Page 65 of Addiction

Deep down, I believe Wade is that person.

I want him to look into my eyes and see all the secrets I'm too scared to voice because all I know is that he calms the storm inside of me.

“Unless you do remember but you’re just telling yourself you don’t.”

“Why do you think I’d be doing that?”

“Because of fear.”

“What makes you think I am afraid?”

“Everyone is afraid of something, Asher. Whether it be too hard to believe, voice or accept. Fear is in everyone.”

“So, you do think I am afraid.”

“I don’t think, I know. You’re hiding something from everyone, but more importantly yourself.” He holds my gaze and it’s like he can see right through me, like no matter how hard I try there’s no escaping him.

“And if I were hiding”—I swallow hard—“what would your advice be?”

“I would tell you that troubled secrets do nothing but damage you more. They won’t thank you in the long run for keeping quiet.”

His words hit me like a freight train and tears sting the backs of my eyes. How has it come to this? All these years I’ve been running, hiding from who I am, and it’s all beginning to unfold right in front of me faster than I can control. “What if I am too scared to voice it?” I whisper. “Too scared to admit it?”

“It’s better to make it real than deny yourself of everything you could have. It’s better to make it real than constantly live a lie.”

My blood runs cold, causing me to leave the couch and step away to gain distance. I’ve let my guard down. How fucking stupid have I been?

But instead of denying it, the four words that leave my mouth surprise me. “You know don’t you?”

He studies me for a second before sitting forward. “I believe I know something. But all you need to know is if, and when, you are ready to talk, I’m here.”

My chest is tight, my mind nothing but turmoil, and my heart is racing so fast I can’t keep up with it. How can he just sit there and not seem affected by this? How can he be so calm over his sexuality when here I am wanting to claw it out of my body?

“You make it look so easy.”

“It’s not about being easy, Asher. It’s about acceptance.” He stands and steps toward me. “It’s about being comfortable with yourself before anything else.” He places his hand on my chest, over my heart and murmurs. “It’s about what you feel in here.”

The hairs on the back of my neck rise and heat floods my groin. A feeling simmering in my core roars to life faster than I can control. One touch of this man turns my body into flames.

When he moves closer, I fail to stop him. I fail to do anything other than drink him in—something I’ve done in secret for so long, watching him in the distance.

The way his smile brings me peace; the way his eyes captivate me like no one’s before; the way his whole being has the ability to make my shitty days fade into the background… Everything about this man is perfection.

We’re close—dangerously close—and I’d love nothing more than to escape my anguish by losing myself in him. I’m rendered still, my heart in my throat, my dick hard, as this beautiful beast of a man peruses my face. I shouldn’t be here. I can’t be like this. We shouldn’t be like this, but when his eyes fall to my mouth, and the pad of his thumb brushes over my lips I can’t contain myself any longer.

Just a taste.

Just. A. Taste.

Everything burns through me like never before and a need so great grips hold of my core, pulling me closer and closer. I want his lips on me. I want to know how he tastes. I want to feel his body with my own hands and explore what I imagine in my dreams. And what scares me more than anything is I see the reflection of my feelings in the intensity of his eyes: torn with grief and darkened with lust.

I see it.

“Asher…”

“Don’t let me die. Don’t let me die. Please, Asher. Don’t let me die.”

I pull back abruptly, confused as to what is happening. My heart is pounding so hard as sweat covers the nape of my neck.