“Is that why you’ve refused to come home the last few years?” I try to keep the bitterness out of my tone, but I can tell by her exasperated groan on the other end of the line that I failed.
“Asher, is there a reason you called? You know I don’t like talking about this.”
I sigh. The fact that she continues to blatantly hide something from me pisses me off, but I decide to drop it, like usual.
“I kissed Summer again,” I admit, deciding to keep it PG.
“Oh, Ash,” she breathes out, the disappointment in her voice glaringly obvious. “You couldn’t find some nice girl your own age that isn’t attached to the university at all?”
“You are preaching to the choir,” I mutter.
“I just don’t want to see you get in trouble.”
“You’d have to actually see me for that to happen.” I’m met with silence and know I let my frustration with her past behavior and withmyself lash out. “Sorry, Juliet, that wasn’t cool. You’re just trying to be a good sister and help. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Apology accepted,” she responds quietly. “And you’re not entirely unjustified there.” It’s as close to an apology from her as I’ll get, so I’ll take it. “You know, above all else, I want you happy. And if that’s with someone who is a student… obviously, if you’re doing it respectfully, I would never judge you.”
The things I want to do to Summer are anything but respectful.
“Thanks, Juliet.”
“I’ll never judge you for your choices, Ash,” she continues. “But that doesn’t mean others won’t. You could lose your job. You could get blacklisted from other universities. I don’t know how Mom and Dad would react, or how some of your other friends may handle the news if it gets out. I just want you to think about everything and decide if she’s worth that kind of risk.”
“You’re right, there’s a lot to consider here, and none of it is anything I should take lightly,” I agree. “I don’t plan on letting anything else happen again… but if it does, I’ll make sure that I take all of those points into consideration.”
“God,” she laughs. “You know, you talk like a stuffy professor?”
“I am a stuffy professor,” I deadpan.
“Is this what I have to look forward to when I get older?”
“I’m sure being a mom has aged you quite a bit; you just haven’t noticed yet.” I grin. “In that picture you sent me of you and Terra at the park, I saw a gray hair.”
She gasps. “You did not!”
“Goodnight, Juliet,” I say in a singsong. “Kiss my niece goodnight for me.”
“Goodnight, Asher,” she responds. I hear her hesitate, and I wait patiently for her to say whatever else is on her mind. “Please don’t tell Elijah anything more about me. Or anyone else for that matter,” she says. “And if he asks about me again, tell him it’s none of his damn business.” Then she disconnects, and the call goes dead.
13
SUMMER
I let myself wanderinto the secondhand bookstore even though I know I won’t be purchasing anything. My studio apartment doesn’t have space for a bunch of books, and with my graduate program, I don’t actually have time to read for fun right now. But I love the smell of bookstores, and I like to keep a never-ending list of books I’d like to get around to reading one day.
I should be running errands. I am dangerously low on food in my apartment and had to eat stale toast for breakfast this morning. But I love this bookstore. There are books everywhere. The only two windows are at the front of the shop; the rest of the walls are covered in floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. The smell of leather, ink, and worn, yellowed paper greets me as I make my way through the shelves.
I love the stacks of extra books on the floor, and the tables piled high with the newest releases, but my absolute favorite part of the store? They have two black cats. The best reading buddies.
I find one near the romances up on a cat tree and scratch her behind the ears, knowing it’ll make Milo grumpy later, but unable to help myself. I give her one last pet before continuing on my mission around the store.
I trail my hand along the spines of books as I make my way to the classics section. I’m not really picky when it comes to my literature, but I am a sucker for the classics.
A beautiful copy ofThe Great Gatsbycatches my eye, and I can’t help but pick it up and flip through its pages. It’s bound in soft blue leather with gorgeous silver foil decorating the cover. It’s practically in pristine condition, and it physically hurts me to even consider setting it back on the shelf.
“I wouldn’t have pinned you as a Gatsby girl,” a deep voice says behind me, making me jump. I place a hand to my chest as I turn and see Asher grinning at me. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were so caught up.”
“I love this story,” I say defensively, clutching the novel to my chest.
