“Jason. He could be our only bridge to the other Arianna we didn’t know.”
My fingers shake at the thought. Jason is also Cloud003. He befriended me, fucked me, and was there for me in the most convenient times.
He was also there right before Arianna killed herself.
It can’t be a coincidence, right?
At night, I go back to Alex’s house for a visit.
Asher didn’t like the idea that I’d be talking to Jason, and he’s been grumpy during the entire ride.
I like watching him be pissy about this; it’s better than seeing him broken from the inside out like this morning. Finding out all that about Arianna must’ve crushed him.
If roles were switched and Reina did that to me, it would’ve destroyed me, too.
Asher is too proud and stubborn to accept comfort. After the morning confrontation, we went to college, and I’m glad for that. I wouldn’t have the slightest clue how to deal with him in that state. All I want to do is hug him, and I know he wouldn’t accept it.
Not only is he proud and stubborn, he’s also sealing himself off from me.
Still, I want to feel close to him in some way, and I’m ready to take the risk of striking up that conversation.
We cut the distance toward Alex’s house in Asher’s Mustang. It’s quiet and nearly asphyxiating in here.
For a second, I watch the dominance he exudes as he grips the wheel with easy control—like he does with my body.
I briefly close my eyes in remembrance. My ass and pussy are still sore from the powerful way he thrust inside me. He claimed me. There’s no way around it, and now, I’ll always want more.
Before that, there’s something more potent hanging between us that I should try to clear up.
Chasing the remnants of arousal away, I face him, playing with the strap of my bag. “Why did you quit football?”
Asher throws me a brief glance before he focuses back on the road. Since he’s been in a pissy mood, I expect him not to answer, but then he says, “It didn’t interest me in the long run.”
“And law does?”
“Yes, international, not domestic. There’s something liberating about moving freely between borders.”
Interesting. I thought he chose law to spite his father in some way, but it seems his and Alex’s visions are entirely different—even if they have a few things in common.
“Then why did you come back?” I lower my head.
“I told you, it’s for you.” He shakes his head. “I could’ve studied here, but I left because of you then I returned for the same reason. I hated you so much, you consumed me.”
His quiet confessions are like fire arrows shooting at my chest, burning me alive.
Hated.
He didn’t say he hates me; he worded it in the past tense.
Besides, he said I consumed him, maybe as hard as he consumed me. Maybe his hate has transformed into something else now, or is that too much to ask for?
It’s funny how I’ve become careful with how much I can hope for. Now, I’m always scared that if I get too ahead of myself, everything will crumble all around me.
Instead of confronting him about what he said, I choose to keep the hope and ask, “How was your life there? In England, I mean.”
“Just a life.”
“Can you elaborate?”