Dating Washington (Discovering Me Book 2)

by Ann Craven

  “And don’t think Asher Brooks’ absence has been missed. Were you with the gay kid?” His mom’s perpetual scowl deepened.

  They reached the front walk where a car waited to take them to their DC townhome.

  His mother continued to blather on about Asher not being their type of people, and Kenny couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Stop it!” he yelled.

  The driver opened the back door of the car, but Kenny refused to slide in, not until he’d said everything he needed to say.

  “Kenneth.” His father’s grip tightened. “Watch your tone.”

  “Why do you hate them so much?”

  “I don’t hate anyone.”

  “Bullshit. Do they frighten you?”

  “Don’t be stupid, son.”

  “Well, guess what—” Kenny never got to finish his statement because bile rose in his throat, and he hunched forward, spilling the contents of his stomach onto his father’s thousand-dollar shoes.

  8

  Asher

  “Dump water on him.”

  “Nope, he will come up swinging. Dad has the scars to prove it.”

  “It’s like trying to wake the dead. Are you guys sure he’s all right?”

  “How much did he drink last night?”

  “I’m going to pull his hair.”

  “Touch the hair and die, Beckett,” Asher mumbled from under his covers. His head throbbed, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

  “Wake up, birthday boy.” Beckett and Nicky bounced on his bed.

  Asher sat up, shoving the covers off his head as his stomach heaved. “I’m going to be sick.”

  “Drink this, little brother, it’s a magic hangover cure.” His sister shoved a cold bottle of water in his hands.

  “Water?” He rolled his eyes at her. “Really?”

  “Really. The alcohol dehydrates you, so you rehydrate, and you feel better.”

  Asher brought the bottle to his lips and as the water passed his parched lips, he wasn’t sure he’d ever tasted anything as wonderful as ice-cold water. It helped, but he still felt like puking. “What the hell happened last night? And why are you all so cheery?”

  “I only had a few drinks,” Caroline said, “but I don’t think I was cool enough to get invited to your pool party. Besides, I think my stylists would murder me if I jumped in the pool wearing couture.”

  “I don’t drink.” Nicky smiled.

  “I had a few beers.” Becks shrugged. “You gotta be careful with champagne, kid. It’s all fuzzy and sweet, but it’ll get you hammered. Especially that expensive stuff.”

  “Ugh, I don’t normally drink more than a few sips.” Asher didn’t really like the effects of alcohol. He didn’t like losing his inhibitions when the least little thing he did could cause repercussions for his parents. But last night, he was looking for an escape, and he’d found it, but he wasn’t proud of it.

  “Knock, knock,” Danny’s voice drifted in from the hall.

  “What is happening right now?” Asher frowned at the series of dining carts the kitchen staff wheeled into his room.

  “Your birthday breakfast is served.” Nicky sat pretzel style on the edge of the bed.

  “Food?” Asher’s stomach heaved again. “I can’t handle whatever’s on that cart.” The thought of eggs and bacon and all the heavy breakfast foods the kitchen likely sent up was more than he could stomach. He covered his mouth and reached for his bottle of water when Becks made a show of unveiling his breakfast feast.

  He laughed before he could get the bottle to his lips. “Cereal?” He grinned when he saw every assortment of sugary and healthy cereals displayed on the carts. “I am way more excited about this cereal buffet than I should be.” He crept out of his bed, aware of his rumpled T-shirt and too-big basketball shorts. His hair probably looked awful too, but he didn’t care.

  “It’s pretty sad they don’t let you eat cereal, man,” Becks said around a mouthful of Lucky Charms. “That’s like a staple in our house.”

  “We’d probably starve without it,” Nicky added.

  “Oh, you guys are living together now?” Asher asked as he made the first of many bowls of cereal he planned to eat this morning. This was so much better than a fancy party with people he didn’t know.

  “No, when Becks says ‘our house’ he means the apartment I share with my brother and Nari. Becks lives across the hall when he’s home from the tour, but there’s never any food there. He would die if we didn’t feed him.”

