes his head and climbs off his motorcycle. “What matters is that I’m sorry. For all of it.”
“You hurt my feelings. I know that sounds lame, but I had serious self-esteem issues because of you.” My self-esteem issues are still a problem, but they’re better, so there’s no point in going there.
Asher reaches for my hand and threads his fingers with mine. He steps close, until we’re toe to toe and tilts his head down to look me in the eye. “I’m a dick, but I’m trying, Ellie.”
I glance over to the senior parking lot and scan it for Liam's car. From the looks of things, he's already gone for the day. If Liam were thinking about anybody but himself, he would have offered me a ride home but, as usual, I am forgotten. I look back at Asher, feeling more confused than ever. He was always supposed to be the jerk in our unorthodox trio. So why is he the one waiting for me and not Liam?
“I forgive you, I guess.”
“As for the daggers.” Asher chortles. “Those were always meant for Liam. Never you, Ellie. So...” He reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind my ears. Tiny bolts of electricity zing from his fingers into my chest. My heart skips a beat and I realize there was never any question as to what I was going to do. “Will you reconsider that ride home?”
I take the helmet and climb onto the back of his bike, wrapping my arms around Asher’s waist. He smells good, like freshly sprayed cologne. I close my eyes and breathe him in. I’m treading on dangerous waters, making a deal like this, but I’ll pay the price. Asher hasn’t admitted what he wants from me, but this man always has an angle. Our arrangement benefits him in some way and I will figure out how.
“I should probably get used to this thing.”
“Oh?” he asks. “And why is that?”
“Because no one is going to believe I’m your girlfriend if I’m scared to ride with you.” My stomach drops. Asher’s girlfriend, not Liam’s. Lord, I hope I’m not making a mistake.
Asher looks over his shoulder and smiles. “Girlfriend. Huh?”
“Fake girlfriend, but yeah.”
Asher reaches back and grips my thigh. That zing of electricity, the same one that traveled from my cheek to my chest, shoots to my center. “Things are gonna get fun.”
The doorbell rings and I yell, “It’s open,” without bothering to get up. The only people who come to my house are Maggie—and she’s at work—or Liam and his dad. Either way, they've been around long enough to know the routine: come on in and make yourself at home.
“You look adorable.” Asher chuckles.
I turn my head to the sound of his voice, horrified. Never in a million years did I think Asher Anderson would be at my house on a Friday night. For one, there’s the issue with our parents that he seems to have forgotten. But also, I imagine curling up at seven PM with a rom-com and a half-empty bowl of popcorn isn’t his thing.
I reach for one of the three throw blankets Mom keeps on the couch to cover up with. I’m not indecent, but the flannel Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer pajama pants I’m wearing aren’t exactly flattering and, most importantly, I’m not wearing a bra. I’m sure Asher has seen his fair share of boobs, but the thought of him seeing my nipples through my red tank top is unnerving.
“What are you doing here?”
Asher glides across my living room and lifts my stretched out legs to sit on the far end of the couch. I pull my knees in to give him more space, but he grabs my ankles and sets my feet in his lap. At first, I'm too stunned to pull them back, but then he speaks and my stomach drops. “It’s been a week. We have a double date with Liam and Corah. Remember?”
“Oh, no, we do not!”
The last thing I want to do is hang around with those two tonight. I'm used to Liam cuddling in the hallway and occasionally giving his girlfriend of the moment a quick kiss. With Corah, though, every time I turn around, they’re in a full-blown make out session. Her hands are always on him, roaming his body. Hair. Shoulders. Stomach. Between his legs. It makes me physically sick to watch.
Asher smiles and reaches for my green fuzzy-sock-clad foot. He digs his thumb into the sole of my heel and rubs out knots I didn't know existed. My head falls back against the armrest of the couch, a quiet moan escaping my lips.
I close my eyes and let myself forget that, a little over a week ago, this wouldn’t have been possible because I severely disliked Asher. I wouldn’t say hate, because there were times he surprised me, but it was close.
I will say that Asher has blown me away the past two weeks. If he ever decided to have a girlfriend, for real, he’d be a pretty great boyfriend. He’s abandoned our old lunch table, with Liam and the cheerleaders, to sit with me and my friends at the far end of the cafeteria. Whenever he gets the chance, which is more often than I expected, he finds me in the hallway to escort me to class, all while trying to hold my hand. And, much to my surprise, every time he touches my skin, something deep inside me stirs to life. Feelings I’d squandered years ago rear their ugly heads, and I don’t like it.
