If Only Page 8
“I highly doubt it. I want you in my life. And, we’ve been friends for six years, Asa. That’s gotta count for something.”
“It does.” She coasted her hands over his chest. “Those years mean everything to me.”
Relieved, he relaxed against the counter before he took her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. For an instant, he thought he had pushed his luck with her when he had put it out there that he’d sell Jo’s house.
“Okay, love, you win this round. Stay, and we’ll somehow make this work.”
The rest of the evening, over dinner, they spent catching up on the events of the past few months. He laughed when she told him her crazy stories about Chance, her friend’s two-year-old son.
“He might be naughty, but I love him.”
“And you like spending time with the old folks, too, don’t you?”
Her eyes widened with surprise. Rhys shrugged. “Eve told me you volunteer at the senior center.”
Nodding, she took their plates to the sink and rinsed while he loaded the plates into the dishwasher. “Your sponsor relies on you to win,” she said. “I have people whose family can’t always be there for them. They count on me.”
She shrugged, but Rhys heard the sadness in her words. Did she refer to her relationship with her mother? Someday, when she was ready, he was sure she’d tell him more.
They worked as a team to clean the rest of their dinner mess, and he liked that, finding it easy to talk to and be around Asa. When she turned to hand him the last dish, a strand of her hair fell across her brow. Loving how her hair strayed close to the beauty of her eyes, he tenderly swept the strand aside.
“So back to your question from eons ago, you wanna know why I ride the KTM but don’t drive a car?”
Her smile was sad. Setting his hands over her waist, he gave them a squeeze, a nonverbal cue that yeah, of course, he wanted to know.
“Out on the track, it’s just me. If I make a mistake, it only hurts me, while on the road, it’s me and everyone else. And I don’t get behind the wheel because it’s my punishment for my father’s death and for blaming you. My father died because I showed my anger. We stopped being friends because I was pissed at you. My mother left for the same reason. I yelled at her, threw things at her. I couldn’t control my emotions. I was fed up with hiding them.”
“Ah, Asa.” He draped his arms over her shoulders. “It’s time to let go. And you can feel and show any emotion you want when you’re with me.”
Leaning forward, she rested her cheek on his chest. “If I do, you won’t be scared or leave, or stop loving me?”
His gut wrenched, the uncertainty in her tone reminding him of the lost girl she had once been when he had found her wandering in the hall their first day of high school.
“None of the above,” he said dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “I’ll stick by your side.” Beneath his arms, her shoulders relaxed. It felt great to be able to give her the reassurance she needed.
Through their years of friendship, he realized she was a lot like him. They smiled and joked even during times when they experienced hurt, resentment, jealousy, anger, and all the bad emotions that should be kept hidden.
However, beneath the surface, he and Asa felt deeply. Sometimes so deeply, the only way to express their emotions was through their actions. It hadn’t surprised him to discover she rode, too.
“So you forgive me?”
“Of course,” he said. “I love you.”
“And I accept your apology for the utterly rude comment,” she said as she yanked his face to hers for an open mouth kiss. “Because I love you too.”
“Wait . . . did I apologize or just spill my guts?”
“You spilled but I figured —”
“No assumptions or misunderstandings this time.” He scooped her into his arms and pulled her close. “I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted,” she said, her face softening.
Beautiful.
“Bedroom?”
“No, Asa, love. I want you in the heated workshop.”
“Oooh.”
He smiled into her hair.
“Will it always be like this?”
Laughing, he played along. “Like what?”
“Having hot sex in different and new places?”
“Always.”
“I’m gonna get used to this.”
Two months later …
Asa glanced at the time on her cell phone. He was late. It was the second weekend of competitions, and Rhys was in Arizona. If he mentioned the time difference, she might forgive him, but still, he hadn’t been late last weekend when he was in Anaheim.
Her phone buzzed. A text message? She looked at the screen, the message read: Miss you, can’t call today. Download 3 Doors Down, Here By Me. The words say it all. I love you.