  “It’s only funny because it’s true.” Becks nodded gravely. “Pass me the Froot Loops.”

  “Don’t you want fresh milk, man?” Asher frowned at him. “You cannot mix your Lucky Charms milk with your Froot Loops milk. That’s just Cereal 101.”

  “I like to live dangerously.”

  “You guys are too adorable for words, aren’t you?” Caroline said.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Becks tipped his imaginary cowboy hat at her.

  “I’m going to leave you boys to your cereal and cartoons.” Caroline stood to leave. “And, Ash”—she paused at the door—“you’ve got about an hour before Mom and Dad descend on you with their birthday presents.”

  “Thanks, sis.” Asher poured himself a bowl of Count Chocula, his favorite. He didn’t think they even made it anymore.

  “Where’s the remote,” Becks asked.

  “Dresser.” Asher nodded across the room.

  “Becks, that’s rude, babe.” Nicky elbowed him in the ribs.

  “Hey, the lady said there would be cartoons.” Becks sat back against the headboard, sandwiching Asher between himself and Nicky.

  “Now, this is a good birthday.” Asher smiled at his two friends, sitting on his bed eating cereal and watching cartoons like they were five.

  “I hear lots of laughter coming from this room.” Asher’s mom peeked inside her son’s room.

  “Good morning, Madam President.” Becks scrambled from his spot on the bed and gave her a formal bow. “Always a pleasure, ma’am.”

  “Is he always so silly?” She actually giggled, her cheeks blushing.

  “Pretty much,” Nicky said. “But thank you for having us, Madame President.”

  “You can call me Nora when it’s just us.” She winked. “And I’m so glad you two could make it. I hear there was one hell of a party at my pool house last night.”

  “Sorry about that, ma’am,” Becks said in that charming way of his. “But the boy deserved a real party for his birthday—not that your party wasn’t cool too.”

  Nicky hid his face behind his hands, and Asher just laughed.

  The president threw her head back and laughed with her son. “We do know how to throw the dullest parties here in Washington, don’t we? We knew something was going on when all the college and high school kids disappeared at dinner and the staff was scrambling to keep you guys warm and dry outside the heated pool.”

  “I thought about ditching the banquet when I saw three of the staff rolling heat lamps out toward the West Wing,” Asher’s dad added as he came in to join them. “I knew there was probably a much better party wherever you all disappeared to.”

  “Sorry, Mom,” Asher said, scratching the back of his head. “It just kind of happened. I hope we didn’t end up on the news for it.”

  “Oh, but we did.” Becks laughed, pulling his phone from his pocket. Clearing his throat, he read, “The White House turned into the House of Beckett last night when the singing sensation Beckett Anderson—that’s me—serenaded his biggest fan, First Kid Asher Brooks—that’s you—on the night of his eighteenth birthday bash. White House sources say the State affair turned into an impromptu pool party on this cold October night when the birthday boy and his closest friends opted for a late-night swim in the heated pool, in lieu of the formal banquet dinner his mother—none other than the POTUS herself—had planned for them inside.”

  “Sorry, kid, it seems I took the headlines from last night.” Becks shook his head with reg
ret.

  “Don’t listen to him,” Nicky said. “He just looked for the one article that mentioned him more than you.”

  “No bad press then?” Asher eyed his parents.

  “None you need to worry about, kiddo.”

  “Well, Nick-Nick, we need to get going.” Becks tugged his boyfriend against his side. “Our flight leaves at noon, and I think our man, Ash has somewhere to be.”

  “Nah, I don’t have plans. Wish you guys could stay a little longer.”

  “Maybe next time.” Becks grabbed his hand and gave him a man hug, complete with a back slap. “I have to get back to the tour, and Nicky has school.”

  “You should come visit Nashville sometime,” Nicky said, offering Asher a much more understated hug. “It’s boring with this guy on the road all the time.”

