I need my whole heart back, because I’m finally ready to hand it over in the palm of my hand and let somebody else carry it.
On the exact day I thought my life ended eight years ago, I realize that it’s only just begun, but I need to put my past where it belongs, once and for all.
Firmly, permanently in the rearview mirror.
Unfortunately, the only way to do that is to confront it head-on.
Chapter 35
Asher
“I don’t like that asshole,” Luke grumbles, taking a long pull from his Heineken, glaring daggers across the dim room.
“Who?” I ask, trying to follow his line of sight.
“That photographer.” He points with the mouth of his green bottle to Cooper Jensen, who is done taking pictures for the evening but has hung around to chat with Addy. They have their heads close, laughing. Addy has her hand on his forearm in a flirty gesture.
I saw him talking for quite a while with Alyse earlier and I had to hold myself back from wiping the floor with his face when he hugged her. But as I try my best to exorcise the illogical jealousy that clouds my judgment, I have to say I think Mr. Jensen seems to be far more interested in Addy than Alyse.
And that’s good for his longevity, at least as far as I’m concerned. Now from Luke’s perspective, it may still be very much in danger. Between the two of us I think Cooper Jensen should be far more worried about my older brother.
“You like her,” I state matter-of-factly, thinking back to last Friday night when Luke acted like a hungry lion protecting his kill. I thought he and camera boy were gonna throw down about who kept Addy in their arms.
“Didn’t say that.”
I smile, knowing he’s full of shit. I’m the motherfucking king of jealousy and I clearly see shades of green swirling wildly around Luke’s aura, threatening to crowd out every scrap of common sense. “Then why do you care if she’s talking to pretty boy?”
“Didn’t say I did. Just don’t like him.” Luke turns to me. “He was hitting on your girl earlier.”
“They’re just friends,” I retort. At least I hope that’s all it is. Since last weekend, I may have figured out the unknown number calling Alyse all day Sunday belonged to Cooper Jensen. I may have possibly memorized the number and called it when Alyse was out of town on Tuesday. And he may have told me he was calling about the photography contract when he answered the phone.
Maybe.
Yep…motherfucking king.
As I take a swallow of my own drink, I watch Alyse chatting and laughing with my mother and my aunt across the room. I can easily picture her as a permanent part of our family and not just as Gray’s sister-in-law. My mom has taken a very keen interest in Alyse, treating her as if she’s already one of the family. It seems they’ve bonded on some sort of female level that I’ll probably never understand.
This evening Alyse hasn’t seemed quite as withdrawn as she has for the last week, but my hold on her is tenuous at best. I need to up my game if I want to keep her. I’m working hard to break down her walls again. I think I’m making progress, but then there will be a setback, like Christmas evening, when I intruded on a clearly private and intense conversation between Alyse and my mother. I heard the end of it, when my mom was talking about forgiveness, but I never asked what she was referring to. I hoped Alyse would offer, but she didn’t and I tried not to let that hurt.
“You love her. Livia’s sister,” Luke says, nodding in the direction to which I’m intently focused.
I nod. “With every part of me.”
“Hold onto her then.”
“I’m trying,” I confess. “You should ask her to dance. You know, the one you can’t peel your eyes from,” I suggest as the DJ changes from some new pop song I’m not familiar with to a slow, romantic one that I am. Throwing back the rest of my whiskey, I leave my older brother before hearing his response, making a beeline for my lovely Alyse.
I’m tired of sharing her, even with my family. I want one last dance before I take her back to our hotel room and ravage her for the rest of the night. My dick has been twitching all damn evening watching her in that stunning, knee-length navy-blue dress she’s wearing. It looks strapless, except for the sheer halter that covers her delicate neckline. The strappy silver heels make her bare legs look like they go on for miles. I want to see her bending over the bed in nothing but those in about ten minutes.
“I’m going to steal my woman back now,” I say quietly to my family, holding Alyse’s eyes as I hold out my hand. In the background, Ed Sheeran croons lyrics about people falling in love in mysterious ways and loving until they’re seventy. I’ve decided seventy years isn’t long enough for me. If I had one wish, it would be for a dozen lifetimes with her.