Undeniably Asher (The Colloway Brothers Book 2)(50)

“Tell me about these,” I say softly. “They’re very sexy.” I think back to just an hour ago when I was tracing each pattern with my tongue and impossibly, I feel myself getting wet again.

He brushes aside a stray hair that’s fallen in my eyes, tucking it behind my ear. The move is soft and seductive. Loving. He treats me like blown glass one minute and a raunchy sex toy the next. I love it.

“The first one means family. The next two stand for older brother, one each for Gray and Luke, and the last stands for younger brother, Conn.”

I laugh. “Oh, I bet Connelly loved it when you got that.”

“Pitched a hissy fit like a little bitch.”

That makes me laugh harder. “I love that you have a great relationship with your family, Asher. It’s very…endearing. And refreshing.”

“I’m lucky, I guess. We have our issues, like any other family, but…yeah. I have a great family. The best parents and brothers a guy could ask for.” He pauses. “I’m sorry you didn’t have that, Alyse.”

I’m sure Asher knows the basics, but I wonder how much he actually knows. His family was idyllic. Mine was…dysfunctional to the nth degree. Our voices soften. It feels like story time has given way to confession. And confession is something I am not good at. It takes me a minute to answer. “Me too.”

“Do you miss your dad?”

Do I?

“He had a sickness, you know, a disease, but he tried his best when he wasn’t sucked into his gambling so deep. When he managed to stay away, he was actually a good dad.” I thought maybe he had finally beaten it, until a few months before Livia disappeared, when he seemed to fall back into it. He was at his worst then.

“When Livia was gone for those few years, he was honestly the best he’d ever been and then he got cancer. I wish she could have seen him then. Until he became so sick and weak, those were probably some of the best times I remember with him. But at the same time it made me angry, because I had a glimpse of what it could have been like if he wasn’t an addict.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” His soft lips touch my temple. “Have you told her that?”

“No. Livia has her own jaded views of our father. I mean, I can see where she’s coming from to some degree. He was imperfect. We all are. But I think it’s interesting how two people can grow up in the same house and view their parents in such a different light. He hated the way he was. He just…couldn’t help it. I think Livia saw it as a weakness, but I viewed it more as a sickness. One he just couldn’t find the cure for.”

“I think I know what you mean. I feel that way about Luke. The way he talks, you would think we had different fathers. My parents weren’t perfect, but they were pretty damn close, and I never understood how Luke could feel that way about our dad.” He pauses briefly. “You seem to have a pretty good relationship with your sister.”

I’m not really sure how to answer that. I want to have a good relationship with her. Another thing I can’t let go. I hate that about myself. The inability to forgive and forget. “I—It’s complicated.”

“Most relationships are. How did you get this?” he asks, tracing the scar just below my sternum.

“What is this? Twenty questions?”

Laughing, he pulls me tight. “I have hundreds of questions, Alyse. Thousands. I told you I want to know everything about you. Every scar, every wound, every hurt. I’m going to heal each and every one of them.”

I smile. “Wow. Theatre and medicinal prowess? Who knew you were so talented?”

“Oh, baby. You have no idea the things I’m capable of.” His fingers tickle my sides and I giggle. “Now, the scar.”

I sigh. I hate talking about that day. I hate thinking about that day. I hate remembering that day even happened. But I figure since Livia was dating Gray at the time, he probably already knows I was in an accident, so I can at least talk about that without revealing the whole sordid story.

“I was in a car accident my senior year. They had to remove my spleen.”

“Yes, I remember. I tried to come see you and your father wouldn’t let me up. Then I had to get back to school so I couldn’t come back.”

“Really?” I ask, surprised. “I never knew that.”

“Yes, really. I would have at least thought he’d tell you.”

“He didn’t,” I mumble. He was probably too distraught that he had to sit in a hospital chair versus a poker one.

“You were in the hospital for a few days right?”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t the driver die in that accident?” he asks quietly.