Trainwreck

by Heather C. Myers

  In fact, as Sadie headed back home, that was what she was dreading the most. What if Asher pretended that what had transpired between them last night never happened? He would wake up, give her a nod, and then leave without so much as a goodbye. And she was suddenly the fool once more, letting him use her, take advantage of what she felt about him, and then go back to pretending she didn't exist. Her tears started to blur her vision, but she blinked them away, hoping beyond hope that that wasn't going to happen, that Asher wouldn't treat her as though she didn't exist after everything she had done for him.

  When she got back to the house, she realized that Asher was still asleep. Well, she couldn't exactly blame him, now could she? Whatever he had experienced, it obviously was traumatic (though, of course, Sadie highly doubted Asher would ever admit such a thing), and it probably took a lot out of him. She pursed her lips together, thinking idly for a moment of what to do. She knew that she wasn't going to wake him up, but she also knew that she couldn't get back to sleep now that she was up no matter how hard she tried. Ultimately, she decided that she was going to grab a book, sit in the chair, and read. This way she could wait for him to wake up and judging by what kind of mood he was in, take it from there.

  She grabbed Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and decided that there was no time like the present to catch up on the classics. Though many of her friends adored Jane Austen novels, it was hard for her to get into them only because it was about a bunch of women waiting to get married. Yes, Sadie knew there was more to it than that, and yes, Sadie loved the movies, but it was quite difficult for her to get sucked into the universe Austen created. At least, for her, anyway. Although, if she was being honest, Asher was quite the contender for Mister Darcy, if Mister Darcy wasn't as wealthy. It was a good thing Alice had her adventures. And that was what Sadie wanted more than anything. Adventures. And love, of course. Hmm.

  Sadie leaned back in the chair and opened the cover of the book, trying to get comfortable. She let her eyes begin to read the text, but every so often, they would stop on their own accord and glance up to see Asher sleeping deeply on her bed. When she realized what she was doing, she would force her eyes back to the page and mouth the words so it would help her focus.

  However, that didn't seem to work because Sadie found herself looking at him constantly, no matter how hard she tried not to. "Come on, Sadie," she whispered underneath her breath. "Get a grip. Focus."

  But for the love of her, she couldn't.

  Maybe if you just allow yourself to look at him for a portion of time, Sadie, you might get a better grip on yourself, hmm? Sadie frowned at the taunting voice in her head, but she realized that what she had said was a good idea.

  At that moment, Asher looked vulnerable and serene. He wasn't trying to prove anything to anyone; there was no need for him to pretend to be so tough when he didn't want to be. His eyes were gently closed, and his mouth was hanging opened slightly, though, surprisingly enough, he wasn't drooling or anything like that. His face seemed free of any distress; there were no wrinkles holding tension. His warm brown eyes were masked by his eyelids, and his nose was inhaling and exhaling steadily. His lips, slightly ajar, still looked quite soft, and Sadie was brought back to the kiss they had shared.

  Goodness, it seemed so long ago, but just thinking about it caused her own lips to feel warmer than they usually did, and before she could stop herself, the edges of her lips quirked up into a soft smile. She definitely wouldn't mind experiencing that sensation again, but she highly doubted such a thing were to happen, at least not soon anyway. But the desire was still there, and somewhere, deep down inside of Sadie, thought that she would be able to do such a thing, if not now, than some time in the future.

  "See something you like, Blondie?" a voice asked, immediately causing all of Sadie's thoughts to disintegrate and the smile on her face to turn into a scowl.

  Sadie felt her whole face turn red at the comment, and though she opened her mouth to retort something, she knew that she couldn't. He had caught her, red handed. Of course Sadie had no idea how he did it because his eyes were still closed and his face was still relaxed, but somehow he did. Hell, his lips had molded together and quirked up into a knowing smirk, as though he could see her through his eyelids, as though he could read her mind.

  A smile tugged at her own lips. The whole situation the two had found themselves in was quite ridiculous, if she was being honest. Finally, Asher opened his eyes so they locked with Sadie's, and though the two were silent, their eyes communicated in such a way that their words could never amount to. It was then that Sadie realized, for now, that Asher wasn't going to turn back into the guy who pushed everyone away, who handled everything on his own, who didn't want to deal with anything. For now, he would be open with her, vulnerable, who he really was.

