Page 19 of From Asher, With Love

My question softens her anger. She turns her head, still refusing to lower her hand. The wind blows her hair across her face—a strand getting caught in the corner of her mouth. I itch to reach out and push it back.

“I’m happy,” she tells me. “It was always my dream to live here. It was yours once, too, you know. But I guess we both made it. Just not in the way we envisioned.”

A pit forms in the center of my chest. I don’t like how Charleigh’s comments keep finding their way into some deep, hidden part of myself I buried long ago. It’s effortless to her. It’s effortless for her to tear me apart.

“I’m not the same person I was back then.”

“No, you definitely aren’t. I’m learning that.” She swallows, her eyes flicking back to the building behind us before her gaze swings back to mine. “But neither am I, so…”

The pit in my stomach transforms into a feeling I’m unfamiliar with. I want to change the subject. “Are you sure Cyrus is the right person to help you?”

Her shoulder falls as a cab pulls up alongside us both. She lowers her arm and opens the door, clearly exhausted by our conversation. “What do you care, Asher? You clearly don’t want to help me, and my business needs this, so I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure I get where I need to go—with or without your help.” She glances up at the building again, all the way to the top, where Cyrus’s office is. “If Cyrus is that person, so be it.”

“Cyrus is a shark in this real estate game. Are you sure you want to risk swimming in those waters?”

Business. It’s easier to talk to Charleigh when it’s about business.

“He’s my only shot…” Her sentence trails off. She shrugs her shoulders and moves to sit in the cab. “What choice do I have?”

I step forward, catching the door before she slams it shut. My fingers grip the top. She sits inside; her chin tipped up as she looks at me.

“Don’t hire him. Let me help you find a place.” The offer leaves my mouth before I’ve even comprehended what I’m saying. Call it desperation. Call it ego. Either way, I know money isn’t the only force pulling me to Charleigh. There’s something more. Something I can’t, won’t, acknowledge just yet.

“What?” she asks. “That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“Come on,” I tell her. At first, I’m not entirely sure why I’m offering to work with her. I’ve been trying to stay away from Charleigh, but then Allen Simon quickly comes to mind. Thepotential of Allen falling through leaves me desperate. I can’t lose the chance to work with Charleigh, either. “I can find you a better place than that asshole upstairs.”

“Asshole?” She laughs. “He didn’t seem so bad to me.”

“Yeah… But that’s what you thought about me when we first met.”

My comment clearly hits at another place deep inside her. Her mouth twitches, and her smile fades, the memory of me swiftly breaking her heart clear as fucking day. Silence swells between us before she asks, “Why would you want to help me?”

I avoid her stare, looking out at the traffic-riddled street before looking at her again. “Because I can’t lose to someone like Cyrus.”

“Wrong answer.” My hand falls from the door as Charleigh pulls it toward her, closing it. “That was a test question, and you failed.”

“You’re joking?”

“Nope.” Once she closes the door, she rolls down the window and dips her head, looking up at me through the opening. “See? You aren’t the same Asher I used to know.”

When the cab pulls away, I can’t figure out what bothers me more: losing Charleigh to Cyrus, or Charleigh’s constant jabs about what a horrible person I’ve become.

Deep down, I know Charleigh’s feelings toward me have merit.

Ihavebecome an asshole.

SIX

CHARLEIGH

September 24, 2014

The lined paper crinkles under my fingers as I clutch onto it for dear life.

I’m staring out at my twenty other classmates but can only concentrate on one pair of golden-brown eyes staring back at me. My cheeks redden, and heat spreads across my body. Suddenly, I’m aware of everything. The way my jeans sit on my hips. The way my hair is curled. The way my jacket hangs loose over my shoulder.

I nervously run my fingers through my hair and lick my lips.

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