whisper before opening the door. I don’t look back to see his reaction, my heart won’t allow it. I don’t stop until I’m in my house with my back resting against the front door. Only then do I realize that I did want Asher Hunt to kiss me.
I’ve been pacing around my room since Asher dropped me off. All I can think about is how I’m going to make this right. The last few times we’ve been together, he always makes plans with me for the next day before letting me out of his sight, but he didn’t make any this time. I should let him come to me when he’s ready, but I’m just worried that maybe he never will be.
My phone starts to ring and I quickly move to my dresser not even bothering to see who it is before picking it up. I want to hear Asher’s voice again.
“Hello,” I say, continuing to pace.
“You finally answered your phone.”
Beau.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I wasn’t prepared to explain anything to him tonight.
“Hey,” I say, banging my palm against my forehead. I’ve been stupid to ignore him for this long. All I’ve done is create an even more awkward conversation.
“Look, Kate, I don’t know what’s up with you, but when you don’t answer my calls, I worry about you. What’s going on?” he asks. Beau never beats around the bush, and he always expects the truth from me. I just wish he knew how much further he pushes me away by always expecting something from me. Asher pushes me to do things I wouldn’t usually do, but Beau pushes me emotionally. Maybe, subconsciously, I am pushing him away so that I can figure out who I am now.
“I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot on my mind,” I reply. I’m good at giving only half of the truth.
“I’m coming home this weekend,” he says, frustration dripping from his voice.
“No. I want you to spend one month just having fun, and then if you want to come see me for a weekend, you can. Maybe I can even come to visit you.” The last part isn’t likely to happen because too many people from my past go to the same college; people who made my life hell the last two years because I wasn’t “me” anymore.
“Dammit, why are you doing this? And what’s this shit about if I want to come see you?” he asks, his voice getting angrier.
“You’ve been with me almost constantly for two years, Beau. At some point, you just have to live your life and let me wallow in mine!” I yell, more than a little frustrated with him.
“I talked to Morgan the other day,” he says suddenly.
“What does she have to do with this?” I ask, softly banging my head against the window. He knows how Morgan treated me, and I’m surprised he even gave her the time of day.
“She stopped me in the student center to tell me she saw you last weekend at Carrington Days. She said you looked really good . . . with your new friend,” he says, putting extra emphasis on the last word.
I close my eyes tight and turn back to the window, sliding down to the floor. I didn’t want him to find out about Asher this way. I don’t want him to think he’s replaceable because he’s not.
“Oh, that was just Asher. He’s new in town, and I was showing him around,” I reply, resting my forehead against my knees.
“I could barely get you out of the house when I was around, but you’re going to Carrington Days with some random new guy?” His voice is full of frustration.
I wince. “He dared me.”
He’s silent for a few seconds. I try to think of something else besides my lame excuse, but I can’t. “You know what, I’m too tired to deal with this today. I’ll just text you tomorrow.” He doesn’t wait for me to reply before hanging up the phone.
I feel like someone just drove a screwdriver through my heart. I don’t know why I keep him at arm’s length when it’s obvious he just wants to be there for me, but I also don’t know why he lets me. He just wants what’s best for me, but I hate that he keeps sacrificing his own happiness to give it to me. I
I’ve been pacing around my room since Asher dropped me off. All I can think about is how I’m going to make this right. The last few times we’ve been together, he always makes plans with me for the next day before letting me out of his sight, but he didn’t make any this time. I should let him come to me when he’s ready, but I’m just worried that maybe he never will be.
My phone starts to ring and I quickly move to my dresser not even bothering to see who it is before picking it up. I want to hear Asher’s voice again.
“Hello,” I say, continuing to pace.
“You finally answered your phone.”
Beau.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I wasn’t prepared to explain anything to him tonight.
“Hey,” I say, banging my palm against my forehead. I’ve been stupid to ignore him for this long. All I’ve done is create an even more awkward conversation.
“Look, Kate, I don’t know what’s up with you, but when you don’t answer my calls, I worry about you. What’s going on?” he asks. Beau never beats around the bush, and he always expects the truth from me. I just wish he knew how much further he pushes me away by always expecting something from me. Asher pushes me to do things I wouldn’t usually do, but Beau pushes me emotionally. Maybe, subconsciously, I am pushing him away so that I can figure out who I am now.
“I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot on my mind,” I reply. I’m good at giving only half of the truth.
“I’m coming home this weekend,” he says, frustration dripping from his voice.
“No. I want you to spend one month just having fun, and then if you want to come see me for a weekend, you can. Maybe I can even come to visit you.” The last part isn’t likely to happen because too many people from my past go to the same college; people who made my life hell the last two years because I wasn’t “me” anymore.
“Dammit, why are you doing this? And what’s this shit about if I want to come see you?” he asks, his voice getting angrier.
“You’ve been with me almost constantly for two years, Beau. At some point, you just have to live your life and let me wallow in mine!” I yell, more than a little frustrated with him.
“I talked to Morgan the other day,” he says suddenly.
“What does she have to do with this?” I ask, softly banging my head against the window. He knows how Morgan treated me, and I’m surprised he even gave her the time of day.
“She stopped me in the student center to tell me she saw you last weekend at Carrington Days. She said you looked really good . . . with your new friend,” he says, putting extra emphasis on the last word.
I close my eyes tight and turn back to the window, sliding down to the floor. I didn’t want him to find out about Asher this way. I don’t want him to think he’s replaceable because he’s not.
“Oh, that was just Asher. He’s new in town, and I was showing him around,” I reply, resting my forehead against my knees.
“I could barely get you out of the house when I was around, but you’re going to Carrington Days with some random new guy?” His voice is full of frustration.
I wince. “He dared me.”
He’s silent for a few seconds. I try to think of something else besides my lame excuse, but I can’t. “You know what, I’m too tired to deal with this today. I’ll just text you tomorrow.” He doesn’t wait for me to reply before hanging up the phone.
I feel like someone just drove a screwdriver through my heart. I don’t know why I keep him at arm’s length when it’s obvious he just wants to be there for me, but I also don’t know why he lets me. He just wants what’s best for me, but I hate that he keeps sacrificing his own happiness to give it to me. I
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