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“No, seriously. What’s up? You look down.”
I took a deep breath. “Just thinking of my brother,” I admitted at last. “I miss him.”
Asher was silent for a second, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Asher could never make me feel uncomfortable or uneasy; it just wasn’t in his nature. He was as bright as sunlight, despite the cliche of such a statement. Even in my darkest of times, I knew that he would be around to brighten it.
God, I was such a cheese ball.
Seriously, that stuff was hallmark card worthy.
“What is he like?” Asher asked, and I appreciated the fact that he didn’t use the past-tense “was”.
I smiled as I thought of sweet Nik. “Smarter than me, for sure. He always saw the world as a thousand shades of gray, instead of black and white. I always joked with him that he was the better half of me.” I didn’t bother to add that, half the time, the joke went over his head and he would take my statement literally. “He loves his music,” I continued. “All kinds. You will always find him sitting somewhere with these big, red headphones covering his ears.”
My smile grew the more I pictured it - the more I pictured him. I couldn’t even express how much I had missed him. Talking to Asher helped relieve the ache his absence had left in my heart.
“Your brother sounds like a good kid,” Asher said, squeezing my hand. I smiled up at him.
“The best.”
It was then that I realized how close we had gotten. Asher was significantly taller than me, not a hard feat considering my petite frame, and all he had to do was lean down a few inches and his lips would be touching my skin.
I didn’t know why that thought both terrified and excited me. Half of me wanted him to kiss me, while the other half warned me that I was treading in too deep water. One wrong move, and I would be pulled under. I would drown.
Why did that suddenly sound so appealing?
Before I could properly analyze my strange, conflicting thoughts, Ronan had turned on his heel and was stomping back towards us. His face was red with fury.
“What’s your problem?” I asked, stunned by his sudden change in behavior.
“My problem,” Ronan hissed, “is the little bastard threatening to neuter me!” He pointed an accusatory finger at Tommy who was in conversation with Fallon. Fallon’s face was set into a scowl, but I couldn’t tell if that was his normal resting bitch face or an expression Tommy had brought out of him.
“That kid is halfway in love with you already,” Asher admitted, and I snorted.
“If anything, I should be the one in love with him.” At the boys’ incredulous expressions, I lowered my voice to a whisper. “He saved my life. His mom had turned into a Rager, and he killed her to stop her from attacking me.”
The boys seemed stunned at this proclamation. Asher blinked furiously.
“He killed...his mom?” He seemed to have trouble wrapping his head around the concept. I squeezed our still conjoined hands.
“To save me. A stranger in need of help.” I glanced back at Tommy - his reddish hair wildly disheveled and a long scar distorting his chubby cheeks in a jagged, raised line. I hadn’t noticed the scar being that prominent last night, but I knew it wouldn’t go away with time. He now had a physical scar to accompany the mental one. “I’m just waiting for him to break down. He hasn’t had a chance yet.”
And that break down would happen. Of that, I was certain. Tommy wasn’t impassive, and he wasn’t made of steel. What he had done was emotionally damaging; it was a wonder he could even talk or walk at all.
So no, I wasn’t going to complain about his treatment of the guys. If insulting them helped ease the guilt and pain he felt over losing his mother, then I would support him until we could find a more healthy way for him to cope.
“Well damn,” Ronan said. “I guess I can’t hate the little shit anymore.”
“Speaking of little shits,” I broached tentatively. “What’s going on with Ryder?”
The boy in question had a continually dazed look to him, as if he was seeing something that wasn’t there. He had insisted on carrying Mof’s cage; I had caught him, time to time, absently mumbling to the cat. Had he lost his mind? Or had something happened during the fight?
In response to my question, Ronan shrugged, though I thought I saw a flicker of unease cross his features. It was there and gone before I could question it.
“He probably just needs to get laid,” he answered at last.
That was more than likely true. From what I gathered, Ryder was most popular with the ladies. Being as handsome as he was, as well as the lead singer for a band, meant that he had no problem getting and keeping any woman he desired.
“What about one of you guys?” I asked, before I could think it through clearly. “Could he do the dirty with one of you?”
