by Melissa Blue
“Of course you would have. I was a dick.”
“Still a dick.” She turned away from his sharp stare to say, “And I don't love him. I will never love him. We're done.”
He snorted. “Then why are you crying?”
She didn’t know how she felt, but the question made her heart skitter. Did the breakup hurt? She'd played the clichéd “woman scorned” role for the last couple of days—eating ice cream, listening to sad music, and watching even sadder movies. Was that reaction love or just hurt? She'd let Victor in. How could she not have? He knew where all the bodies were buried. But love?
She scoffed and tugged on the door handle.
Porter laughed. “He's it for you.”
Ash stopped and glared at him. “And that's the only reason you feel compelled to apologize?”
“No.” The way he spoke that single word, strong and with conviction, told her he was speaking the truth. “Like I said, I was a shit. And he's going to be my brother soon in a very legal sense.”
Her fingers went slack over the door handle. “What?”
“Do you really think I'd just let him screw around with my sister and not marry her?”
Anger sparked hot and fast through her. She'd been close—so close to forgiving him. And now this?
“Oh, my God.” Her voice rose to an almost shrill level. “I hate men. You never listen.” She pushed him.
He had to reach back for the ground with one hand to keep his balance.
“With men, it's your way or no way,” she said. “So let me make this clear—hell will freeze over before I take him back.”
With Porter mostly out of the way, she slammed the car door in his face. Unfortunately, he had quick reflexes, so she didn't catch anything that could use a good nubbing.
Still, she heard him yell at her as she backed the car up, “Then you better get a jacket. A blizzard's coming.”
Since she wasn't angry enough to run him over, she left him standing there in the parking lot. Alive. With all his limbs.
He better count his blessings.
Her stomach continued to flutter throughout the ride home as one word kept pounding in her head—Marriage. Her and Vic forever? She scoffed at the idea. They were so far off from that finality. Though two days prior, she might have thought that if things continued to go well, that could be their eventual future.
Maybe.
Marriage was such a huge step, especially when she didn't know how she felt about him. Ash had been in love before. She'd know if she was head over heels in love with Vic. There should have been a moment when cupid had shot his bow right between her eyes. But there was nothing. If what they had was love—the big 'L'—then she shouldn’t have needed to unpack how she felt about him. Her feelings would have bled out with every breath.
They were great in bed together. Pretty damn good out of it, too, when he wasn’t trying to save her from himself. They were great when she didn't feel the need to egg him on just so he would see her as Ash, not Ashley Hicks—Porter's baby sister.
If she were being honest with herself, how she felt about him really wasn't all that different than before they'd fallen into bed. The baggage of her and Vic was unpacked—and there was nothing startling in the revelations.
Her stomach continued to flutter as the word marriage pounded in her head. Ash chewed on that for a few minutes, the scenery flashing by as she continued to make her way home.
And then it hit her.
“Oh, hell,” she muttered, a little disgusted with herself for taking so long to see the writing on the wall.
She'd probably big-L loved him since the first grade. Or maybe she'd fallen for him at sixteen, the first time he'd grinned at her. Or when he'd flirted with her as they stood in her mother's home, headed to prom. She'd worn a pink dress and silver heels that had made her feel so grown up and sexy. She'd never shown so much skin before. And Victor, even with his date standing beside him, couldn't take his gaze off her.
Or maybe she'd fallen during the six years he'd been in Iraq and she'd been a borderline mess between each letter he'd sent.
Or maybe it was when he'd finally kissed her in her kitchen.
Her chest tightened and her breathing went unsteady. She pulled the car over and dug around in her purse for her phone. Of course it was at the bottom under makeup, forgotten to-do lists, and emergency Kotex. She hit speed dial.
Iris answered on the first ring. “What's up?”
Ash tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, uncertain how to forge ahead.
Just blurt it out?
Okay. She sucked in a breath and the let the words spill out. “I think I'm in love with Victor. Not love him as a longtime family friend, but in love.”
Silence on the other end, and then her friend said in a flat tone, “This is news?”
Ash sat dumbfounded. She'd thought her announcement would involve a lot more gasps and squealing and shock. When in the hell did her feelings for Victor become clear to everyone else but her? “Why didn't you tell me when I was ranting and raving last night?”
“I thought you knew. You just didn't want to say the words out loud. Being a good friend, I didn't point it out. Salt, meet wound.” Iris sounded genuinely confused. “It's kind of obvious.”
She lifted one hand and let it drop back down onto the steering wheel. “When was it obvious?”
Her friend made a hmm sound that pretty much asked “How can I say this lightly?”
“How long have I known you?” Iris asked.
Ash put her head to the steering wheel since she suspected the response was the beginning of Iris’s full answer. “Five years.”
“Okay. So at least five years.”
Ash shut her eyes. “I had a thing for him.”
“I thought thing was code word for stupid-in-love. You didn't talk about him a lot, but whenever you did, the conversation about him always turned deep. I know a lot about Porter. He's your brother and a bit of a control freak. I vaguely know about Porter's other friends. Vic, I know him by that name and not Victor. At work, he totally prefers that name.”
