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Beckett grinned. “I know.” He sounded completely unbothered by the accusation, like it was just a given. Then he took the hand that he’d fingered me with and stuck the glistening fingers in his mouth, licking them clean.
Beckett
I leftEve sleeping in our bed the next morning and grabbed the bag I’d already packed. I’d decided yesterday before I met her at the library what I needed to do. I didn’t tell her because I didn’t want her to stop me.
Telling her brother was my responsibility, and I was taking care of it. It wasn’t something you told someone over the phone, either.
“Hey, Asher, how’s Colorado? Oh, I’ve fallen in love with your sister, by the way.”
No. That was not the way I was going to do it. My relationship with Asher deserved more than that. My relationship with Eve deserved the world. It was the best thing that had ever happened to me, and I wasn’t going to risk fucking it up.
Last night, in bed, falling asleep with Eve in my arms, her touch all around me, her scent caught in my head, she’d lain her head over my heart and said something I knew I’d never forget.
“You can have a terrible life because of that woman, or a wonderful life in spite of her.”
For the first time in longer than I could remember, I wanted that wonderful life, and I wanted it with her. I was going to fucking try for once because I had something I couldn’t live without. Someone I needed, more than I needed air to breathe.
I touched down in Denver in the early evening. The mountain air was crisp as hell, and I was glad I’d worn layers. I jumped in a cab outside the airport and headed over to Asher’s university.
There was a game tonight. I got there just as the second interval was beginning and watched him play. He was as good as ever, and a twinge of jealousy hit me as I watched him work side by side with his new teammates. I couldn’t help but think there was something missing, but maybe it was just wishful thinking. Having Asher at HHU would be a dream come true, but it looked like my hopes that he’d decide to return were far-fetched.
He seemed angry tonight. I wondered why, exactly. I’d soon find out. I waited for him after the game, sitting on the stairs outside the rink. Once the crowd had filed out, it took a while for the players to emerge.
A low whistle hit my ear from the direction of the locker room, and an unfamiliar voice called. “It’s Anderson, isn’t it?”
I turned to see who was there. I made out a group of players, before a dark shape crashed into me and a fist met my jaw. Pain lanced through my tongue; I bit it hard.
“What the fuck?” I started and pushed myself up as strong hands grabbed me.
“That’s my line.” Asher’s furious face filled my vision, and then his fist met my face again, swiftly followed by his knee to my side.
I fell to the cold, damp steps.
A couple of Asher’s teammates were watching in shock. One stepped forward and grabbed Asher’s arm when he went for me again.
“Dude, what’s going on?”
Ash furiously pulled away from him and kicked me again. I fell to my back, my ribs screaming.
“Stop!” His teammates sounded worried.
“No – I won’t stop until this fucker bleeds,” Asher growled and looked over his shoulder at his concerned friends. “You guys go. I need a minute alone with Anderson here.”
With one or two murmured protests, the guys moved off.
“Get up,” Asher demanded.
I took my time doing that. My side ached, and my jaw was throbbing. A couple of teeth felt loose, but that was nothing new. It still happened in hockey, despite a mouthguard.
“How did you know?” I asked.
Asher’s hands were clenched into fists, his knuckles torn. He glared at me as though he might actually like to rip my head clean off. “Marcus called this morning. He figured I already knew, since you two are public and all.”
He wrenched me by the collar and punched me once, and then again.
“You – I trusted you with her.” He hit me again, and blood sprayed across his face.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
