The Harder You Fall

by L A Cotton

  “Ready to tell us what the hell happened?” Jason glared at me.

  “It was nothing.” I shrugged dismissively, pushing eggs around my plate.

  “Ash, man, if something is going on—”

  “Nothing is going on. I’m fine, promise. It’s been a crazy few weeks, and I just felt like a blow-out.” I could barely look at them, even if I felt their hard eyes burning into the top of my skull.

  “Yeah, well don’t make a habit of it. School might be out for the holidays, but we still need you fit and ready for the exhibition game.”

  “I thought you were still pissed about that?” My brow rose and Jason shrugged.

  “Any chance to show Rixon East who’s on top and I’m there. Besides, Felicity talked me around.” His eyes flicked to hers and she blushed.

  “I take it you figured out how to—”

  “Asher!”

  Chuckling, I went to the faucet to get another glass of water.

  “So Mya didn’t stay?” I finally asked the question I’d been wondering ever since hearing her name.

  “Jason gave her a ride home after she made sure you were all tucked in.” Amusement laced Cam’s words, but I didn’t give him shit for it.

  “Okay,” I grunted.

  “This shit must be killing you; knowing she was here but not being able to remember what you said to her?”

  “Jason,” Flick shot me an apologetic look.

  “I’ll make it right with her,” I said with conviction.

  Whether or not she’d give me a chance though, was another matter entirely.

  “You must be Mya’s aunt. Nice to meet you. I’m Asher, Asher Bennet.” I held out the bunch of flowers, realizing I had severely underestimated Mya’s warning when the petite woman glared up at me. “I know who you are. What do you want?”

  “I... uh, is Mya home?” I scratched my jaw, feeling the weight of her stare press down on me.

  “She’s busy.”

  “Ma’am, I mean no disrespect, but I’d really like to—”

  “Asher?” Mya appeared, eyes wide with an indecipherable emotion. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “I know. I just wanted to drop by and give your aunt these and hopefully talk to you.”

  “Mya,” her aunt warned.

  “You should put the flowers in water, Auntie. I’ll be right there, okay?”

  I stood a little taller at Mya coming to my defense but as the two of them stared at one another, locked in some silent conversation, I knew there was far more to this than her aunt just not liking white guys.

  Shit.

  “Five minutes,” her aunt said before snatching the flowers out of my hand and taking off down the hall.

  “What are you doing here?” Mya hissed as she slipped out onto the porch, closing the door behind her.

  “I wanted to see you.”

  “You could have called or texted.”

  “I wanted to see you, Mya. After last night—”

  “You can remember everything?”

  “About that. I didn’t say or do anything inappropriate did I?”

  “You were pretty out of it.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  “What?” I asked, sensing she was keeping something from me. But if she was about to tell me, it never came. Instead, she let out a weary sigh.

  “You really shouldn’t have come here.”

  “I just wanted to say thank you. The guys told me what you did.” I reached out, plucking a spiral between my fingers. “I would have preferred you hadn’t seen me like that but I’m glad it was you taking care of me.”

  “Asher, what happened yesterday?”

  The ground moved from under me. “What do you mean?” I choked out. “Nothing happened.”

  But I saw it in her eyes.

  Mya knew.

  Maybe she didn’t know everything, but she knew enough.

  She knew I was lying.

  Glancing back at the house, Mya’s lips pulled into a flat line. “I can’t talk right now. But I could... come over later?”

  “Yeah?” My chest almost burst.

  “Well, your home movie theater is pretty awesome.”

  “Oh it’s like that, huh?”

  “How else would it be?”

  Was she flirting with me? Because it felt a hella lot like she was. I fought a grin.

  “Pick you up at six?”

  “I can make my own way there.”

  “Okay.” I didn’t want to push her, not yet. “Should I invite the others?” I asked.

  “Won’t they be busy? It’s Saturday, the night of dates and dreams and all those other things regular couples do.”

  “So it’ll just be the two of us?” I clarified because my mind was spinning in a hundred different directions.