  “Yeah, I’ll try to make it out there sometime soon.” Asher tried not to show too much enthusiasm, but he so rarely got to leave Washington he’d jump at any chance to get out of this town—if that meant he got to see his friends too, then even better. Hell, he’d go see Kenny if it got him out of politics for a day. But the thought of Kenny brought memories of last night crashing back into his mind. Memories he’d rather forget.

  “Text us when you get back.” Becks called over his shoulder as he and Nicky left his room.

  “Back?” Asher frowned.

  “Hush, babe, you’ll ruin the surprise.” He heard Nicky’s patient voice down the hall.

  “Where am I going?” Asher looked at his parents.

  “Get dressed, we’re going to Camp David for a few days.” His mom shoved him toward his closet.

  “Really?” Camp David was his favorite place on the planet. It was the closest thing to a normal home he’d ever experienced, and Asher loved it.

  “I’ll see you in the helicopter, birthday boy.” She left to go make her final arrangements for the trip.

  “Like, how many days? Two?” he asked, hoping for at least three.

  “Four,” his dad said.

  “Don’t joke. Four days?” They never got to stay that long unless it was a pre-planned vacation that took months of organizing schedules to manage.

  “Four whole days, and we’re leaving in, like, twenty minutes so you better hurry up and do something with that hangover hair.”

  “I need to pack!” Asher lunged for his closet.

  “Your sister packed for you last night while you were having a pool party. Meet us on the south lawn when you’re ready.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Happy birthday, son. I’m proud of you.”

  “For what?” Asher glanced back at his father.

  “Just for being you, Ash.”

  “Do you really need eight pairs of Target jeans, son?” Asher’s mom asked, looking ridiculous in her disguise. Their stylists had helped them conceal their identities before they left Camp David this morning to sneak off to Target for some guilty pleasure shopping. He wouldn’t recognize his mom if he hadn’t seen her transformation into a green-eyed redhead with his own eyes.

  “You have no idea how much I need these in my life.” Asher clutched the stack of comfortably loose jeans to his chest. “I’ll have to hide them from Carlie, or she’ll throw them away. She insists on putting me in tight skinny jeans.”

  “She’s your stylist, it’s her job to make you look nice, Ash. And she does her job well. But if you’re getting comfortable jeans, I’m getting T-shirts while we’re here. I’ll meet you in the bakery, and we’ll pick out a cake for dessert, and then we’ll go to that burger place you like to order dinner.”

  Asher smiled as the President of the United States turned her shopping cart around and headed to the women’s department at the local Target in Thurmont, Maryland.

  Of course, the secret service was everywhere, but they blended in with the other shoppers and kept a close eye on them. It probably wasn’t the best idea to go incognito, but it was one of his favorite things to do with his mom. This was just the first time they’d attempted it since she became president.

  Asher took off for the toy department to look for board games. He had his eye on a new Settlers of Catan expansion pack, but he wouldn’t admit that to anyone outside his family. He was supposed to be this cool, gay, fashion icon, but in reality, he was just a quiet kid who spent most of his time alone.

  Asher often wondered what kind of person he would have been if he hadn’t grown up under the microscope of the White House.

  “Get the Seafarers pack, it’s the best,” an unfamiliar voice said. “Traders and Barbarians is too fussy.”

  It was a jarring sensation to be approached by a stranger in Asher’s world. It caught him off guard for a moment. “Uh, thanks, man,” Asher said, reaching to make sure his hair was still tucked inside his hat. It would only be a matter of seconds before Danny and his minions swooped in to steer the boy away from him. He could see them coming now, closing in the circle around him, but Danny intercepted them, letting Asher have his privacy for a moment longer.

  “You can start playing Seafarers pretty much right away.” The boy reached for the blue box, oblivious of the security situation going on around him. “This set up is the best.” He pointed to the huge map on the back of the box. “You can pick up the new rules as you go. Traders and Barbarians has cool stuff too, but it’s not really a pick up and play kind of expansion you’d want to introduce on game night.”

