Restrictions

by Nicole Dykes

  “I take good care of his mother.” It feels fucking dirty coming out of my mouth, and she’s above it, but I don’t back down.

  “For how long?” He takes a step closer to me. “How long before you’re bored?”

  My throat dries. “It’ll be fine.”

  “Bullshit. She’s a single mother. I have no idea what lies you told her to get her to engage in this fucking dumbass affair, but whatever it is . . . it will end badly. And Baz is going to get hurt.”

  “I’ll never hurt him.”

  “Fucking his mother and not loving her. Not committing to her. That hurts him.”

  He doesn’t think any more of me than I do him. And although he’s not wrong, it stings. “I have it under control.”

  He shakes his head. “You care about her. I see it.” My jaw ticks as my teeth clench, but I'm surprised and try like hell not to show it. “I know you don’t want to hurt either of them, but you have so much to learn, and you can’t play with her heart.”

  “Fucking hypocrite.”

  “Learn from me.”

  What? I stare at him, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s talking about. “I’m not you.”

  His eyes are unreadable, but I swear I see a flicker of pain in his eyes. “I know.”

  He turns away from me, and I'm not sure what just happened. “I won’t hurt her.” For whatever reason I feel the need to explain, even if it’s to his back. “She knows I don’t want anything serious, and she doesn’t have time for anything serious anyway. We have it under control.”

  He doesn’t turn back to me. “Nothing but chaos is coming your way, little brother.” His voice softens as he heads toward the door. “And I’d give anything to save you from it.”

  He opens the patio door and leaves me alone outside.

  That could have gone worse. I wait for a while outside, staring at the water and the sky as they seem to meet.

  I don’t need Linc to save me, but there is someone under that roof who can pull me from the depths of my own hatred.

  At least for the moments I allow myself to get lost in her.

  I untangle my limbs from Asher’s and climb out of my comfortable bed at Lincoln and Penelope’s.

  He didn’t say one word when he came back in after I put Baz down for bed. It was clear he just needed to get lost. And I let him.

  I’ll let him again and again.

  I stare at him, lying in the bed, his hair a matted, gorgeous mess, gloriously naked.

  My heart clenches tight as I place my hand over my chest trying to rub away the dull ache, slipping into my pajama pants and matching shirt. I quietly open the door and close it behind me, knowing I should probably wake him and ask him to go to his room, but I don’t.

  I check on Baz and see he’s fast asleep, but as I'm closing his door, I gasp, clutching my chest when I see Lola standing there with two glasses of wine as she smiles and holds one out to me.

  “Lola?” I whisper as I take on of the stemless wineglasses.

  “Let’s go out there.” She nods to the door leading to a cute patio separate from the pool area. The patio has a fire pit, a classy, chic two-seater chair, and two matching single chairs. She sits down on the chair for two and pats the spot next to her, still clutching her wine glass.

  I take the seat next to her and take a small sip of wine, feeling like I'm going to need it.

  “I didn’t know you were staying tonight.”

  “I thought it would be nice to spend the night under the same roof as my family.” She tucks her shoulder-length blond hair behind her ear and takes a drink, savoring it. “It’s been a while.”

  I hate the pain this family has endured. “That’s great.”

  Lola is hard to read. Her face is steel, not to say that she’s cold, but she is most definitely strong. She takes another drink, and then her eyes meet mine. “How long have you guys been sleeping together?”

  I’m not a fool. I knew that when I moved in with Asher, people would speculate. I’m sure they all had their assumptions, but I also knew that when I came out of the laundry room, the mixture of our hot hookup still between my legs, and my hair a mess, they would all know.

  “I . . .” I falter. Because her eyes are so full of absolute anguish, it nearly breaks me.

  “Before you moved in together?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “Before you came to California?”

  I study her, her expression still completely unwavering, not giving anything away. “Why does it matter?”

  I try not to sound defensive. I care about Lola. I know she cares about Sebastian at the very least, and I don’t want to make her my enemy. She places her wine glass on the wooden rim of the chair and turns her body toward mine. “Because you’re in love with him.”