  “Asher?” she said, her silky voice grounding me.

  “Yeah, Hernandez?” I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.

  “I’ll see you later.”

  Slowly backing away, I kept my eyes on her. Mya was beautiful. The dark wash denim overalls molded to her curves. The black tee underneath highlighting the tone of her skin. Everything about Mya drew me in. She was fierce and unapologetic and completely herself.

  And I wanted to know her.

  All of her.

  “Don’t be late,” I mouthed and she chuckled, waiting until I was on the sidewalk.

  “Oh, and Asher?” she called out.

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t get any ideas about what this is.”

  “You mean a movie with a friend?” I smirked. “As if I could forget.”

  This time felt different though. She might have wanted to play it down as nothing more than friends hanging out but there was a sparkle in her eyes I hadn’t seen before.

  A sparkle I suddenly wanted to see all the damn time.

  By the time Mya arrived, I no longer felt hungover. Which was a good thing considering how many snacks I’d prepared. Everything from nachos to popcorn, pretzels to candy. I may have gone a little overboard.

  “Jason, Cameron, Hailee, and Flick did a good job with the clean-up.” She pretended to run her finger along the sideboard, inspecting it for dust. “I hope you tipped them well. Although, I’m surprised you haven’t got a housekeeper.”

  “We used to have one, when I was younger,” I admitted. “But as soon as I turned fourteen, she left.”

  “I can’t imagine what that’s like, always having someone to do everything for you.” Mya’s eyes clouded.

  “There’s just you?”

  “Me and my mama, yeah.”

  “What happened to your dad?”

  “I thought I was coming over to watch a movie?” She deflected and I couldn’t blame her. I didn’t like to talk about my family either.

  “We can work up to that.” I led Mya toward the back of the house, pulling open the door to the basement level home movie theater.

  “I got a bunch of stuff from the store earlier. I hope you’re hungry?”

  She shot me an uncertain smile. “You didn’t need to do that, Asher.”

  “I know, but I wanted to. I feel like, after last night, I owe you.” Raking a hand through my hair, I dropped down on one of the couches, chuckling when Mya took the one furthest away from me.

  “Do I still smell?”

  “You do remember.” She gasped.

  “Bits and pieces. It’s very hazy though. What’ll it take for you to put me out of my misery and tell me if I said anything inappropriate?”

  Mya hesitated for a second, as if mulling over her answer, then cracked a small smile. “You were ever the gentleman.”

  “I highly doubt that.” But I’d take it. I’d take anything she had to offer me.

  Jesus, I was so pathetic, begging for scraps of attention from a girl who had made it clear on more than one occasion that she wasn’t going to cross whatever invisible line she’d drawn between us.

  But she’s here. And she’s flirting back.

  “
Listen, I’m sorry about earlier, with your aunt. I guess I didn’t really believe you when you said she had a problem with white boys.”

  “She doesn’t have a problem with white boys, Asher. She has a problem with me dating a white boy.”

  “Good job you’re not dating one then.” I fought a grin, watching her reaction. But Mya wasn’t like most girls. You had to work for her blushes and little expressions of surprise.

  It was one of the things I liked most about her.

  “What movie did you have in mind?” She switched the subject.

  “Take your pick.” I flicked my head to where I’d sorted out a pile of DVDs. While she was deciding, I went and got the snacks, adding bowl after bowl to the small coffee table.

  “Wow.” Mya observed the spread. “That is a lot of food.”

  “You have seen me eat, right?”

  She laughed at that, sitting back on the other couch.

  Screw this.

  I stood up and stalked toward her. Mya’s eyes went big, tracking my movements until I hovered right in front of her. “Asher, what are you…?”

  “Chips,” I deadpanned. “I need chips.” Shoving my hand into the bowl, I scooped up a handful, winked at her, and sat on the end of her couch. She narrowed her eyes at me, pressing her pouty lips into a thin line.

  “Problem?” My brow rose.

  “Just play the damn movie,” she mumbled.

