Privileged

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Privileged Page 17

by Carrie Aarons


  And I know that what I say rings true, even in my soul. I don’t want to dwell. I’m not going to be as naïve as I was. But I also don’t want to hate Asher, or even avoid him. I love him, I know that now, and while I might not tell him … I also didn’t want to fight. I’d seen how love had set my mom free, how happy she and Bennett were. We both had college to look forward to, and with the little time we had, I didn’t want to spend any of it dredging up the past.

  Asher looks relieved. “That’s all I want. Thank you.”

  “So have you started rowing for the summer yet?” I change the subject on to new things.

  He leans back on his elbows, his abs flexing through his shirt. His sunglasses sit low on the bridge of his nose so that I can make out those green eyes. “Yep, summer team has started. But I hate rowing in the summer, it’s too hot. Everyone else seems to love the sun and nice weather, but I prefer the cut of the cold. Gives me some sort of edge.”

  “Oh, you’re so hardcore.” I roll my eyes.

  “Did you like your trip to the college you picked in the States?” When I raise my eyebrow, he explains. “Come on, Nora, you have to know that I was still keeping up with everything you did. You’re in the papers all the time, and I missed you.”

  I can’t help the smile that creases my cheeks. “I liked it a lot actually … it felt good to be back in Pennsylvania. Although Philly is a whole different beast than where I grew up. Have you decided on college? Still Oxford?”

  He nods, but I see the hesitation there. “Oxford is still the plan, even though I’m not really following the Frederick path anymore. But I figure, I have to try it out … it’s one of the best schools in the country after all.”

  “And what’s the plan now that you’re not sticking to your family’s design?”

  He shrugs. “I’m not sure to be honest. Rowing, study some kind of business. Be free for the first time in my life. I bought my own flat, if you didn’t know.”

  Surprise works through me. “You did? Where?”

  “A little one bedroom in Chelsea. I could have you over sometime, if you want?” He looks like he’s trying not to get his hopes up.

  “I’d like that.” I smile, shyness suddenly coming over me.

  We spend the rest of the afternoon catching up on the last four months, and basking in the beautiful summer day. A part of me starts sewing itself back together; the part that needed Asher so much but couldn’t heal without him.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Asher

  Summer in London is like nowhere else. We’re a people consumed by rain and fog, but for two short months, the weather is brilliant and the city is gleeful.

  It’s a paradise, meant for school children to play until dark and teenagers to roam the warm air after midnight, up to no good.

  “But we’re not normal teenagers,” I whisper as my fingers lace through Nora’s hand.

  “Stop being such a baby, don’t you go out after midnight all the time?” Her red hair blows in the moonlight, and I can’t help but watch this angelic creature lead me along the beach.

  At my suggestion, we took the train down to Brighton Beach for the weekend. We booked a room at a little bed-and-breakfast, and spent the last two days traipsing around the beach town, spending time on the rocky beaches and playing carnival games at the boardwalk. It’s been the perfect getaway, just time for her and I to bask in the last days of summer.

  We’ve spent the better part of a month and a half wrapped up in each other. When she’s not with her family or Eloise, and I’m not rowing or having Ed and Drake over at the flat, we are together. We don’t talk about how she’s going to leave at the end of the warm days, we don’t talk about what we are or if we’ll continue this. There is a freedom that comes with not defining it, but there is also a pressure in my chest every time I think about her flying halfway across the world and never looking back.

  “Why do we have to come out here now? We already saw the beach in the daylight,” I argue with her, freaked out about being out here alone.

  To be honest, I am being a giant wanker. Usually if I’m out this late, it’s in a limo or at a nightclub. Out here, with nothing but the waves and the silence and this beautiful girl, I’m a little shaken.

  “Because this is romantic, and because I want to. And you have to do whatever I say.”

  She was right of course … I’d been spending every minute with her making up for what I’d done. And although Nora hadn’t said it, I think she was almost there.

  We reach the middle of the beach, and she plops down, the waves the perfect backdrop to the night. “Come on, sit.”

  I sit down next to her and wrap my arm around her shoulder, rubbing her bare shoulder with my fingertips. I can’t wait to get her back to the hotel room, to undress her like I’ve done for so many nights now. To worship her exactly how she deserves.

  “Isn’t it beautiful? When I grow up, I’m moving somewhere that I can look at the ocean every single day. It’s always fascinated me.” Her voice is breathless.

  I press a kiss into her cheek. “Maybe you should study oceans then.”

  She turns her head and tilts it, curiosity peaking her expression. “Maybe I should.”

  Nora leans her body into mine and rests her head on my shoulder. “Sometimes I just want to sit here at the ocean’s edge and think about how small and insignificant we are. Like none of this royal, celebrity drama matters at all. None of the money or privilege matters.”

  Her words stir something inside of me, and I look out into the water, trying to find the meaning she’s looking at.

  “Maybe we are. Maybe none of it matters. But I like to think that there is a reason we were brought into that same world. The one of spoils and extras. I was blind before I met you, Nora. Stumbling around in the excess and ridiculousness. You showed me, after me fighting you tooth and nail, that there are more important things than money and power. Connections, people, love … those are the small things that mean so much. They’ve turned into the big things for me.”

