Boys South of the Mason Dixon Page 14
“Uh, okay, yeah,” he replied, sounding nervous and uncertain.
“Good. I’ll call you later.” I quickly ended the call before he could say more. Climbing into my Jeep, I chose not to think about what I was going to say. If I did, I would’ve talked myself out of this. I turned my Jeep down the hill toward the Sutton house instead of going to town. Asher had been running from me long enough. He needed to face this once and for all. He needed to face us. What he did and what he threw away.
Steel’s white truck was gone when I pulled around the house. I made my way to the barn. Asher’s blue truck was parked where he had always parked it, just to the right of the pump house. He could see it from his bedroom window whenever he parked it there. That kept his brothers from sneaking off with it.
I stopped beside his truck and turned off my Jeep, but that was as far as I could get. Facing Asher was terrifying. His rejection and refusal to look at me had always felt like a knife plunging right through my heart. I needed a moment to mentally prepare. I knew I couldn’t do this with him and walk away unscathed. I knew what lay in store for me afterwards.
The knock on my window startled me. Bray was standing there frowning. Taking one more deep breath, I closed my fingers around the metal latch, opening the door and stepping down.
“Steel ain’t here, but then I’m guessin’ you know that, seein’ as how you’re parked next to Ash.”
Bray’s tone held a warning. He thought I was here to cause trouble. I wasn’t, not any more than Asher had caused when he drove into town and sent my heart into a tailspin again.
“Bray, it’s past time I got some closure. Back off and let me go get it. He’s had three years to get his head from his ass. Now I’m ready to move on and I need to finish this . . . thing . . . what was left unsaid between us . . . when it ended and your brother did the ending.”
Bray stood there a moment, then sighed, stepping back so I could get past him. “You’re right. This shit needs cleared up. Momma’s gone with Brent to get some feed and some flowers for the front pots. Asher is . . .”
“ . . . right here,” he said, that deep familiar voice that still taunted me in my dreams interrupting Bray’s. Asher had seen me drive up. I expected that. It’s why I parked here. I wanted him to know I was coming.
“Fix this shit,” Bray said, glaring at his older brother, before turning and walking away, leaving us standing there alone for the very first time in years.
I’d come to demand closure and now that I had his complete, undivided attention, I couldn’t move a muscle. I couldn’t form any words. I felt paralyzed. Asher stood a few feet away, only wearing a pair of worn jeans hung low enough on his hips that his v-cut lower oblique were in clear unhindered view. Where the hell was his shirt?
As if he could read my mind, the black cotton fabric of his tee shirt suddenly draped over all those muscles, the same muscles I used to think were made for sex, back when I was the one Asher was having sex with. Lifting my eyes, I took in his wet locks and freshly shaven face, realizing he’d just showered.
“You talked to Steel?” he asked, and my knees went weak. Why were my knees going weak? Why was being close to him like this as insanely all-consuming as it had been three long years ago? Before he tossed me out like trash.
“Not exactly. We’re meeting up later to talk. Before I talked to him, I wanted to talk to you.” It had taken all my strength to speak calmly. I wanted to scream at Asher. Demand to know why he hated me.
“You need to talk to Steel, not me,” he replied, then he turned to walk away.
Just like before, he was blocking me out. Refusing to acknowledge me. I hated him again, how he used me, and then could so easily forget me. I hated that I still loved him. A scream tore loose and I lunged, grabbing Asher’s arm to stop him. He wouldn’t leave me again.
This time I wouldn’t stand here and take it. I would tell him what a horrible person he was. I roared “no!” as my hands wrapped around his bicep, which once used to curl around my shoulder back when I was something precious to him. Pushing those memories aside, I squeezed his arm and jerked him toward me, as hard as I could.
Asher stopped. His body tensed. Asher Sutton was not a small guy. He was all hard lines and muscles. Broad shoulders with a narrow waist. Thighs that made women drool. Yet, here I was screaming at him, and yanking on his arm like a kid, throwing a temper tantrum.
“Not this time! You won’t walk away from me again!” I tried to fill my voice with determination but I was fighting back tears inside.
Asher slowly turned. I let his arm go, suddenly realizing I was touching him. When his eyes met mine, I was unprepared for the pain I saw in them. It took my breath away and I had to take a step back to recover.
“Haven’t I done enough?” he replied. “Can’t this be all I have to endure? Do you want me to continue killing us both? Reduce us both to nothing?”
He didn’t try to hide his pain, that hateful mask of relaxed indifference he’d used with me for so long now replaced by unchecked, raw anguish. It took all I had in me to stop myself from taking him into my arms, to make that look in his eyes go away.
“Why? I need to know why,” I spoke softly. I stood where I was because I knew Asher would push me away if I went to him. He wouldn’t let me touch him. There was too much emotion running through him.
“I can’t be who you need me to be. I can’t be who you deserve me to be. I thought once that I could, but I found out that I made a terrible mistake. One I can’t take back.” He tightly closed his eyes, muttered a curse, before opening them again and leveling them on me. “If I could erase the past, our time together, I would take it all back. Every single moment, Dixie. I would wipe out every goddamn moment. Then you could move on and forget me. You were never meant to belong to a Sutton boy.”
A week had passed since he first kissed me. Walking out my front door every single morning to find Asher Sutton standing at his truck, with his arms crossed and that smile on his face, still seemed unreal to me. Like I was living in a dream. But it wasn’t a dream. This was real. I was Asher Sutton’s . . . girlfriend? I then realized I wasn’t sure I should call myself that. We hadn’t discussed it yet.
He kissed me. He walked me to my classes. Had me wait on him until practice was over so he could drive me home. But we didn’t go anywhere together. He wasn’t asking me out on dates. Maybe I was making more of this than was actually there. My heart sank at the mere thought I’d been imaging all this.
“Mornin’,” Asher said as I reached him. He always waited leaning back against the passenger side of the truck.
“Good morning,” I replied, trying to smile. The joy I’d felt at stepping outside and seeing Asher was quickly fading. Maybe I was misunderstanding this thing between us.
Asher took a step closer. His hand cupped my face. “What’s wrong? I’m used to seeing a smile. Not a big fan of that frown.”
I tried harder to force a smile.
“Dix, that ain’t a real smile,” was his response.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Guess I’m not awake yet. Stayed up too late reading.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he bent his head and pressed a kiss to my temple, looking behind me before moving back. “Not brave enough to kiss you the way I like with your daddy watching us. I can see his figure in the window.”