Sticking her ear buds in, Asa downloaded the song and tapped play on her cell phone. The words say it all. And they did. God, straight from Rhys’s heart to hers. Turning her face to the pillow, she cried.
She missed him, loved him so much she hurt without him. Was she wrong to stay behind?
Willowbrook wasn’t the same. The Magic Pages Café didn’t hold its usual appeal, the books, coffee, and pastry dull in comparison to Rhys’s laughter, teasing, and stories during their daily phone calls. She kept her voice chipper for the folks at the senior center, but even she could hear the loneliness in her words. And Chance, with his naughty smiles and grubby fingers, couldn’t ease the ache in her chest.
She wanted Rhys with her. To have him next to her in bed, to have him press his mouth to her lips, and to hold her just because he loved her. The song replayed. She couldn’t get enough of the words. So like him to send her this.
He let her show her emotions, especially after a tough conversation she had with her mother before he’d left for San Diego. That day, she had cried and screamed her pain into the phone while Rhys listened and hadn’t judged.
At the end of her conversation with her mother, he had gathered her into his arms and told her he loved her. Recalling how tender his voice was, her tears continued to fall, and after taking a shaky breath, she texted him back: Thank you, and no need to apologize through a song, though I love, love, love the words. We have a lifetime to show each other how we feel.
She waited for him to text back. Nothing. The bed moved, and Asa glanced up. Rhys. He captured her mouth in his. Tugging the ear buds out, she held him by the neck, and yanked him to her. They kissed for what seemed like forever before she wrenched her mouth away and smacked him across the shoulder.
“You bastard. First, you scared the hell out of me when you were late. Then, you made me cry. And now, you got me hot for you.”
He laughed and kissed her again. Asa relaxed into the covers. When he settled himself between her thighs, she wrapped her legs around his waist.
“I thought you’d be flying home.”
“This is home.”
She shoved him aside and scrambled off of the bed. “Don’t tease me, Rhys Miles. Not about something as serious as you moving in with me.”
“Get back in bed.”
Tipping her chin at him would’ve been best in this situation, but Asa missed him too much to defy a simple demand she was actually very willing to do.
He stretched out on his side and patted the space next to him. When she took that exact spot, he moved until the front of his body was flushed against hers.
“My home is with you, Asa. We’re gonna live here in your house while Jo’s is torn down. Then we’ll build a bigger house and an even bigger track.”
“Really?”
“Yes. For you. I can’t stand to be apart from you, and I was selfish to ask you to leave your life here for me.”
Her heart swelled. “You’re not selfish. While we’ve been apart, I realized that to get what we both want and to make our love work, we need to meet in the middle.”
Picking up her phone, she showed him the screen. “See, I ordered ti
ckets to fly down to San Diego, and I bought a seat at all the competitions.” Leaning in, she kissed his nose. “You’re royally stuck with me.”
He laughed, and she shifted onto her back. Taking the hint, he positioned himself over her. Her body tingled in anticipation.
“Will you ride the track with me tomorrow?” she asked.
“Anything for you.”
“Anything?”
His eyes gleamed dangerously at her suggestive tone. “It’s been two months.”
“I wiped down your KTM.”
His breaths hitched while his pupils dilated as he balanced on his elbow to let her slide her body from beneath his. Once she was upright, she grabbed his hands, and tugged him forward, off of the bed.
Reaching up, she cradled his face in her palms and brought him down to her level.
“Let’s ride.”
With a growl, he kissed her as though they’d never been apart.
“If only to love you right, Asa girl.”
Yes, if only . . .
Author Bio
Ashlyn Mathews is normally fascinated with strong men and women who walk a fine line between good and evil, love and solitude, and who wield various and dangerous weapons in between the pages of her paranormal romances.
Her contemporary novellas, in the planned Willowbrook series, gives her a chance to walk on the lighter side though she still likes to make her contemporary romance characters work hard for their happily-ever-after.
She lives in the inspiring gloom of the Pacific Northwest with her husband, four young boys, and a Golden Retriever that likes to boss her around. She likes to hear from her readers. You can find her on Facebook, Twitter, or on her blog at www.ashlynmathews.com
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