  Twinkling hazel eyes stare at me in the moonlight. “Like your precious Beatles said, love is all you need.”

  My heart tingles, the feeling spreading to every crevice of my body. “You know that I love you, right?”

  My pulse doesn’t speed up, my stomach doesn’t drop. I’m so sure of my words, so normal with how they feel rolling out of my mouth. This is how I feel about her, and before she goes, she needs to know it.

  “Well, now I do.” Her lips press together and she tilts her chin, capturing my own mouth.

  Under the moonlight we kiss, the crash of the water drowning out the small sighs Nora emits. She doesn’t say it back to me, she doesn’t need to. Right now, in this moment, there are no promises and no plans being made. And I am completely okay with that.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Nora

  The glorious summer sun sets over the buildings, the rays casting shadows in every part of the apartment.

  “I’m kind of going to miss this place.”

  “You could stay, you know.”

  It’s the first time he’s mentioned me staying, but it’s not like he’s asking. Asher hasn’t begged me to stay, and I haven’t offered it. There was an unspoken agreement this summer not to speak about the future. About what came next.

  “Don’t get all sappy on me now, Frederick.” I saunter over to where he sits on the couch, the TV playing some soccer game on the opposite wall.

  “Do you want anymore of this before I put it away?” He points to the Indian food sprawled out on the coffee table.

  It’s our weekly Friday night takeout date, and I’m sad it will be our last. I leave for Pennsylvania tomorrow, and I push the thoughts out of my head, trying not to let them cloud our last night together. The past two months have been wonderful, and my heart squeezes at the thought of not seeing Asher every day.

  But I know I have to go.

  “No, I’m full. It was delicious, per usual. I bro
ught a little something special.” I walk to my bag and pull out the bottle I’ve been keeping in there.

  “And here I thought you don’t drink, love.” He smiles that crooked, cocky smile.

  “Well, I thought that it was a little celebration.” I set the bottle of champagne down on the table. “Plus, you know that I do like a little bubbly every now and then.”

  It’s amazing what a couple of months can do. When I first met him, he’d been power-hungry and into the scene, going out and causing havoc. Now? Most nights Asher and I just hang out at his apartment, go out to dinner, or go to the theater. We never party anymore, acting more like a middle aged couple than the freshly minted nineteen-year-olds we are. But I guess that’s what crisis and growing up was all about. Asher hadn’t been acting his age for years, too old for an innocent life. And I … I was thrust into growing up. With the press and what happened with Mom and Bennett … I had never been irresponsible, but the past year had really made me start seeing things in a new light.

  Asher pops the top and pours us each some champagne in two coffee mugs. He may have a trust fund and an apartment in Chelsea, but he sure is the eternal bachelor. Plates and a comforter from Primark and coffee mugs are his only source of housewares. It’s charming and so normal, it still makes me smile.

  “That is some good champagne. You must be rich.” Asher grins over the lip of his mug.

  I snuggle into him, relishing the feel of his arms. “I’m not, but I know someone with great taste.”

  We sip our champagne, holding on to each other like we’re scared the clock will hit midnight and one of us will turn into a pumpkin.

  After a while, the bubbles invade my brain, bliss spreading over my bones. I don’t want to talk anymore, and Asher can sense it. He takes the glass from my hand, and sets it down on the table next to his.

  Gently, he holds his hand out to me and I take it, and together we walk to his bedroom. The simple queen bed sits against the wall, unassuming. A sadness sweeps over me that it may be the last time I sleep next to him, but I push it aside.

  We meet in the middle, our lips seeking each other, trying to express everything we can’t say in this moment. Our bodies melt together, doing the things we’ve learned how to do expertly.

  Each touch, each taste, awakens the part of me that only Asher knows how to speak to. My core ignites when he pulls the straps of my romper down, pushing the material past my hips until it pools at my feet. Once his hands start to explore, I can’t help but ache for the touch of his skin against my own fingers. His shirt is there and gone in a second, both of us helping to take it off.

  Once we’re skin-to-skin, it’s as if the gun has gone off and no one is waiting for the sprint to the finish. We may be going slow, but nibbles and sucks and strokes are everywhere. Each piece of my flesh lights up as he plays it like a finely tuned instrument. And in turn I key him up, cataloging every noise and reaction, storing it away for a rainy day.

  The covers are pulled back and hot skin meets cool sheets. The creak of the bedside drawer has my core blushing, knowing what’s coming. And then he’s over me, his eyes holding the things we don’t say. All of the love between us gets trapped between the blankets, swirling around and igniting our bones as he slowly slides into me.

  Our gasps mix in the air, colliding as our hips meet and retreat, meet and retreat. This isn’t sex, this isn’t craving another body. Tonight is charged with emotion. Asher rocks into me slowly, our hands never parting and our eyes never breaking.

  When we finally reach the edge, a tear rolls down my cheek. Something is slipping right through my fingers, and I can’t grab hold.

  So I pull Asher as close as I can, memorizing his scent, his feel, his face in the moment that he unravels. A new chapter is beginning, one where I’ll have to leave him behind. And while the future is bright, it is also bitter.

