Asa

Icrack open Rose’s bedroom door and peek inside. Rose lies sprawled under her yellow and white bedcover, her leg and arm flung to one side, her red curls spread like fire across her pillow. A soft snore echoes in the room, and I smile in spite of the weight pressing down on my chest.

It’s become a habit of mine, looking in on her about an hour or so after her bedtime. Hell, I think I’ve gotten better. Right after Mona died, I’d slip in here and sit beside Rose’s bed for hours, making sure she still breathed. Yeah, I might’ve stuck a finger under her nose a time or two. Losing my sister did a number on my head. One I’m not over, if I’m honest with myself. I fear there will always be a hole in my heart for her. But having her daughter here helps. At first, being Rose’s guardian might’ve scared the shit out of me. Still, there’s a measure of peace, knowing I’m caring for and raising the person Mona loved most in this world. Even if gray hairs are imminent.

I gently close the door and head down the hall toward the stairs. My smile fades as I descend the steps and walk into the living room. Sighing, I sink onto the couch, and the weight that’s been with me since this morning resettles on my shoulders.

I hurt India.

I fucking hurt India.

By trying to keep the peace, to protect Jessie and her, I brought pain right to her door. I did that shit. It’s all on me. Closing my eyes, I fall against the back of the couch, rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes.

Somehow I had to make this right—

A knock on the front door snatches me from my dark spiral of thoughts. Shoving to my feet, I walk toward the door, frowning. I’d told Jessie I wasn’t up for company tonight. Far as I knew, he intended on spending another evening with Tracy. And Mom had a rousing night of bid whist planned with Aunt Billie and several of their friends. Unless something came up at the garage and it’s Jake…

There’s only one way to find out.

I twist the lock and, grasping the knob, pull the door open.

And stare.

“Asa,” India quietly says. “I’m sorry for showing up without calling ahead. Is it okay to drop by?”

I understand what she’s asking. Is the coast clear? Is Jessie here?

“Yeah.” I step back, jerking my chin. “Come in.”

How I managed to get those words past my constricted throat is a minor miracle. Shock has a vise grip on my throat, and I briefly close my eyes, inhaling her fresh, seductive scent as she passes by me. I lock down the groan that scrambles up my chest as my body switches online, requiring only her presence to power on like a switch. Fisting one hand at my side, I close and lock the door with the other.

India turns, glances towards the staircase.

“Rose?”

“Asleep. Come into the living room.” I walk past her, careful not to intrude on her personal space, even though she showed up here at ten o’clock. “Once she’s knocked out, it would take a natural disaster to wake her, but I don’t want to try it.”

I don’t look over my shoulder, but it’s not necessary. I can feel her.

“Make me understand.”

Now I look at her. I need to. Turning around, I study her, take in what had escaped me when she first walked through my door. The shadows in her brown eyes, the tipped down corners of her bare, lush mouth, the stiff gait that replaced her usually fluid, graceful stride.

“What’s wrong?” I demand, tamping down the instinctive, roaring need to go to her and pull her close. “What’s happened?”

She shakes her head, holding up a hand even though he didn’t move toward her. At least he didn’t think he did.

“Nothing. Everything.” She huffed out a soft, dry laugh. “I’ve spent all day trying to forget what you said today. Trying to forget… you.” She shrugs and looses another of those bone-dry, humorless chuckles. “But I can’t. I can’t get you out of my head. You’d think after two damn years, I’d realize what a pointless endeavor that it is, but I guess hope springs eternal, right?”

You’d think after two damn years, I’d realize what a pointless endeavor that it is…

“Two years,” I rasp. “You’ve thought about me for two years?”

Her lashes lower, and she bites her lower lip. My heartbeat is a cannon in my ears because it doesn’t seem as if she’s going to give me the answer I need more than my next breath.

I’m ready to drop to my knees and beg for that answer when she murmurs, “Yes.”

“Why did you run?” I demand.


Tags: Naima Simone Romance