  But the movie wasn’t distraction enough. It didn’t stop me from watching her out the corner of my eye, stealing discreet glances as she laughed and gasped and buried her hands into her face. There was something so fucking pure about seeing Mya this way. Completely uninhibited and free. It did all kinds of crazy things to me; made my heart race and my palms sweat. It also made me act like a dumbass because before I knew what I was doing, I’d shuffled closer to her and grabbed her hand in mine. I half-expected her to tear her hand away and chew me out. But Mya was full of surprises, letting our joined hands rest between us as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

  Then the stars aligned.

  Mya almost jumped out of her skin when the bad guy appeared out of the shadows, brandishing a knife and ready to kill. “Holy shit,” she shrieked, her ass lifting at least two inches off the couch. Laughter rumbled deep in my chest as I slipped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her into my side. “It’s okay,” I teased, “I’ll protect you.”

  “Asher...” Her hand went to my stomach, my muscles contracting beneath her touch, blazing a path of heat down, down, down. My eyes dropped to hers, hooded and hungry.

  “Asher, what are you...”

  “Just one taste,” I pleaded, needing to kiss her so much it hurt.

  “I—” she started, but my hand slid into her hair, tilting her face to mine. “We shouldn’t...” It was a cracked whisper, her eyes telling me something different. Silently giving me permission.

  The movie raged on around us, the explosions and cries from the surround sound system drowning out to nothing but white noise, as I gently brushed my lips over hers. Mya let out a little whimper, her fingers curling into my t-shirt. My pulse ratcheted, my body burning for the girl who tasted like strawberry kisses.

  “Asher, this is a bad idea.” Her words should have doused me in cold water, but they didn’t. Because Mya didn’t pull away. She didn’t shove me back and run. Instead, she pressed her lips to mine again, pulling my body into hers. I went willingly, pressing Mya into the back of the couch, learning the shape of her mouth, the curves of her body.

  I’d only been half serious when I told Flick I thought me and Mya were written in the stars, but kissing her, feeling her underneath me, I felt a cosmic shift. Maybe this—us—wasn’t destiny but we were so fucking right for each other I wanted to scream it from the rooftops.

  So when she breathed, “Stop, Asher. You have to stop,” as if we were doing something wrong, I knew it was a mistake.

  Because nothing was wrong about this.

  Not one single thing.

  I just had to make her see it.

  Mya

  Asher kissed me.

  He wasn’t supposed to kiss me.

  I wasn’t supposed to let him kiss me.

  But the way he looked at me, with so much yearning and hope; it cracked right through the last of my defenses. Leaving me unprotected and powerless against his charms.

  I didn’t feel vulnerable the second his lips touched mine though, I felt alive. Warmth coursed through me like wildfire. His weight pressed against me, overwhelming in the best kind of way.

  A fighter at heart, I’d always had to fight for what I wanted. A girl growing up, in a man’s world ravaged by drugs and crime. For so many years, I’d stood by Jermaine’s side, defending him, refusing to let him fall deeper into the trap. I’d looked out for him right since we were kids, when I never had anyone looking out for me. But here in Asher’s house, tangled in his arms, his lips hovering right over mine, I felt safe. I felt like he would never let anything hurt me.

  It should have been a relief. Here, with him, I could finally breathe. But the strength of my developing feelings for him scared me. Because here, behind closed doors, it was just the two of us. There was no judgment or stereotypes, whispers or glares. No black, brown, or white. No rich and poor. There was only lust and desire and a connection I was no longer sure I could fight.

  “Why do you like me?” I blurted out, killing the moment. But fear was a strong motivator.

  Asher stared down at me, confusion crinkling his eyes. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Mya,” he said. “You’re strong and beautiful and loyal. You’re not intimidated or in awe of the team, and you are so fucking beautiful it hurts.”

  “You already said that.” My lip curved.

  “I did?” His eyes danced with humor. “Your beauty deserves repetition.”

  “You’re such a cheese ball.”

  “Too much?” He grinned. “I’m sure I can think up some other adjectives...”