“El?�
�� Asher queries, his voice soft and soothing.
“Hmm?” I don’t want to open my eyes. When I do I’ll have to acknowledge the feelings inside me by pretending they don't exist. I thought fake dating Asher would be easy—I haven’t liked him since fifth grade, haven't even considered us friends since sixth—but separating what’s real and what’s not is turning out to be harder than I thought.
Asher switches to my other foot and I melt deeper into the couch.
“Will you please come to Kyler’s party with me tonight? Now that I have a fake girlfriend, I’ll look like a total dick if I go without you.”
I exhale a heavy breath and open my eyes. I’ve been to a total of two parties during my high school life and both were disasters. I expect tonight to be no different. I rarely drink and don’t have the patience for blubbering idiots. Also, when Liam brought me, I would end up ditched and have to find a way home. Asher looks at me, patiently waiting for my response with my foot in his hand.
“I'm not the party type.” I’m sure he already knows this. Just like he knows why I don’t like going out.
“Me either.”
That can’t be true. All Asher does on the weekends is party and find girls to swap spit with. Along with other juices.
“Between football and work, I haven’t gone to a party since January. I’ve worked every spare minute I could during the season. Now that it’s over, I’m supposed to cover the weekend shift, but I convinced my manager at Lindy’s Diner to give me Friday nights off until the end of the semester. People need to see us together, outside of school, to believe we are a real couple.” Asher sets my foot down but still holds onto my legs.
“Do you think that’s necessary? Things have been fine the past few weeks. Maybe we should keep them how they are.” I’m having a hard time grappling with the fact that if Asher is telling the truth, he doesn’t fit into the mold I’ve crafted for him. It’s jarring. First Asher is sweet and considerate and now he doesn’t party. What’s next? Is his revolving door of girls a lie too?
“Are you ashamed to be seen with me, Ellie?”
“Not ashamed, just getting used to it,” I confess. “You’ve got to admit, this is weird.”
Asher shakes his head and flashes a playful smile.
I tuck my lips between my teeth, fighting a grin of my own. When he looks at me like this, I don’t see the jerk who thought picking on me was funny. I see the kid I used to watch movies with after school. The kid who braided my hair and ate all the chocolate chip cookies then blamed me so he wouldn’t get in trouble. I miss that Asher.
“Not weird, Ellie. This is fate. We were always supposed to be in each other’s lives. We just got a little off track.”
“If we’re going to do this, go to parties and be together outside of school, there needs to be rules.” Because if I don’t set some kind of guidelines, this could go horribly wrong. The last thing I need is to be caught in a whirlwind of hormones and let Asher down my pants. I’m human. I have needs.
But not with him.
“Rules are meant to be broken.”
“Asher,” I warn. He may be a rule-breaker, but I’m not. I’ve never smoked a cigarette, let alone tried drugs. I’ve never stolen anything, not even on accident; I’ve never even skipped school. Asher can break all the rules he wants, but not when it comes to me.
“Fine. Fine.” He exhales a sigh of impatience but, judging by the smile on his face, it's all for show. “Lay them on me.”
“I just have one.” Or ten, but I figure we should start with the big one and add more as needed. So far, Asher has been sweet, caring, and most importantly, respectful, but we’ve been at school. There’s only so much you can do with hallway monitors around every corner. In the outside world, there’s no telling what could happen, which is why I’m starting with the big one.
“Really?” One dark eyebrow arches. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Well, we’ve already kissed. So, people are going to expect more of that, and you’re not exactly known for keeping your hands to yourself.” I pause to gauge his reaction. True or not, Asher is rumored to be as much of a player as Liam. People may not be questioning the validity of our relationship yet, but if we go to a party and he’s not touching me somewhere scandalous, they will be. “So, your only rule is: above the clothes.”
“Really?” Asher pushes my legs open and scoots between them, close enough to make my heart race but still leaving a few inches between us. His eyes take me in, scanning their way from my belly button to my face. He’s got a look, one that matches how I’m feeling: confused, anxious, and a little turned on.
“What?” I laugh, nervously.
Asher stays there for a breath, likely gauging my reaction. I bet he expects me to push him away. I won’t, because I need to get used to him being this close if we’re going to pull this off, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to throw myself at the man and invite his tongue down my throat.
“Can’t handle being this close to me?”
