Page 597 of One More Kiss

Asher is quiet. He’s just staring at me. But his face isn’t showing revulsion or disgust. His eyes are soft, compassionate, empathetic. He gets it.

He inhales as his fingers tighten around mine. “I’m not dropping you, Kristee. I’m going to hold on tight. I’m sorry that you endured all of that. I am. So sorry. But I understand… my parents are around, but they don’t get me. They don’t understand why I can’t be fixed. My grandparents always tried to make sure I knew that I was loved, and they accepted me. Or accepted me as much as they could. Even they don’t really understand. But they at least try.

“They’ve tried to get through to my parents. But to no avail. My parents had one kid, and the fact that I’m that kid, and I’m not the perfect kid they wanted kills them. Perfection is expected from them. And… to them… I’m broken. Even though there are people in my life who try to advocate for me. The fact that the two people who should, but won’t, eats at me. They’re my parents, and they’re disgusted, and ashamed, that I’m their son.

“Kristee, you may not have had anyone in your corner up to this point, but you do now. I’m here and I’m not leaving.”

I’m so choked up. My throat is so tight even though tears are freely running down my face.

Swiping at them with the back of my free hand, I sniffle. Asher says, “Don’t cry. There’s no need to cry, Kristee. So… I have the night. You gave me tonight. Where are we going?”

Suddenly the only thing I want to do is be close to him. I don’t care where we go, or what we do, I just want to spend my time with Asher.

Smiling through my tears, I sniffle again. “I don’t care. As long as I’m with you, we can do anything.”

His eyes crinkle as he smiles. Lifting our joined hands to his lips, he kisses the back of my hand. “Well, how about dinner to start?”

Glancing down at myself, I take in my soaked clothes, laughing at the image of us bursting into a restaurant like this. “I’m soaked. So are you. Nowhere is going to let us in like this, Asher.”

My stomach growls just then, causing my cheeks to flush with embarrassment. He nods. “You’re hungry. I know just the place.” Winking, he holds up the duffel bag that’s been in his lap. “And I have dry shirts.”

Asher

Dinner was delicious. As promised, I knew just the place to go where our appearance wouldn’t matter. Though it shouldn’t since it was owned by my family. We went in through the front but sat at one of the tables in the very back near the kitchen and enjoyed our delicious meal. Red bean hummus with fried rice cakes for dipping, crustless crab pie, green tomato pie topped with basil pesto, crawfish etouffee stuffed beignets, and icebox lemon pie for dessert.

Kristee told me to choose what I thought she’d like; so I ordered the dishes the place was famous for. I chose right since we devoured the food and practically cleaned the plates while we sipped on lemon water.

We talked as we ate and learned more about each other. I told her about growing up “broken” in an influential family and she filled me in on her traumatic, and lonely, childhood. We grew up in different settings, but both experienced the same thing. The only difference was she experienced it from strangers, while it came from my parents for me.

After dinner, she said she wanted to walk off some of the food. So, we strolled around Downtown after the rain, watching the people on the pedal bike bars and the restaurant and nightclub lines while the music and entertainment from inside spilled onto the sidewalk.

We passed several hotels and joined the various people on the streets and sidewalks doing the same thing as us. We strolled Downtown with her hand in mine. People smiled at us and called out greetings. Kristee turned to me after one couple told us to “enjoy our night” with a look of complete bewilderment on her face. “I don’t understand. People are talking to me. No one ever even notices me, Asher.”

Looking down at her, I take her in. Her hair has dried from the earlier rain into tight curls that frame her face and drape down her back. It’s slightly frizzy, but it in no way detracts from her beauty. Her face is classically beautiful with smooth skin, high cheekbones, and a heart shape. Her eyes are wide and outlined with thick dark lashes. Her nose is perfectly centered in her face and the end turns up ever so slightly. Her lips are full and pert.

Stopping our trek, I release her hand, cupping her face. “Kristee, I don’t know how anyone could overlook you. You’re stunning. I can’t look away.”

I mean it. I can’t stop looking at her.

Not only is she beautiful, but she’s engaging. I love talking to her. I love the way her nose crinkles when she’s surprised. I love the way her eyes brighten when she looks at me. I love the little dimple at the corner of her mouth when she smiles.

Her voice is thick as she says, “Oh, Asher. You’re so… I––I’m overwhelmed in the best possible way. You’ve made this the best night of my entire life. And we’ve only spent a few hours together. With you, I don’t feel invisible. I don’t feel like I’m a waste of air. Here with you, I feel… alive.”

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