Asher put firm pressure on my neck to direct my eyes back to him. “The partying, the drinking, that shit helping?” he asked softly.
I regarded him, blinking away my demons and letting the feeling of warmth spread through me at his gentle words, his soft voice.
“No,” I admitted. “But it helps delay it all. The feelings, the big sadness that I’m afraid I’ll get lost in. Makes me forget. Be someone else. Someone different. Someone better,” I told him truthfully.
There was a pause as Asher’s face turned blank. Then he sat up, resting on the wall and positioning me so I was straddling him.
“You need to listen to me now, flower,” he began seriously. “There’s no such thing as better. You are who you are. The fact you think that being someone else is better is not acceptable. I stand by what I said three years ago,” his eyes burned into mine, “I don’t know if there’s such a thing as perfect, but I’m looking at as close as I can get right here.” His hand squeezed my neck. “You aren’t perfect because you’re drop dead fuckin’ gorgeous, your tight little body makes my cock harden in my jeans every time I see it. Not because you’re kind, caring, soft when you need to be, but your claws come out when you decide to be a smart ass. Perfect isn’t superficial shit it’s who you are in here,” he tapped my chest lightly, “and here,” he brushed a hair off my head.
“I’m not,” I argued. “I’m not beautiful. I know that. We both know that.”
Asher’s entire body jerked. Flinched. His eyes turned dark. “You seriously think that?” he asked in a hard voice.
I glanced down. “I know it,” I replied in a small voice.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Wish more than anything else I had the gift to bring back the dead. First, I’d get your mom back, then I’d get your father. Kill that piece of shit all over again. I’d make it slow. Death is too easy of an escape for what he did to this beautiful soul,” he said fiercely, his voice almost shaking with fury.
His finger moved underneath my chin, gently moving my eyes to meet his.
“Listen to me, flower. You are the most beautiful, amazing woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Everything about you. Your hair that shines like the sun. The eyes that look like someone’s taken a piece of the ocean and put it in those beautiful things….” he paused, stroking my face. “Beauty is on the surface, flower. Temporary. Something that fades, withers. Being truly beautiful is when you’ve known suffering, fought demons at the depths of despair and managed to claw your way out. Managed to smile again. Managed to laugh, to live, to love. That’s eternal. That’s you.”
His certainty. His resolve, almost had me believing him. His words caused tears to trail down my cheeks. But a lifetime of my own certainty stopped me. I knew arguing was pointless, so I just leaned down and placed my mouth gently on his.
Gently was where I started, hungry and claiming was where he finished it.
“You still want to try and look for answers at the bottom of a bottle, I won’t approve, but I’ll be there. You’ll do it at the club,” he said firmly against my mouth.
I nodded more on instinct than anything else. I was questioning the answers that lay at the bottom of any of the bottles I’d emptied. I knew that nothing of value was there, and it wasn’t exactly a long-term plan.
“Can I ask you one question?” he murmured softly, searching my face.
I nodded.
“Do you want to be with me? Do you feel this, us, right down to your soul?” he asked in a raspy tone.
I swallowed. “That’s two questions,” I whispered, my heart beating one hundred miles a minute.
Asher gave me a look but didn’t say a thing. He seemed to realize my need for silence. So he let the quiet expand while I searched my head.
“Yes,” I said finally. I opened my mouth to say the reasons why it wasn’t that simple. How he’d realized that I wasn’t right for him. How I was a broken shell that wouldn’t fool him for long. His finger at my lips silenced me.
“It’s that simple, flower. You want this, you feel this. I want you. I’ve fuckin’ craved you for three years, babe. I’m holding on as tight as I can without bruising you, and I’m not letting go anytime soon,” he declared hoarsely. “That’s all there needs to be right now. You want me. I want you. The other shit doesn’t matter,” he said simply.
I wanted to believe that. With all of me, I did. I wanted to believe that fate had finished screwing with me, and somehow in the midst of all the turmoil in my life we could make it work. I knew doubt would creep in, later, in the future. But right now I did believe him, did feel the warmth settle in at his promise.