  An astonishing gasp falls from my lips as I stare at her, jolted from her statement. I fight the tears swelling in my eyes and try my hardest to appear strong. “People have sex all the time without feelings.”

  Again. No emotion. How does she do that? “Not you.”

  She’s the second Sterling to tell me how I feel, and it annoys me greatly as I steel my spine. “I wasn’t in love with Colt when I had sex with him.”

  Now she flinches. For the first time. Her face morphs, overtaken by emotion when I say her brother’s name, but it only lasts a brief moment. “Fine.” She lets out a soft breath. “But not you with Asher.”

  “I’m not in love with Asher.”

  “You don’t have to lie to me.”

  “I’m not.” It’s not convincing. Not to her. Not to me.

  “I saw the way you jumped up from the table when he was hurting. I saw the absolute need inside you to comfort him.”

  “We’re friends.”

  “He cares about you too.”

  “Because we’re friends.”

  Her hand smooths over my knee in a comforting, big sister gesture as her eyes meet mine. “He may even love you too.”

  My heart speeds up at the mere thought, and I pray she can’t tell. “We aren’t in love. It’s an arrangement. Nothing more.”

  “A friends with benefits sort of thing?” I nod. Knowing how ridiculous it sounds. “Unfortunately for you, I really care about you, Vivienne.”

  I cock my head to the left, confused by what she’s saying. “Why is that unfortunate?”

  “Because I'm brutally honest with the people I care about.” Her hand curves over my knee and her eyes grab mine, holding on. “This is fucking stupid.”

  I stare, my mouth slightly agape. I close it and try to think of a rebuttal.

  “You guys cannot just have sex and be friends and raise Baz together, saying you don’t have feelings for one another. You’re going to get hurt.”

  “I would never hurt Asher.”

  I see pity in her eyes as her head tilts to the side. “No. You’re going to get hurt.”

  “He’s really not the monster you all make him out to be.” I bite and then think better of it, sinking back into the cushion.

  “He’s not. Not at all, but he’s young. Very young.”

  “He’s a year younger than me.”

  Her eyes are knowing. “You had a child young which forced you to grow up, and you have. You are strong and mature. He has so much growing left to do.”

  I hate that I know she’s right. I don’t want to admit it. “He’s changed a lot.”

  She nods, and I see she isn’t trying to be my enemy . . . she’s trying her best to be my ally. “He has, and he is . . .” She sighs sadly. “He is so strong, but he doesn’t know it. He doesn’t know who he is, and that isn’t good for anybody.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t want to stop.”

  It’s not a question, and I shake my head from side to side, flames heating my cheeks from shame. “No.”

  “The longer it goes on, the worse it will hurt.” She laughs sadly. “I’m assuming.”

  I wonder if she’s been through thi
s before and what she has to hide because it seems like all the Sterlings have deep, dark secrets of their own. “I know.”

  She nods her head slowly, being cautious. “I love all my brothers.” Her eyes full of pain and regret meet mine. “But I let them down. I was so lost in my own world that I didn’t see all of them drowning. Not just Colt.”

  When she says Colt’s name it’s a strangled whisper, the pain cutting deep. “You were so young.”

  “Not that young. And I saw it all. I just didn’t stop it. So now, I'm trying my best when I see one of them drowning . . . going under . . .” Her eyes close momentarily, and then she opens them. “I’m going to do my best to pull them up. And that includes you and Penelope because whether either of you like it or not, . . . I’m your sister now too.”

  I stare into her gaze, and I know how much she means it. “Thank you.”

  I hate that I have to talk to Asher about this. That I broke the promise I made.

  I fell for him, and there’s no way we’re coming back from this unscathed.

  The rest of the trip was uneventful. More going through the motions bullshit that my family is fucking phenomenal at. Because we’re all dead inside—every single one of us. Even if they plaster a smile on their faces. Even if Lincoln and Penelope are doing their best to appear happy.

  None of us are.

  And they’ll never convince me otherwise.

  Vivienne was quiet for the rest of the trip, soaking in the utter shitshow that is the Sterlings, I suppose.