  Sadie felt her heart squeeze at the thought.

  "So," she said, her voice sounding awkward as it filled the comfortable silence. "Would you like some breakfast?"

  Asher didn't say anything for a moment. Instead, his eyes studied her face, her eyes, the slope of her nose, the curl of her lips.

  "Yeah," he said softly, nodding a bit. "Yeah, I would."

  Sadie nodded and stood, with Asher following suit, and Sadie led him into the dining room, hoping her lacking cooking skills would morph into something short of Julia Child.

  Chapter 27

  There was a small dining table located in the pocket of the kitchen in Sadie's house. Asher couldn't help but stare at the little things, whether it was the fact that the house had three bathrooms, a bar in the sink to place hot food on, a television in the living room, an assortment of DVDs. But most of all, he was taken aback by the pictures that lined up the walls, of Sadie, of her brother, family members, stuff like that. Sadie's mother seemed to be the sentimental type from what Asher gathered, and he wondered for a brief moment what that might be like, to have a mother who actually cared about her family enough to adorn her house with numerous pictures.

  Once Asher sat down, he turned his body in Sadie's direction. She was bending down, grabbing a frying pan, and then placed it on the stove before heading over to the refrigerator. The corner of his lips curled up into a smile, but it wasn't cocky or arrogant; it was genuine. A feeling of completeness had embedded itself deep within his body, and warmth from such a feeling spread rather quickly. It was a new feeling, something he wasn't exactly comfortable in, but wouldn't push away nonetheless.

  "Can you actually cook?" he asked her in his usual lithe voice. The silence was too loud and he needed to make some kind of retort in order to distract himself from his emotional thoughts. He leaned back in his chair and his warm brown eyes continued to follow her movements with sharp precision.

  Upon hearing what he had asked, Sadie stood up and placed one hand on her hip, giving him a dry stare. "As a matter of fact, I can," she said, and then grabbed the bacon packet before closing the refrigerator door and heading over to the stove. She had decided to cook scrambled eggs and bacon – or at least, she had planned to attempt to such a feat. "If you don't want eggs and bacon, there's cereal in the cupboard. Oatmeal too."

  "No, no," Asher said, placing his hands up in mock defense. "Just watching you cook will be humorous enough for me. I'll take my chances with you."

  "That almost sounded like a compliment," she murmured as she turned around, feeling her heart beat incessantly.

  Asher heard her but refused to say anything on the matter. He always felt he wasn't too good with words, and as a result, decided to stay silent lest he screw something up. And right now, he really didn't want to screw anything up. His eyes continued to watch her, and soon he could smell the rich scent of the food she was cooking, hear the sizzle of the bacon, and in a manner of minutes, Sadie held out a plate of hot food for him, complete with a napkin and silverware. He didn't remember when someone had actually cooked a hot meal, especially for him. And surprisingly enough, it looked as delicious as it smelled.

&nb
sp; "We have orange juice," Sadie murmured, her head in the refrigerator once again, "milk and water." She stood up so that she could lock eyes with him. "Do you have a preference?"

  He got to choose? Life was so different with Sadie, and he felt as though he truly belonged here. Sure, his thoughts regarding the whole system were somewhat dramatic, but the extreme he was used to and the extreme he was experiencing at present were causing his senses to work overtime.

  "Juice," he replied, and then, after a thought, added, "Please."

  ---

  Sadie smiled at the last word and nodded, and soon, she was joining Asher at the table with her own food, her glass of milk, and Asher's glass of orange juice. For the next few moments, the two ate in silence. Sadie was trying her damndest not to stare at him. She couldn't actually believe he was sitting right in front of her, eating food she had made specifically for him. And they weren't fighting about anything, at least not yet. Could this possibly last? Sadie wanted to believe that it would, but she wasn't so sure. She decided she would enjoy it while she could and this way, even if something shifted and Asher started pushing her away once more, she had this moment to look back on.

  "You know," Asher said with a mouth full of food. "This isn't actually that bad. It's pretty good, you know."

