Page 62 of From Asher, With Love

My cheeks are flaming, and the obvious silenceon the other end becomes loud. “Mr. Temper? Are you still there? I’m so sorry.”

“I’ll email over those listings now, Ms. Keeler,” he clips. “Let me know when you find one that interests you. Have a great day.”

My mouth falls open again when Cyrus abruptly ends our call.

I stand frozen in my shop until the heat leaves my face and chest. I want to be angry with my best friend for embarrassing me, but she may have done me a favor. There’s no way I can work with Cyrus now. Not when I’ll be wondering if he’s thinking about me with Asher.

Despite my desire to hopefully never see Cyrus Temper again to save us both the embarrassment, I hope Julianna is right. I hope this means Asher does care for me in ways that mean more than just sleeping with him, because if not, I’m not sure my heart will survive getting burned again.

This time, mine will be going up in flames.

NINETEEN

ASHER

February 11, 2015

I’m waiting for Charleigh in front of the school. There are a few cars already parked in the lot, but it’s still too early for most of my classmates to be here.

Charleigh messaged me to meet her out front earlier than usual, telling me it was important. Of course, I didn’t hesitate.

I haven’t seen her or spoken to her since last night in the street, when my mom spent her night out drinking at the dive bar down from our trailer park. Luckily, she made it home safely, but she fell asleep with a cigarette in her mouth and a beer bottle dangling from her poorly manicured fingers. I woke up this morning to clean up her trash before heading out for school.

Nerves swirl inside me. I can’t wait to see Charleigh. She is the one constant in my life, reminding me there is more out there than stale cigarettes and empty beer bottles.

When her car pulls into her usual spot, I immediately cross the lot and sit in the passenger seat. Her long hair shields her face from me. My eyes move down, taking in the box of paperhearts sitting in her lap, along with an envelope sitting on top, the familiar blue NYU letters stamped in the corner.

“Oh, shit, you finally got it.” My mouth quickly pulls into a grin. “Congratulations. I knew you’d get in, Little Flower. I fucking knew it.” I can’t contain my excitement. I’m fucking bursting at the seams.

I reach forward and wrap both my hands around her head, turning her to face me. I plant a giant kiss on her pink lips and pull her back. There are tears in her eyes, but they aren’t ones of joy and celebration. They’re tears of fear and sadness. All the happiness I felt at seeing her acceptance letter is sucked out of me and the car. The air turns cold, and a deep dread fills my gut.

“Wait…” I pull my eyebrows together. “You didn’t get in?”

She sniffs and shakes her head. “No, I did. My mother handed me the letter this morning.” Her eyebrows dip, and her bottom lip trembles. She won’t look at me.

“Then, what is it?” I ask, uncertainty still lingering. Does she not want us to go together anymore? Terrible thoughts begin to edge into my mind. I run my hand down her cheek, trying to console her and beg her to tell me. “What’s wrong?”

Charleigh sniffs and her chin quivers. Tears spill down her cheeks. “My dad found it.”

“What, the letter?”

She answers with a shake of her head and places her hand over the box of my paper hearts. Then it hits me.

I reach out and place my hand over hers. One of Charleigh’s tears drops onto the back of my hand. She looks up at me, her eyes transforming into two glass orbs, tears lining her black lashes.

“I need you to take it.” Her voice wavers.

I know Charleigh is protective of the messages I’ve written for her, but I can’t understand why it’s made her this upset. She looks broken, as if a piece of herself has been fractured.

Her father must have done more than find the box.

“Charleigh.” I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Are you sure you want me to take them?”

“Yes.” Her words are more forceful this time, her hand stiffening beneath mine. “I can’t leave them there. He’d found the box when I went back to my room last night. He was waiting for me and threw all the hearts all over the floor. He was angry, Asher. He’s angry that I’m still with you, in love with you.” She inhales a shaky breath, sliding her hand across the top of the box. “He…”

“He, what?” I adjust myself in my seat, leaning closer to her. I wish we weren’t sitting in her car right now. I wish I were closer to her.

“He—” She breathes in, tipping her head back against the headrest. Her long, brown waves press against the fabric behind her as she rolls her head to the side. There’s a battle being waged inside her heart. “He told me he won’t pay for me to go to NYU anymore unless I break up with you.”

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