Page 7 of Be Your Forever
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Dammit. I heave a frustrated sigh and get up from my chair so aggressively that it scrapes against the floor. The shrill cry pierces my eardrums, but I’m too annoyed to care.
I bypass the hallway mirror, knowing I’m sure to be a hot mess. Maybe that’ll scare away whoever’s on the other side. My lungs fill with air in an attempt to control my irritation before gripping the door handle. When I open it, however, I’m not expecting the person on the other side.
Asher Larson.
My brother's best friend, the bane of my teenage existence. Asher and Max have been attached at the hip for as long as I can remember. You’d think with Max being the oldest of the three of us, he wouldn’t want his little sister tagging along. It was quite the opposite as the three of us were always hanging out. Somewhere along the way, my crush began, and I’d find any reason to be close to Asher. His genuine kindness was what drew me in initially. But it’s the moments when we were alone that I cherish the most.
“Bear?”
My eyes snap to attention as I take in the man before me. My brother's best friend. A man I spent most of my adolescent years pining after. My crush on Asher was all-consuming. But when I finally gathered up the courage to act on my feelings,shehad to go ahead and ruin it. After that, I made it my mission to give him the cold shoulder. I was good at holding a grudge…up until the accident. Now? Well, it takes all my energy to get out of bed. Self-hatred spams my mind, leaving little to no room for anything other than self-pity.
Yeah, I’ve despised Asher for years, but I can still appreciate his beauty. I am a woman, after all, and he’s hot. Asher stands at about six-four with hair the color of sand. Gentle hues of gold and muted earth blend effortlessly together, falling like crested waves against his forehead. My fingers twitch to sink into the golden silk, to scratch my nails across the shortened sides. What some men would do for a mane like his. And his eyes? They’re a blue unlike anything I’ve ever seen, reminiscent of a hot spring, inviting and comforting. When his captivating irises collide with mine, a sweet serenity washes over me.
Today, he’s wearing a dark gray Henley with three-quarter sleeves and dark wash blue jeans with his favorite pair of Chucks. He’s wearingthe shit out of that shirt. It looks like his muscles are being suffocated, which makes sense. Being the top pitcher throughout high school will do that to you. Seriously, the man is built. It’s no wonder women threw themselves at him in high school. They still do. I’ve watched hundreds of women throw themselves at him, which only added fuel to my hatred. Some might have called it jealousy. But I knew better…at least I wanted to believe I did.
The sound of a throat clearing pulls me from my ogling.Shit.I shouldn’t be checking out Asher. Isn’t there, like, some rule against your brother’s best friend dating your little sister? And even if there aren’t, I’msupposedto detest the man. Even if my heart swells remembering how attentive he was with me at the hospital and the wedding. But then I think of the text from Max earlier, and any sort of affection I was feeling is gone, leaving shame masked as irritation in its place.
“Why are you here?” I bark at him, not bothering to play nice.
He’s here because he pities you. Look at him, a man like that wouldneverwant to be with you. He doesn’t actually care about you…no one does.
See? Anxious thoughts leave no room in my brain for any other feeling.
“Hi, bear.” Asher doesn’t even flinch at my abrasive tone. No. Instead, he offers me the most panty-dropping smile known to man. Not my panties, though,definitelynot mine. The thought of anyone seeing me in my underwear has my body breaking out into hives.
Asher’s smile is mesmerizing, displaying dimples I want to lick.Gah no, Bri. Stop that. He’s only here out of obligation andnotbecause he wants to be here. Also, he’s Max’s best friend, which means he, too, blames you for the accident. Get rid of him and go back to bed.
“What are you doing here?” I repeat, harsher than before. Everything about this situation is embarrassing. No one, especially Asher, should be seeing me like this. The sooner he leaves, the sooner I can crawl back into my self-loathing cave.
“I was in the neighborhood. I wanted to check in, see how you’re doing.” Asher shrugs nonchalantly.
He only feels sorry for you. He’s only here because your brother asked him to check on you. He’s going to report how sad you look to your brother.
I’m a puppet on a string that’s controlled by my internal villains, their cackles playing on an endless loop inside my mind.Now is not the time to have a breakdown, Bri.
“I’m not some sad, pathetic loser, you know!” I shout at him, my voice breaking at the wordssadandpathetic.
“I-I never said—”
“Don’t bother. I know why you’re here. Max sent you. I don’t need your pity, Asher. I’m fine.”
I’m fine…The biggest lie anyone can ever say.
“Max didn’t send me. I’m here because Ic—”
“Don’t lie to me, Asher. You don’t care about me, you never have.” I’m projecting…I know I am, but I can’t seem to stop the words from pouring out of me. It’s notAsherwho doesn’t care about me. It’sme. I don’t care about myself.
“You know that’s not true. I’ve always been there for you. You’re going through a lot right now. I can’t fully understand what you’re feeling, but I want to try. I want to be here for you, Bri, because I want to. Not because Max sent me here.”
I want to be here for you because I want to.The words poke small holes in my armor, and I want nothing more than to run and hide.
“Please just go, Asher.” I don’t even wait for his response before I close the door.
Wait, stay. I need you.I push that small voice aside and fall to the floor. Panic grips me by the throat, restricting my airflow. I’m gasping for air, desperate to fill my lungs, but black dots begin to dance across my vision. I’m seconds from passing out, so I lay on the floor. The cool texture is a welcome sensation. I hyperfocus on the feel of the laminate against my cheek as I focus on my breathing. By the time I’m back to normal, well, mynew normal, I’m tired.
Emotional exhaustion is a bitch. It’s the middle of the day, and I’m already making my way upstairs so I can sleep. The second I enter my bedroom, I crawl under the covers where no one can find me. Under these covers, I can hide from everything and anything that makes me feel like a failure. It’s under these covers that I’ll stay for the next fourteen hours. I fall asleep to the daydream from moments ago, and if I cuddle the blankets a little tighter, I don't notice.