A smile spread out as Ash remembered how he ended up with that nickname. “He calls me Ash because it sounds like Ass if you're not paying attention. So I call him Vic because it sounds like victim. He was a ladies’ man in high school. It makes sense.”
Iris didn't reply, as though Ash had already presented all the evidence needed. She and Vic had nicknames that only they understand...so, yeah.
Ash, her defense growing weaker by the second, said, “But...”
Her friend laughed. “How could you not know?”
“I've been in love before. It's all...” She rolled her hand around as though, one, her friend could see the motion, and two, that it could describe what she meant by “it's all...”
Iris said, “Real love isn't...” Silence followed, and Ash smiled because her friend was probably doing a hand motion too. “So, there's the initial rush. You can't stop thinking about him. You want to spend all your time with him. Right?”
“Right. And that's what I've felt before and there wasn't any of that with Vic.”
Again, silence. “Ashley, I say this with love, but—never mind.”
Ash laughed. “What?”
“Back to my point, that honeymoon kind of love wears off and he probably starts to get on your nerves. The sex is still good, you're still good. If only he'd stop clipping his damn toenails on your good towel. That's when you hit real love. Long-lasting love. You'd-die-for-them love. You know he's an ass, but you still love him. That's where you're at with Vic. And from the way he's been looking the past few days, he's there too.”
Ash could feel the smallest give in her gut at the description. If she accepted that she loved him—But, she couldn't. Those words meant too much. They meant they weren't done yet and that he could hurt her again.
“I'm not going to do this to myself. How I feel doesn't matter.”
Iris sighed directly into the mouthpi
ece. “I've never known you to give up.”
Ash made a disgruntled noise. “First time for everything.”
“Okay.” Iris's voice was bright when she agreed.
Ash narrowed her eyes as suspicion took hold at Iris’s easy retreat. “That's it?”
“Yup.” Iris made a popping sound with the extra emphasis on the “p.”
Deflated, Ash glanced around at the traffic around her. “Okay. I'm going to get over him and move on.”
Iris laughed and laughed.
When Ash had heard enough, she hung up on her friend. She was starting to feel like no one saw her side of things. Vic was scared—bone-deep scared—he'd hurt her. Did it never cross his mind that she could take care of herself and him?
That was the biggest point of contention, and one that wouldn't be solved by exchanging “I love you” and “I love you more” declarations, especially if there was even a niggle of worry on Vic's part that he was just another notch on her belt. He wasn't. He never had been, apparently.
She wouldn't, couldn't go crawling back to him. He had to trust her or they wouldn't fizzle out. They'd implode.
But she put her head back on the steering wheel for a little while. She needed a moment, because she was in love with Vic.
*****
Victor opened his apartment door and then had to lean against the doorjamb when he saw the visitor. Shock would have tumbled him onto the floor if he hadn’t.
“Porter,” he said with no inflection.
His friend shoved his hands into his pockets, the sun setting against his back. Well past high noon. Well past words they should have said a long time ago.
“Victor.”
Both men knew where they stood. Victor had broken the brotherhood code by sleeping with a best friend's sister. Both men had made Ashley cry, and that was probably the only rule in their friendship—not just between Porter and Victor—that no one had dared to break before. And because it was Ashley, that outweighed anything else.
Victor felt he had the upper hand. He'd done what he'd done to protect her. Porter had just been a dick. So, Victor stood there, brows raised, waiting for his friend to make his case.
“I've apologized. Have you?” Porter's tone bordered on belligerent.
Fuck. So, Victor was the only one in the wrong. And he was dead wrong—no question about it. Wade's words had had more than enough time to sink in and to start gnawing at his bones. If Ash's safety was top priority, he could have just ended things, but he'd ended things and made her feel unwanted.
Ash had done exactly what the Goon Squad had instilled in her—when a man tried to make his faults her insecurities, her job was to call him on it, and if he didn’t stop, she should have walked away.
She had.
The follow-through was now on his shoulders, because Porter had already made amends with his sister. Porter stood at Victor's door, probably the last place he wanted to be. If Ash weighed the the apologies, her brother would have an edge.
Bastard. “Did she tell you to come over here?” Victor asked.
“She did when I saw her at work earlier, and she won't forgive me until I do.” Porter glanced down. Sighed. “I guess this is my blessing. If you love her, I won't stand in your way. I won't make this difficult.” Having uttered those words, Porter's gaze narrowed to slits. “My blessing isn’t permission for you to have a free-for-all. Ashley is still my baby sister. You've already broken her heart. Fix it or I’ll be forced to break you.”
Victor wanted to laugh. Male-posturing. Fuck. He'd often wondered if that was the only reason countries went to war.
“Duly noted,” he said, because he understood that the threat was necessary. “Oliver, Wade, and Grady made similar overtones during the past few days.”
Wade's words had dug at Victor, but he still didn't know how to fix what he'd broken. “I don't know what to do. She's right to be mad.”
Porter whipped out a smile. “Ashley can be a bit mercenary when she's pissed, so you're on your own there. Coming here is my apology. I'm covered.”