Asher’s playful grin turns sinister. He runs his hand over the inside of my thigh, stopping dangerously close to my center and the air gets caught in my lungs. Warmth radiates from his hand to my core. It’s been weeks since Liam and I had sex. I’ve handled things myself in his absence, but feeling Asher's fingers makes me shudder in delight. “So, I can do this?”
I swallow hard but hold my poker face. Asher squeezes my thigh and rubs his thumb across the soft flannel over my panties. I may be coming unglued with need, but that’s my secret. If Asher ever found out he can turn me on, this whole fake dating thing would be ruined. You can’t have feelings for your fake boyfriend. It’s in the rule book. Okay, so there isn’t a rule book, or if there is I haven’t found it. But I have seen No Strings Attached and Friends with Benefits. In both movies, someone caught feelings and, even though they were only hooking up and not fake dating, it ruined them. Good golly, I’m rambling. My thoughts aren’t even making sense. “Yup, that's okay.”
Asher smirks and slides his hand upward and over my hip. He pulls my blanket away and discards it on the floor beside me. I hold my breath as his hand glides up my side. He stares at me, watching for a reaction when he cups my chest, purposely capturing my nipple between his fingers. “And this?”
“Um...” I might as well not have a shirt on. The cotton spaghetti strap could be made of air at this point. My other nipple hardens, impatiently waiting for attention. I’ve never wanted Asher like this before.
Thought he was cute? Yes.
Had a childhood crush? Of course.
But this feeling is different. It’s like poison in my veins, tangling and fighting with the existing desire I have for Liam. I know it’s wrong. I know they’re brothers. I know that this is all fake, but the way my hips instinctively buck to find Asher’s, and the way his hard length strains beneath his jeans, adding pressure in all the right places, it all feels too real.
“That’s fine too.” My voice cracks and Asher smirks. The desire to kiss him and see how far he’ll walk the line between what’s allowed and what’s not is strong. Too strong.
Asher grins, but his jaw is tight. A dark chuckle vibrates in his throat as he retreats to his side of the couch. I bite my lip to hold in a whimper. This cannot be happening. I cannot be falling in like with Asher.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you liked that.”
I roll my eyes and push myself off the couch. I’m in trouble. Deep, deep trouble if Asher can unravel me like that with a simple touch. I need some space before I do something I'll regret. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m going to get ready. Give me about twenty minutes and we can leave.”
“Oh, my gosh!” I yell over the music when we walk into the party. I don't know who’s house we’re at, but it’s big and filled with people. Dozens of cars are haphazardly parked in the front yard and a quarter of the way down the mile-long driveway, lining both sides. This house, it’s too ostentatious to belong to anybody we know. I mean, it
has pillars on the front porch. Colonial style pillars! In Florida! Whoever lives here, they’ve got that fuck-you-money.
My fingers tangle with Asher’s as he leads me deeper into the house. He’s obviously been here before because he has no trouble navigating his way through the maze of a first floor to the back yard. I glance up at him, slightly jealous of the confidence Asher radiates. I want to hide inside myself right now. I’ve never been good with crowds, or strange people, but he seems at home here.
Asher must sense the anxiety beginning to bubble inside me, because he unlaces our fingers and wraps his arm around my waist. My cheeks heat, but the building pressure in my chest dissipates. I thought it would take longer to transition Asher from jerk to friend in my mind. To my surprise, the switch was seamless. It’s like everything that happened between us the last few years is a fading nightmare and I’ve woken to the man Asher was always meant to be.
But then my stomach drops when I spot Liam a few feet in front of us and I remember everything about what Asher and I are doing is fake. I swallow my anxiety and get my game face ready. Tonight, I am Asher’s girlfriend. I took the title everyone wanted but never got.
I.
Will.
Make.
Liam.
Jealous.
“There they are,” I whisper more to myself than him.
Liam tosses a ping pong ball into a red cup on a plastic table at the center of the patio. He shoots his fists into the air then grabs Corah’s face and pulls it to his. My stomach twists watching them together. I’ve never seen how Liam acts with a girl because the few times we went to a party together, he ditched me. The more I watch, the stupider I feel as I realize he’s been using me all of these years.
“Who’s next?” Liam asks when the guy across the table finishes drinking a can of beer.
“We are.” Asher takes my hand and pulls me to the plastic party table with him. I drag my feet, not ready to face Liam, but then Asher turns to me, his eyes shining with challenge, and asks, “What do you say, Ellie? Do you wanna be my beer pong partner?”