  It’s late when we get back to the house, and Baz is fast asleep when we climb out of the Uber. I carry him up to his bed and lay him down, the little guy barely moving as I tuck him in.

  Viv lays a kiss to his temple, and we exit his room. Her eyes meet mine in the dim hallway, only lit by the moonlight filtering in from the window at the end of the hall. “Goodnight, Asher.”

  I study her, slightly disappointed she isn’t coming with me, but I don’t allow myself to show any vulnerability.

  “Goodnight, Viv.”

  She turns and starts toward her bedroom, and my entire soul is yearning to go after her.

  I scrub a hand over my face and try to talk myself out of doing that.

  Don’t follow her.

  Do not be her little bitch boy.

  That’s not you.

  I see her bedroom light turn on with the flick of her hand as she disappears inside.

  Ah, fuck it.

  I follow her into her room and close the door behind me, making sure to push the lock in. She turns to me, standing by her dresser, and it almost infuriates me how incredibly beautiful she is. “Asher.” Her voice seems strange. “I’m tired.”

  I move near her, a smirk playing on my lips. “I don’t mind doing all the work.”

  Her bottom lip folds under her teeth, and I feel victorious, knowing she wants me as bad as I want her. My body stalks hers, pressing flush against her as she faces the mirror above the dresser, her hands planted firmly on the oak top.

  My mouth nuzzles her neck, my tongue darting out to get just a small taste, wanting every bit of her. Craving her.

  “Asher . . .”

  It’s a plea from her lips, but I don’t think she’s begging for what I want her to be asking from me. She spins around, now in my cage as I place a hand on each side of her.

  “What is it?”

  I hate how conflicted she appears, her lips quivering, and her eyes refuse to meet mine.

  I reach one hand up from the dresser and sweep it across her face. “What’s going on?” Is there someone else? Does she want to date? Explore more dick? What the hell is going on?

  I watch her elegant throat stretch tight as she lifts her eyes to meet mine, and that’s when I notice they’re glossy from tears that haven’t fallen.

  My heartrate slows as I stare into her eyes, begging her to tell me what’s wrong. Also pleading with her not to because I don’t want to know.

  “What’s. Wrong?” My voice is forceful because I can’t take it anymore.

  Her voice is shaky, almost unrecognizable as she looks past me, not directly in the eyes. “I’m in love with you.”

  What?

  What the fuck did she just say?

  I marinate on that simple sentence for what seems like an eternity as her watery eyes meet mine, and I feel like I'm dying. “You’re what?”

  Her gaze stays trained on me now, her voice more confident. “I’m in love with you.”

  I shake my head, taking a step back, releasing her from my cage and trying to inflate my lungs again. “No. You’re not.”

  Her back remains against her solid dresser. “Yes. I am.”

  Where the hell did this come from? We were doing fine. I study her and then a sick realization hits me. “My family.”

  But which member of my family. Not really Linc’s style. He really only loved to fuck with Penelope. My mother doesn’t really pry.

  My throat is dry as I answer my own question in a croak, “Lola.”

  Her quick flinch tells me I guessed appropriately. “Asher . . .”

  “No. Look, I don’t know what the fuck she said, but you do not love me.”

  “I do.” She looks as broken as I feel because that’s it, and we both know it. If she thinks she loves me, it’s over.

  I take a step back toward her, getting into her face, smelling her minty breath “No.”

  “Asher . . .” It’s another gasp from between her pretty pink lips.

  “Stop saying my name,” I growl, unable to take it.

  “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t lying when we first . . .” Her eyes wander toward the bed and then back to me. “I really thought I could handle it.”

  “And I told you, you couldn’t.” My voice is harsh along with my words, but I'm seeing red, knowing everything is fucked.

  “I know.” I watch her chest rise with a deep breath, and I hate how weak and vulnerable her voice sounds. “I think you fell for me too.”

  I swallow what tastes like bile, knowing I'm going to hurt her. “No. It’s not real. I told you this would get confusing. Fucking. Talking.” My eyes darken. “You kept insisting on talking.”