  “No.” My fingers ran up his chest finding his jaw. “I think I got it.”

  Asher fixed his mouth over mine again, slipping his tongue between my lips. My little voice of reason silently screamed at me to stop, but with every stroke of his tongue, every press of his lips, it grew quieter and quieter until all the reasons why this was a bad idea melted away.

  I let my hands glide over his shoulders, tangling my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. Asher broke the kiss, brushing his nose over mine, before tracing his lips over my jaw and down the slope of my neck. Sucking and nibbling and grazing his teeth against the sensitive skin, sending thousands of tiny shivers rippling through me.

  “I want you, Mya,” he rasped. “I need you.”

  The sheer desperation in his voice had me gripping his chin and lifting his face to mine. “What happened yesterday, Asher?”

  Indecision flickered in his eyes. He wanted to tell me, but something held him back.

  “What happened with your ex?” he countered.

  Damn him.

  We were back to this. Both of us needing more, neither of us willing to share. But one of us had to make a move, to give an inch.

  Something told me it wasn’t going to be him.

  Taking a deep breath, I started. “Jermaine is... was my best friend.” I pushed Asher off me gently, needing air. He sat back, raking a hand through his perfectly messed up hair.

  “We grew up together, were in the same class at school. Our mamas always used to joke that we were two halves of the same whole.” Asher let out a small breath and my eyes slid to his. “I won’t lie to you, Asher. He was my everything.”

  “What changed?” His voice was tight.

  “I don’t need to tell you that where I come from, it isn’t like Rixon. When you’re a kid it’s easier to ignore what happens on street corners, but once you hit high school it’s reality. Drugs, gangs...” I hesitated, unsure of how much to tell him. Not because I was protecting Jermaine, that ship had long sailed,
but because I was protecting myself.

  If I told Asher, if I let him into that part of my life, there was no undoing it. I’d forever be the poor girl from the wrong side of the tracks.

  “He fell in with some bad people. Things got out of control and he got hurt.” I got hurt, the words teetered on the tip of my tongue.

  Asher’s brows bunched together as he studied me, seeing right through my defenses. “And...”

  “And I knew I’d lost him. Next time it wasn’t going to be a gang jumping him, roughing him up. It was going to be a car rolling by with a gun. My mama wanted me out of there and my aunt was all too willing to let me stay with her. Your turn,” I said, wavering under the intensity of his stare.

  Asher, like Felicity and Hailee and everyone else at Rixon High, knew one version of Mya. Sure they saw the military boots, the denim overalls, and plaid shirts, but she was still a tamed down version of herself. Because I knew the other version of Mya, the real version, and this place, these people, wouldn’t mesh.

  “My dad is an asshole,” Asher deadpanned, his face devoid of emotion.

  “Okaaaay. I don’t really know what to say to that.”

  “Everyone thinks he’s this awesome self-made man who provides for his family but he’s a mean son of a bitch. A real devil in sheep’s clothing.”

  “No one else knows this?”

  He shrugged, not meeting my eyes. “Money talks, I guess. And don’t get me wrong, on the face of it, he’s generous. He donates to charity, helps out my friends’ families. Supports the team. But everything comes with a price where Andrew Bennet is concerned.”

  “And you have to pay it.” I whispered.

  “Four years.” Asher tugged at the ends of his hair. “He gave me four years of high school, but senior year is almost up.”

  “What happens after high school?” Dread slithered up my spine.

  Asher ran a hand down his face, his expression contorted with pain. “I become his puppet.”

  I didn’t know what that meant but I could feel the torment radiating from him.

  “My father was never the athletic type. He didn’t play football or run track or anything like that. His talent was computers and tech. Figuring out how things work and making them work better. I was never interested in that stuff and I was always a big disappointment to him. Football... that was my passion, and I was good at it. Not as good as Jason,” he gave me a wry smile, “but I could have had a good college football career. So the deal was I got to play at Rixon if I walked away from football in college and focused on academics.”