“Okay,” I whispered.
He nodded, kissing my nose. He moved me off him to tuck me back into his chest.
“Sleep now,” he commanded softly.
I snuggled closer to his warm body, squeezing my eyes shut. Hopefully, the presence of it would help make the nightmares go away.
I jolted awake with a pounding heart and a panicked mind. I was suffocating, choking, air trapped in my chest. My throat closed up, and I struggled to get any oxygen into my lungs, no matter how hard I sucked it in desperately. The light switched on, Asher’s worried face was illuminated, and he clutched my shoulders.
“Holy fuck, Lily, what is it?” he commanded urgently, his eyes darting over my entire body as if he was looking for a wound.
I struggled to catch my breath, to get words out. It wasn’t lost on me, I hadn’t told him about my asthma, so he wouldn’t know about the terrifying attacks that had plagued me since I was a kid. Right after I turned nine in fact. I hadn’t had one in a long while, the terror was not unfamiliar, but unexpected.
“Lily?” he shouted as I wheezed, unable to speak.
Be calm. Try to be calm, I told myself. I knew panic made it worse. Calm is hard when an invisible hand tightened around your throat, making you drown with no water in sight. I moved my shaking arm to the drawer beside my bed where my inhaler lived.
“I’m calling a fuckin’ ambulance,” he bellowed, his eyes saturated with panic he couldn’t disguise. “Breathe, flower, hold on,” he pleaded.
The door opened and Asher’s eyes cut to it, his body tightening even further. Bex didn’t even say a word, as soon as she laid her eyes on me, she knew what was going on. She rushed to the bed, pushing Asher’s hands off my shoulders. He moved, more with shock than anything else I think.
“Lilmeister, look at me,” she commanded calmly. “Go to your place,” she ordered softly.
“What the fuck’s going on?” Asher yelled his phone at his ear.
Bex didn’t glance at him. “Get off the phone and get me the inhaler and nebulizer from the drawer beside her bed,” she snapped.
Asher’s face jolted for a spilt-second in surprise, then he moved.
“Lils, at me,” Bex commanded.
I locked my frantic eyes onto her calm ones.
“Think of the horizon,” she whispered as she fiddled with the inhaler Asher thrust into her hands. “You’re on a beach, remember? The air’s clear, it’s so warm it sinks into your bones, and you can hear the waves crashing in your ears. Take a deep breath, taste the saltwater air,” she commanded softly, her voice serene, eyes on me.
“What the fuck is going on?” Asher shouted, juxtaposing Bex’s gentle tone. His eyes locked on mine with something I’d never seen behind them. Fear.
“She’s having an asthma attack,” Bex replied quickly.
She placed the nebulizer over my mouth and pressed the button on the inhaler.
“Breathe,” she instructed calmly.
I focused, remembering my mom doing the same thing when I was little. She’d be calm, not panicked as I struggled to catch a breath. She’d told me to think of a sunset, go somewhere else and close my eyes and focus on that, not the strangling feeling in my chest. She’d sat holding my inhaler, describing in her melodic voice the place where I could go to find a way to breathe, to get through. She was never frantic. Though I’m sure she f
elt it, she never let it show, not until after at least. Then she’d rush me to the ER.
I closed my eyes fastening my shaking hands around the nebulizer. I tried to slow my heartbeat, picture the beautiful sunset, the horizon, my mom living beyond that, in that better place.
It took a while, to get past the panic that came with getting robbed of breath, of realizing I could suck it in once more, but I got there.
I opened my eyes to Bex and Asher’s worried gazes. I slowly lowered my inhaler.
“I’m okay,” I rasped after sucking in some more oxygen.
Asher stared at me, his face was blank, blinking a couple of times. Then his whole body sagged with relief. He moved closer to me, to cup my neck, his eyes intent on mine, searching my face.
“I’m still calling an ambulance,” he declared, glancing down onto his phone.