  “We’re friends.”

  “Exactly. We’re friends, but you and your fucking chick brain . . .” Fuck! I want to scream, but I don’t want to wake Baz. I point to my chest keeping my voice low. “You see a broken boy. One who you’re dying to fix. You think that you can offer your body to me and eventually lend an ear after we fuck, and then eventually, you’ll heal me.”

  I see the pain I'm causing her, but I can’t allow myself to get sucked into this fantasy. “I think we could work.”

  I shake my head, and I have to remind myself not to be too cruel. “Okay, Viv.” Her head tilts to the side, waiting for me to laugh or tell her it’s never going to happen, but instead I cup her jaw in my large hand, letting my thumb brush over her bottom lip. “Say we try this thing. A real relationship, commitment, love—the whole fucking thing.”

  Her eyes watch mine, just waiting for the cruel reality because she’s not stupid. “I’m twenty, but sure, you want me to tell you I'm ready to settle down and commit to one woman for the rest of my life.”

  She pushes my hand away. “No, I suppose you need to whore around for another ten years or so.”

  “Probably.”

  Her pretty eyes roll, and she doesn’t entertain a reply.

  “Let’s get lost in the fantasy though, right?” She’s pissed, and I can’t lie, I love seeing the fire in her eyes as I lay out the fucked-up scenario. “Let’s say we commit. We become a couple. Get married.” My hand swipes over her flat stomach. “You pop out a couple more beautiful kids. And we’re really fucking happy.”

  “Would that be so bad?”

  I shake my head, staring at her pretty face. “Not at first. At first,” my lips brush over hers, “it would be bliss.”

  I don’t kiss her. I resist the urge and look into her eyes. “It would be.”
<
br />   “But then . . .” My voice is hoarse. “Then it wouldn’t be. Then I’d get bored. I’ll fucking stray, and you’ll know because I won’t even try to hide it. And instead of telling me to fuck off like you would right now because right now, you’re strong.” She’s so fucking strong, even if she doesn't know it. “Viv, you’ll go back to the old you after being worn down by me.” My fucking heart feels like it’s breaking into a million pieces inside my chest, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it because I keep going even when her breath hitches in her throat and I feel the pain I'm causing her. “You’ll try your best to make everything perfect. You’ll blame yourself for my affairs, thinking if you can be the perfect wife, I'll stay. I’ll fucking destroy you.”

  She shakes her head, her hand covering her throat, and I know she’s trying to keep from crying because it all hurts too much. Because it’s true, the truth hurts. And I've never been more honest.

  “You wouldn’t do that to me, Asher.”

  “I’m a Sterling.” She looks away, rejecting my reasoning, and I take her chin in my hand and gently turn her to face me. “It’s what we do. We fucking pillage. We destroy the good.”

  She shakes her head, and I offer her an example, one that stings just to think about.

  “Colt was the best guy I ever knew, but he was a Sterling . . .” My forehead leans against hers as I breathe her in. “And he fucked you when he was dating and nearly engaged to Penelope.”

  Her eyes lift to meet mine, and I lose the contact with the skin of her forehead. “You aren’t him.”

  “He was better.”

  She shakes her head and strokes my cheek with her hand. “It doesn’t have to happen that way. Penelope and Lincoln are happy.”

  “For. Now.” I place my hand over hers that’s currently resting against my face. “I’ll shatter you into a million pieces, and then some other motherfucker will come and pick up the pieces. Putting you back together because I destroyed you.” A tear falls down her cheek, and she sniffles, and I close my eyes, leaning my forehead against hers again. “I don’t want to be your first husband.”

  “I hate your honesty.”

  I smile sadly. “No, you don’t.”

  She takes a step back, wiping her cheek. “You’re right though. That story . . .” She swallows and looks sick. “That’s exactly my parents. My father loves to cheat, but my mother refuses to end it. Even though it seems like he’s been trying to get her to for years.” She laughs, but there’s no happiness. It’s not her usual light laugh I love. “We are so cliché. Rich kids with unhappy parents.”