  "Ooh, ouch," Sadie muttered dryly, rolling her eyes once again. "You wound me."

  Asher grinned, but this time, it did not quite reach his eyes. His thoughts had begun to brew once again, and before he could continue on joking around, he wanted – needed - to have her answer a question. "Why did you come to my house yesterday?" he asked in a soft voice. He was very careful to ensure that the question itself was not accusatory in any way, but rather curious, interested in what she had to say.

  Sadie tilted her head and read his eyes, trying to find some secret he was hiding from her that caused him to change moods so quickly. But all she found was his genuine interest and she sighed through her nose. "I was worried about you," she admitted, making sure she kept a hold of his eyes. She wanted him to know that she wasn't lying to him.

  "You were worried about me?" he asked, perking his brow as though what she had said was hard for him to believe. "Why?"

  Sadie paused, wondering how to answer the next question without admitting her obvious feelings for him. Then again, he probably already knew what she felt. Asher might have been lazy, but Sadie knew that he definitely wasn't stupid. "Because I care about you," she replied finally, deciding to just be honest instead of thinking of some elaborate explanation that he would probably no doubt see through.

  This seemed to take Asher by surprise only because he wasn't expecting Sadie to actually admit just how she felt about him. In all his years of dating, not once did a girl ever tell him that they cared about him in any way. Of course, he never expected them to only because he purposefully dated the wrong girl. But Sadie... "Why?" he asked, knowing how annoying someone could be continuously asking the same question over and over again. In fact, he hid a smirk as he saw the familiar indentation of frustration between Sadie's eyes as she furrowed her brow at him.

  Asher was right in that aspect – she was definitely annoyed by this line of one-sided questioning. It wasn't like she was asking him the same questions in return, and for a moment, Sadie wondered if this was just some sick joke to him, that he wanted to humiliate her or something along those lines. But when she looked at his face, she realized that while he was amused by what he was doing, he seemed keen to know.

  "I don't know why," she answered though the answer itself was honest. She knew girls who knew exactly why they loved their partners and girls who had no clue. Apparently, she had fallen into the latter category when it came to Asher. "But I do know that you are like a train wreck, and I wouldn't like you if you were anything but that."

  Asher stared at her for a long moment without fully realizing just what he wanted to do and how he wanted to do it. If he was good with words, he might have returned her sentiments in some way, hoping that they would obviously reveal just how he felt about her in return.

  But he didn't, and as a result, couldn't tell her that.

  So without fully thinking of what he was doing, he leaned towards her, gently grabbed her face with his hands, and pressed his lips against hers.

  Sadie was frozen, sitting in her chair, unsure of what to do with her hands. She was thinking too much, she realized. She needed to calm down and let her instincts take over. But inside, her heart was beating erratically, from nervousness to excitement to contentment and everything in between. It felt amazing and beautiful and perfect all at one time. Eventually, Sadie's hands found the front of Asher's shirt, and she pressed them flat against his chest, feeling the toned pectorals twitch underneath her touch. That made her feel incredibly powerful; he was feeling the same for her as she was for him.

  Asher cocked his head to the side so he could deepen the kiss and once Sadie felt his tongue slide against her bottom lip, she opened her mouth eagerly, wanting nothing more than to feel him explore her mouth.

  When the two broke apart, they were both gasping for air. Both were a little more than shaky, but they both managed to hide it in some way.

  Sadie had never been kissed that way before, but a worried shiver slid down her face because now that they had kissed... what happened next? Were they together or would things just go back to the way they were before?

  Chapter 28

  Somebody needed to say something or else things were going to get awkward.

  At least, that's what Sadie thought. It had only been a moment since the two broke apart from kissing, but to her, it felt like forever. Maybe she was looking too much into it. Maybe it wasn't that awkward for him and her thinking it was awkward was making it awkward.

  She was thinking too much – Stop!

  "Do you want to talk about what happened last night?" Sadie asked quietly, raising a brow just slightly to indicate that she was interested in what he had to say but if he didn't want to talk about it anymore, she wouldn't press him. However, Sadie herself wasn't exactly sure if she wanted to know the full details. The fact that this was caused by his father was enough for Sadie to hear, but if he wanted to tell her everything, she would hear it.