I put my hand on his arm. “I’m okay. I don’t need an ambulance,” I protested in a husky voice.
His eyes cut back to me. “You stopped fuckin’ breathing,” he said slowly, his voice ragged.
“It’s not the first time it’s happened,” I replied softly.
“It may be scary as shit, biker boy, but Lily’s right,” Bex put in from the other side of me, squeezing my hand. “She’s gone through this before. Not much the hospital can do now anyway. Trust me, I dragged her ass there the first time it happened,” she informed him with a shaky smile. I knew she was trying to mask her own fright. It wasn’t exactly cake when you watched someone suffocate on their own lungs. It wasn’t cake experiencing it either.
I smiled a sad smile at this. She had. She’d also called my mom in hysterics and then put her on the phone to me after locating my inhaler and thrusting it at me. Mom’s gentle voice had helped me focus on getting my breath back. That would never happen again. I’d never get that voice coaxing me out of the vortex of terror that came with my attacks. I blinked away the tears that came with this realization.
I unfastened the nebulizer and took a puff of the smaller part of the inhaler.
Asher’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t even know she had asthma,” he muttered quietly. His voice was defeated as if he was angry at himself.
Bex gave him a sad smile. “Well, our Lily’s not about sharing much with the general public, in case you hadn’t noticed.” She winked at me. “She keeps this particular nugget close to her chest, excuse the expression.” She squeezed my hand again, her eyes turning serious. “You okay now, Lils babe?”
I nodded, my throat feeling too dry to speak. Plus, I was too busy trying to catch my breath, it was hard to both breathe and speak after an attack. Bex knew this, and reached over to the glass of water beside my bed, handing it to me. I gulped the water greedily, trying to swallow in between breaths. I gave her a smile in thanks.
She watched me drink with her eagle eye, as did Asher, but his gaze was intent, alert, as if he was expecting me to drop dead at any moment.
“Okay, my work here is done,” Bex exclaimed, pushing off the bed. “As much as I hate seeing you like that, at least I got a glimpse of your man shirtless. That’ll turn anyone breathless,” she winked at me then left the room.
I giggled slightly, the sound wheezy. Only Bex could make me laugh moments after an asthma attack.
Asher was not smiling. He was staring at me, his hand reached out to touch my throat lightly, then moved to my chest, laying it there for a moment. We were silent, his eyes didn’t leave mine, his hand moving on my chest with my breaths.
“Been in a lot of scary situations, babe,” he began quietly. “Been shot at, had to shoot at other people. Thought death might be around the corner on many of those occasions,” he continued, his eyes never leaving mine.
My heart started pounding under his hand, the image of Asher getting shot at causing more panic than the breath that had been stolen from me moments before.
“I’ve never been more afraid than just then, waking up to see you not being able to fuckin’ breathe. Not knowing what was going on, or how to help you. Thinking you were going to fucking die, right in front of me. Not being able to do a fuckin’ thing. I’d take bullets over that any day,” he declared hotly. His hand moved to my jaw. “Me watching it was scary as shit. You experiencing it, fuck, flower.” He actually grimaced, shaking his head. He was silent for a moment, looking down at my hand which was loosely grasping my inhaler. His own moved to cover it before he met my eyes once more. I almost flinched at the tortured look in his usually strong gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked softly.
I shrugged. “Well, we haven’t exactly had much time to get to know the details of each other’s lives, if you haven’t noticed,” I pointed out, taking another puff of my inhaler.
Asher’s jaw went hard. “We’ve had two weeks of getting to know details,” he clipped, staring at my inhaler. “That’s a pretty important detail, Lily. Especially when you’re dancing on goddamned tables, and drinking yourself into the ground….” he paused, grimacing. “Jesus, letting me fuck you like that….” he trailed off sounding disgusted in himself.