No other words needed to be spoken. One woman had stood between them—an incredible one. One they both loved. The conversation didn't fix it all. Nowhere near close. Victor had broken Porter's trust, but they'd try to make things right for Ash. They'd also do it because twenty years was long enough to be considered family—to be brothers.
“Porter.” Victor’s words came out gruff. “I'm sorry.”
His friend lifted one shoulder in a shrug, his face an embarrassed grimace. “If I wanted to be honest with myself, I'd say I saw the way she looked at you and vice versa.” He glanced down, pushed back his shoulder and then met Victor’s gaze. “I never wanted—I only wanted...” Porter sighed. “It was a too high of a demand. It was a selfish fucking rule. I deserved to get my teeth kicked in.”
“Maybe.” Victor glanced up at the ceiling and then down to his friend. “Ashley would want us to hug to really make sure we forgave each other. Supernatural has her convinced man tears are good tears.”
Porter snorted and tilted his head back. “Deeaaaannnnnn.”
Without missing a step, Victor yelled back in a dramatic tone. “Sammmmmmy.”
His friend laughed. “Hug accomplished.”
“Fuck, now I want an Impala.”
Porter's gaze turned serious. “And Ashley? Do you...” He shuddered, but he was trying. “...still want her?”
Victor pushed his door open wide so Porter could step inside. “That might take some planning. ”
Porter hesitated, but when he stepped forward, he pulled Victor into a hug. A real one. Porter rested his fist on Victor’s shoulder blade. Victor did the same. Two short pounds on the back and they broke apart.
Victor shook his head, amused and a little embarrassed by the intimate embrace. “We never speak of this again. And if we do, it's only to Ashley.”
Porter laughed. “Agreed. You should know I brought my grandmother's wedding ring with me. And you're going to give it to my sister.”
Of course. Victor should have seen that one coming. Not that the thought hadn't been far from his mind. There had always been one woman for him. Always. And, God, it killed him that he'd messed it up. Trying to make things right with Porter wouldn't end his suffering. Victor wouldn't feel right until Ash...Until she knew without a doubt he loved her. He could only hope she'd want him back.
He smiled, but the gesture was bittersweet. “Finally, you're saying something that could actually be helpful.”
Porter smirked, looking proud and pleased, and then he walked in.
They were good, and that was just the start.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
~Gamer Truth: There are button-mashers and there are strategists. Both can kick ass.~
The next afternoon, Victor spent most of his lunch locked in an internal debate while his ham and cheese sandwich grew stale. The unanswerable question: What should he do first with his Ashley problem? He finally decided to send Ash a chat message through World of Warcraft.
Armyof1: Wanna game?
AshThis: Porter talked to you, didn't he?
Armyof1: Yes. Why?
AshThis: Men. Go away.
He smiled. She was actually talking to him. He hadn't expected that much. Then again, when Porter had showed up at his house, his friend had also admitted to talking to Ash first. Knowing Porter, he'd probably said something along the lines of “shotgun wedding.” No one was exactly rational when it came to Ashley, least of all her brother.
Victor pulled his laptop closer and considered his next move. He grinned when the right idea came to him—to pull her pigtails.
His fingers flew over the keyboard as he typed his next message.
Armyof1: Call me. We need to talk.
AshThis: No.
Armyof1: I can always come to your office.
AshThis: No.
Armyof1: You're Grumpy Cat now?
AshThis: Bite me.
Armyof1: I would, but you don't
want me to come to your office.
It took her a minute to reply and what she sent was a typed out message that looked like a middle finger. So, yeah. She was still pissed at him. He laughed, proud of her stance and her ingenuity at showing it. But... he pulled her pigtails harder.
Armyof1: I love you.
His phone rang and he answered without saying a word. She started yelling at him anyway.
“Really, Vic! You don't have the balls to say it to my face but in World of Warcraft?”
He took note she didn't deny that she believed the words. She was just upset he'd said them in a game. “I told you we needed to talk. And if you think about it, we're gamers. Fitting.”
She was quiet for a beat, and then she threw back, “Not good enough.”
Ash couldn't see it but he shook his head in disagreement. “It's a start. So am I coming to your office or not?”
“Not.” No hesitation.
Yup. Royally pissed at him. “Okay then. I love you, Ash.”
She hung up. He checked the time and then began to move stuff from the top of his desk. She blew into his office five minutes later, slamming the door behind her—a whirlwind of pissed off woman.
Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright from anger. And she was beautiful, always to him and he needed a moment to catch his breath. Still, he was so fucking scared he'd hurt her. A smarter man—a stronger man—would have left her alone and let her get over him, but he wasn't those things. He couldn't take another moment without her.
“It's not going to be that easy.” Her voice was low and tight. “You can't say you love me and then expect me to crumble and give in to whatever you want. Fuck that. I love you is not a goddamn apology.”
“Nothing about us is easy. And no the words aren't an apology. The words are fact. We're...at war and we should know where we stand at the start of it. ”
He raised his brows, wanting her to say the words and put them out there between them. She loved him. Why the hell didn't she just say it? They could argue the details just fine, but fuck, she had to admit it.
She said, “And just because my brother told you to...”
Well, shit. She thought Porter had put him up to this, so he pushed, “Told me what?”