  Just looking at him now – he had a black eye and he was sitting awkwardly because whatever happened to his ribs must be hurting him. She hoped he hadn't broken a rib or something like that. Her uncle had broken a rib and the doctor really couldn't do anything about it; it just had to heal on its own. But the pain was prevalent, and it had limited what her uncle could and couldn't do actively. Maybe his side was just bruised.

  "Yeah," he said, his eyes still encompassed into hers. He nodded as he spoke, causing chestnut brown hair to fall into his face as it normally did, and Sadie tried to ignore the butterflies that were currently occupying her stomach and the desire to do nothing else but to kiss him again. "Yeah, I would." He paused and then interlocked his fingers together, trying to figure out just where and how to start.

  It took everything in Sadie to refrain from touching him in any way; she wanted to make sure that she didn't crowd him or that he felt boxed up to the point where he was uncomfortable around her and didn't want to say anything. Instead, she sat back in her chair and looked at him, hoping her eyes would do enough without seeming like she felt sorry for him.

  "The harassing started after you left," Asher began, his palms flat on his thighs and subconsciously, he began rubbing them up and down, hoping he didn't look too nervous but wanting some sort of outlet for his nervous energy. "I mean, he doesn't like me. I have no idea if he loves me but I really don't think it matters. He kept saying how I could never get a girl like you in a million years because you weren't a slut – which you're not – but he was implying that I could never get a girl like you otherwise. He reminded me of what a piece of shit I am and that I was mooching off him by living under his roof without paying rent, just stuff like that.

  "I mean, it's not like any of this is new,"
he continued, tossing his head back so his hair fell out of his eyes. "I've heard all of his insults before. It didn't bother me too much. In fact, whenever he does yell at me, I try and see if he comes up with anything new, you know." He had a crooked smile on his face,

  Sadie noticed, but it had yet to reach her eyes. She wanted to ask more about it, but she forced herself to refrain. He'll get there eventually, Sadie, she told herself. If he wants to talk about it, he'll tell you.

  Asher paused, trying to think back to the previous evening. It was hard to do only because he got so good at blocking the experiences he had with his family out. His brow was furrowed and his arms were crossed over his chest as he stared at the floor in front of him. "But it didn't end there," he murmured. "I left, not wanting to deal with him yelling at me, and when I got back to my house, it had to be around nine o'clock, maybe nine thirty. Obviously, he was drinking. He's always drinking." He stopped and then tilted his head slightly to the side. A strand of hair fell into his face and Sadie felt the burning desire to swipe it away nearly consume her, but she forced herself to stop. If he wanted to touch her, he would. "Um... but I'm used to that too. The thing about him drinking, though, is that anything could set him off, whether I look at him the wrong way, whether my shoes make weird sounds. Trust me, there's been a lot of shit he's come up with in order to justify beating me up."

  Sadie frowned upon hearing this. In her mind, there was never a justifiable reason for a father to beat up his son unless the son was legitimately threatening his father's life. She felt herself hate his parents all the more, expecting, if anything, that Asher's mother would defend her son. But she was either just as bad or didn't even care as long as her husband wasn't beating on her. Either way, she was a horrible person. Either way, both of them were horrible people.

  "Anyway, I thought that it was going be the usual," Asher said, shrugging his shoulders. It bothered Sadie how at ease, how used to this situation Asher was. "He would yell at me, I would take it, then he would wave me away because, as he puts it, I'm not fun anymore or something along those lines. And that's what he does for a small portion of time, but then he said something that set me off." He looked up at Sadie, locking eyes with her. "He said that the girl that came by – you – that the only reason you visited me was because you were a slut. You could dress her up any way you want to, but no matter what, the girl's a slut just by being around you." Asher had his fingers balled into fists just thinking about what Asher's father had said. They shook slightly even though he tried to control his anger, but his attempts weren't successful. "It was you," he murmured simply. "He said something about you and I just couldn't help it. I threw a punch at him, hit him square in the jaw. My knuckles burned after that, and he beat me up pretty good, but it was worth it." His eyes were serious as they pulled into Sadie's. "I would do it again too."