My stomach dropped. “That….” I whispered hoarsely, “that right there, is why I didn’t tell you. It’s not ... sexy. This….” I waved the inhaler, “I don’t want you treating me like glass. I like that you treat me like I won’t break, I never want you to look at me like you are now. Like I’m weak,” I whispered. I’d already had enough things that crippled me, my shyness, my inability to be bad ass in scary situations like Gwen and Amy, my utter normalcy. “I don’t want you to see me like I’m some weak flower, some damsel needing to be rescued. Someone you need to take care of. I’m not that. I don’t want to be your burden,” I continued, voicing my worst fear.
Asher’s whole body stilled, and his jaw turned tight. He didn’t say a word. Not for a long while.
“You’re angry,” I observed after I couldn’t stand the silence any longer.
“Not angry, just thinking,” he replied tightly.
“Thinking about being angry,” I clarified.
His face softened. “No, Lily. Just thinking. About how I can educate you on how amazing and how far from weak you are. How I can make you see you’re special. How I can make you understand that there’s nothing that can make me think otherwise,” he murmured. “How you’re not a delicate flower, but the most beautiful, most resilient woman I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. A flower that gets trampled on by life, but somehow manages to emerge, unbruised, and more beautiful than ever after it.” He cupped my face. “You don’t need anyone to take care of you. I want to. It’s a privilege to be given a beautiful flower to nurture, to protect.”
The breath left me, but this time in a good way.
“I’m coming to the conclusion there’s not much I can say. Not right now anyway,” he continued. “I don’t think it’s about me saying anything. I think it’s about showing you. Every single day. Starting tomorrow,” he stated.
He moved so his back was against the wall, and I was buried in his chest once more. “That’s tomorrow. Which you need rest for. Now you sleep,” he ordered firmly.
Usually, I didn’t sleep, not after an attack. I’d lie awake terrified for hours, trying to remind myself breath was coming easy, my mind taunting me with how easy that could change. I prepared for that. To my utter surprise, I let sleep claim me, encircled in Asher’s arms.
Because I fell into oblivion so quickly, I didn’t notice Asher watching me. Didn’t realize he spent the rest of the night with his hand on my chest, only surrendering to sleep when the daylight kissed the corner of the room, chasing away the demons of the night.
“I know I said you needed your rest for today, but I didn’t plan to let you do anything that would require energy ... not until later at least,” Asher murmured, his arms going around my stomach and mouth at my neck. “I’m also not fond of waking up without you, I’ve had enough mornings of that,” he added on a grumble.
“You look so cute when you’re sleeping, I didn’t want to ruin it,?
?? I replied, my eyes on the pan I was cooking breakfast in. “Plus, you said you wanted to get to know each other right? Getting to know me means tasting my world famous French toast,” I told him seriously.
Asher squeezed my waist. “I’m sure it tastes good, flower, but not as good as the breakfast I planned on having this morning.” His hand moved down to the waistband of my shorts.
I swallowed, doing my best to focus on the task at hand.
“And I’m not cute,” he continued, his hand tickling the top of my panties. “I’m manly and rugged, handsome if you must, but never cute,” he said firmly.
I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing. I’d never really seen the playful side of Asher, I liked it. The juxtaposition of his muscled and hard exterior with such silliness was refreshing. It was also the first genuine laugh I’d had in a long time, in recorded memory it seemed.
Asher moved the pan off the stove and twisted me in his arms, hands going to my neck.
“I’ll forego my planned breakfast to hear that any day,” he told me quietly, his eyes serious. He stroked the corner of my eye. “See those light up.” His eyes moved to my mouth, which was still miraculously turned up. “You’ve got the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen,” he whispered. “I’ll move Heaven and earth to give you more reasons to show it to me.”
I blinked. “You have to let me finish our breakfast,” I muttered, not needing those feelings, the ones that came with those words. Not first thing in the morning. Not when they chased away the demons I’d been waking up with. I had to learn how to chase them away myself. Relying on Asher to do so would result in disaster.
He gave me a long look then leaned in and kissed me firmly. I expected him to move back and let me do my thing. He stayed, searching my face.