  “Yeah, my mom would get frustrated with too many new rules,” Asher said, taking the box from the super cute but dorky guy beside him.

  “Your mom?” The boy laughed, and Asher’s heart sank. Even among the gaming nerds of the world, it was so not cool to spend game night hanging out with your mom.

  “Yeah, well, she insists on family game night every couple of months.”

  “Your mom sounds cool. My mom forgot how to have fun years ago. She lost that ability the same place she lost her sense of humor.”

  Asher relaxed. “I’d rather play with my friends. They aren’t as vicious as she is.” He laughed, wondering if Becks and Nicky were the board game types. Harper was, for sure. Maybe he could plan an actual game night with friends—now that he had more than one.

  “Well, hope you enjoy it.” He gave Asher a wink and walked away with a set of gaming dice and a pack of some kind of trading cards. I could definitely be into cute gaming geeks. He placed the expansion pack in his cart and set off to meet his mother in the bakery. She was likely still picking out T-shirts, so he stopped by the electronic department on the way, feeling about as normal as Asher Brooks had ever been.

  Asher reached for his phone in the darkness, unable to sleep. Again. Barely three days ago, he’d received his first kiss…ever. It was a train wreck, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Or what it meant when the one who’d done the kissing wasn’t even gay. Was Kenny trying to mock him? Or had it actually meant something to him? Was there some truth to what the media said about him?

  Asher scrolled through Kenny’s Instagram profile…not for the first time. He didn’t know why he bothered. His feed was full of hockey stuff and the occasional image of Kenny at Defiance Academy. It looked like he was living on campus now even though the school was in the same town where his parents lived. Kenny’s parents spent a lot of time in Washington these days. Had they just stuck their kid in boarding school to keep him out of trouble and away from the spotlight? As much of an ass as Kenny Montgomery was, Asher felt kind of sorry for him.

  Asher almost scrolled past a picture of himself with Kenny from years ago. They were at Kenny’s house in Twin Rivers during his father’s second campaign. They must have been about twelve at the time. It was a good memory. Asher tapped on the heart button below the image without thinking.

  “No! Undo, undo!” He tapped at the screen only to unclick and reclick the heart again. “Stop spazzing, Ash.” He dropped his phone on the bed in front of him before he could do any more damage. Calmly, he unclicked the heart button. It was early in the morn
ing, so would Kenny even see it? Did he have push notifications on? If you unliked a photo right away, did the app take back the push notification? “Crap.” He sat back against his headboard.

  “One failed sort of half-kiss, and now he knows I’m stalking him.” Asher beat his head against the upholstered headboard. “It couldn’t have been a recent post I liked. No, it had to be something so far back in his profile it’s practically a fossil.”

  He grabbed his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He still had Kenny’s number as long as it hadn’t changed. “One little text could clear this up.” He started typing.

  Asher: Hey, Kenny. It was good to see you again …

  “That’s so stupid, Ash.” He erased the text and started over. Several times. How did you tell someone you didn’t mean to like their post and not sound like a total loser?

  Asher: Hey, so I found this old picture of us from ...

  “Just stop while you’re ahead.” Asher deleted the text but the phone fumbled out of his hand and slid between the headboard and the mattress, landing on the floor under the bed. He leaped off the bed and scrambled to reach his phone.

  “Oh my God, what did you just do, you idiot!” Asher lay on the floor and stared at the screen, his stomach coming to rest somewhere between his lungs. He’d sent a text. And not a good one. “How am I so bad at this?” Staring back at him wasn’t a “Hey, how you doing?” text. He could live with that. Instead, he’d sent Kenny a boxing glove emoji. A nonsensical, accidental drive-by boxing emoji.

  “Knock, knock.” Knuckles drummed against his door just before his father stepped inside his room. “Oh, good you’re up.”

  “Yeah, I’m up.” Asher continued to stare at his phone screen unsure what he should do. Then three little dots started bouncing beneath his stupid text, and Asher clicked the screen off. He couldn’t handle a response from Kenny at six a.m.