  I let myself fall asleep in his arms, reveling in the last moments of summer and Asher.

  Epilogue

  Nora

  Six Months Later

  I wrap the coat a little tighter around my neck, the cold city wind whipping at the wool. Unmelted patches of snow line the streets, dotting the sidewalks like puffs of dirty clouds.

  All around me, people bustle to their destination, seeking warmth. My books jostle in the shoulder bag I have slung over my right arm, and as I near the building, I can’t wait to get inside. The blast of hot air greets me like a warm friend, and I shake away the cold sticking to my bones.

  It’s where I come most every day. To stem the anxiety, to get my brain off of being alone in a city that feels like home but also like the strangest place on earth. The gym has become my haven, something I never thought I’d say. But running the miles, lifting the heavy objects … it seems to calm my panic attacks in a way that I’ve never been able to conquer them before.

  With the extra studying and course load of my first semester of freshman year, I’ve tried to keep myself as even keel as possible. Coming out of the fall with straight As and a plan on what I wanted to do—oceanography and marine geology—I felt grounded and on track.

  But I still felt lonely. I’d made friends, some nice girls on my floor helped to pull me out of my funk and show me some great places around Philadelphia. Bennett and Mom made a monthly trip out, which I told them was unnecessary, but they insisted that it was good for international relations.

  And I missed Asher. A lot. I hadn’t found, or tried even, to branch out and date since coming to UPenn. There were a couple of guys I’d encountered who seemed like they would have liked to ask, but I shut it down before they were even able to. We texted now and then, talked on the phone when either of us got a free half an hour with the time difference and all of our activities. Which was close to never. All in all, I hadn’t heard much from him.

  I think we both realized how hard it was, keeping in touch but wondering if the other was seeing someone. Wondering what was happening when either of us wasn’t there. We were leading separate lives, and though I missed him like a gaping hole in my heart, I couldn’t bring myself to emotionally hurt anymore. And that’s what would happen if we talked every day. Because just talking wouldn’t be enough.

  “Hey, Nora.” One of the girls at the front desk waves to me as I walk in.

  The campus might be big, but I’m here at the same time everyday, so the staff has come to know me. “Hey, Beth. Cold out there today.”

  She nods. “Frigid. But hopefully next month brings us some better weather.”

  I hold up my crossed fingers at her and head downstairs to the locker room. Throwing my book bag, jacket and hat in the locker, I tie my hair up in a ponytail and make my way to the section of the fitness center that houses all of the treadmills and elliptical machines. Popping my headphones into my ears, I hit play on my selection of gym-approved music and get to work.

  My legs pound the tread, adrenaline warming my muscles up. In front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, I watch my reflection sprint as the cold wind blows up drifts of snow from the sidewalk. Sweat drips down my back, and my music bumps to the beat in my head. Slowly, I feel the tension drain from my body, nothing left but the focus on breathing and making it through the next mile.

  When I finally finish, four miles in thirty-five minutes, I’m tired and sated. Typically, I’d do twenty or thirty minutes of weight work, but for some reason I don’t want to. Deciding to listen to my body, I walk the stairs down to the locker room.

  Only to run smack dab into a tall body when I round the corner.

  “Oof, I’m sorry.” A familiar British accent hits my ears, and my entire body relaxes and goes stiff at the same time.

  Pulling back, I blink so hard that I feel like my eyeballs might fall out. “What in the world are you doing here? Is this real?”

  I reach out, touching the body I’ve touched so many times, but not in a very long time.

  A chuckle rings out as I brush my hand down his T-shirt covered abs. “If this was a dream, would y
ou be able to touch me?”

  “I don’t know, I’m not sure how that all works. Asher! What are you doing here?” I feel close to tears.

  He takes my hand and pulls me around the corner, where we can have a little more privacy from the prying eyes that have begun to watch us. I feel delirious, out of my body. Things like this don’t happen to me. But I guess … I am my mother’s daughter and she was whisked off of her feet by a prince so maybe they do.

  “Well, I’m getting in my first workout with the rowing team.” His green eyes take multiple sweeps of my body, seeming to inventory if everything is still the same.

  I hit his shoulder. “Wiseass, not here, in this fitness center … what are you doing here, in Pennsylvania?!”

  I’m still in such shock that I can’t keep my voice down. I want to both talk to him and tackle him at the same time.

  His brow arches, and he gives a cheeky grin. “Oh, you mean that. So … I went to Oxford first term, as you know, and when it was time to go back, I just couldn’t. I’m not cut out for the prestige and pompous attitudes anymore. Every person there measured me up to the Frederick name, and I got tired of it. I needed a change, a new tradition. And I miss you, bloody miss you like crazy. So I put in my transfer papers and decided to take my first prolonged trip to the States.”

  My system is freaking out, every inch of excitement and built-up feeling of needing him bursting out at once. I don’t hesitate anymore, but jump into his arms, Asher’s strong muscles catching me up as I crush my mouth to his.

  Tidal waves of this feeling, the sense of coming home, crash into me. With each meeting of our lips, the rhythm of our tongues moving together, overwhelming relief floods me.

 

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