24. Isla

24

ISLA

I need to get my life together. Today is supposed to be that day, however, my body isn’t cooperating.

Right now, I’m curled into a tight ball as cramps rip through my lower abdomen. I try to shift positions, but it doesn’t help the pain. Getting my heating pad might work, but I’m already a hot, sweaty mess, so all I would do is get hotter.

And not in a good way.

Thankfully, my professor canceled today’s class, so I don’t have to worry about that. Not to mention, Tessa hasn’t been around in a couple of days. I don’t know why, and I don’t care.

The only other thing I had on my agenda today was to get more footage of Asher, but that is not happening. I don’t want to be in the same vicinity as him right now. I’m still fighting with myself about whether this mess of whatever is going on between us is all a bad idea.

One that I poured fuel on when I kissed him and let him kiss me elsewhere.

Groaning, I fumble for my phone on the nightstand and send a quick text to him. I swear that takes all of my energy.

Me: Hey, I’m not feeling well. We’ll have to reschedule our recording session for tonight.

I don’t give any details because, well, that would be awkward as hell. I toss my phone aside and bury my face in my pillow, wishing that the pain would subside. It’s been a while since I’ve had cramps this bad, not since I got my PCOS diagnosis. Just my luck that they hit me full force now when I’m already dealing with the emotional fallout from everything else.

My phone vibrates with a response from Asher. Should I read his message? Who am I kidding? I pick up my phone and look at the text.

Asher: I’m sorry to hear that. Do you need anything?

I stare at the words on the screen, half-tempted to ignore them. But I know Asher, and he will only let this go once he gets a response. With a sigh, I type back a reply.

Me: I’m fine. Nothing I can’t handle. Thanks though.

I set my phone aside again, not expecting any further response. Asher has a busy schedule, so I’m sure that’ll be the end of it. I curl tighter into myself, wishing the pain meds I took earlier would kick in already.

But then my phone vibrates again. What the hell? I put the phone up to my face again to read Asher’s message.

Asher: What are your symptoms?

I blink at the phone screen because I’m surprised by Asher’s follow-up question. Does he really want to know about my period symptoms? That seems a bit... personal. But then again, it’s not like we haven’t seen everything there is to see about each other, so what does it really matter?

But I’ll give him an out first.

Me: Don’t worry about it.

Asher: Tell me.

I debate how to respond. Part of me wants to brush it off and tell him it’s nothing serious. His genuine concern is touching. Before I can overthink it further, another wave of cramps hits, and I wince. Screw it, might as well be honest.

Me: Some horrible cramps amongst other things.

I hit send and close my eyes, focusing on my breathing to try to ride out the pain. A few minutes later, my phone buzzes again. Asher’s response pops up.

Asher: I’ll be there in 20.

My eyes widen. He’s coming over? Now? Why? A small thrill goes through me at the thought of seeing him, followed by panic. I’m a mess right now, sweaty and gross, and not in any state to entertain anyone.

Me: You don’t need to do that. I’ll survive. Really.

I chew my lip as I wait for his reply, praying he listens. But that’s foolish. If Asher can help someone, he’ll do it, even when it means going out of his way.

Asher: Too late, already omw. Be there soon.

There’s no way this is real life. My ex-boyfriend, who I’ve been avoiding like the plague since the kiss that shouldn’t have happened, is on his way over. Right now. While I’m curled up in a ball of period-induced agony. Just perfect.

I drag myself out of bed with a groan, determined to at least make myself somewhat presentable before he arrives. Somehow, I replace my sweat-soaked sheets and change into a clean pair of leggings and an oversized hoodie. I manage to make it to the bathroom to brush my teeth and hair and splash some cold water on my face. It’s not much, but it’s the best I can do, given the circumstances.

I’m rushing around my room to the best of my ability. As I move around, my elbow knocks over a stack of papers on Tessa’s desk.

Shit.

I take my time bending down to gather the things I dropped when something catches my eye.

It’s a small black notebook. I know I shouldn’t open it, but what the hell? She already hates me. When I do, I see a list of names written in Tessa’s handwriting.

My heart skips a beat as I recognize some names. They are people from our dorm, classmates, and even a few professors. Next to each name are details about each person, and I’m only more confused by it all. Why would she take the time to do this?

On the bright side, as I’m skimming through the pages, I notice my name isn’t among them.

Since I don’t know why she’s doing this, there isn’t much I can do. So, I place the notebook back among Tessa’s papers. I carefully stack everything into a neat pile and set it back on her desk. As of now, what’s on her desk doesn’t concern me.

I walk over to my bed, and then there’s a knock on the door. With a quick glance at the time, I can see Asher kept his word. He’s here twenty minutes later. I take a deep breath before I open it to reveal Asher standing there with a grocery bag in hand. He looks amazing, as always, in a simple t-shirt and jeans. His hair is messy, as if he’s been running his hands through it. I hate that it reminds me of how it looked when I ran my hands through it while he was fucking me with his tongue.

“Hey,”he whispers. I can see that his green eyes are full of concern as they sweep over me.“How are you feeling?”

I step aside to let him in, shrugging one shoulder.“I’ve been better. You didn’t have to come all the way over here.”

Asher sets the bag down on my desk, unpacking it.“I know. But I wanted to. I got you some stuff that might help.”He pulls out a bottle of extra-strength Tylenol, a large bag of Skittles, some chocolate, some tea, and some comfy socks.

I hold back tears at the thoughtful gesture.“Ash... Thank you. That’s really sweet of you.”

He shrugs, looking almost shy. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him like that, if ever.“It’s nothing. I just hate the thought of you suffering alone.”He hesitates, then adds,“I wanted to see you. Evenif it’s not under the best circumstances.”

I’ll never admit that my heart does a little flip in my chest. It’s taking everything within me to keep my expression neutral.“Well, um, thanks again. I appreciate it.”

Asher nods, his gaze lingering on mine for a charged moment before he clears his throat and looks away.“You should lay back down. Can I get you anything else? Want me to make you some of that tea?”

I hesitate, torn between wanting his company and not wanting to be vulnerable around him right now. But the pain wins out, and I find myself nodding.“Sure, tea would be great. Thanks.”

Asher makes me some tea while I gingerly lower myself back onto my bed, propping myself up with pillows. He returns a few minutes later, carefully handing me a steaming mug.

“Careful, it’s hot,”he murmurs, settling himself in my desk chair, keeping a bit of distance between us.

I blow on the tea and take a small sip. It’s the perfect temperature, and he’s even added a bit of honey, which is just how I like it.“It’s perfect. Thank you.”

We sit in semi-awkward silence for a few minutes as I drink the tea and the medicine I took starts to kick in. Finally, I can’t take it anymore.

“You didn’t have to do this. I would’ve been fine on my own.”

“That’s not the point. What matters is that you don’t need to be alone. I’m able to be here for you, and more importantly, I want to be here for you.”

Silence passes between us as I try to figure out the words to say. He’s almost stunned me into silence, and it takes a second for my brain to catch up.“Thanks. Again. I normally wouldn’t admit this, but it means a lot that you’re here.” Damn, these hormones are making me more emotional than usual.

Asher’s facial expression relaxes.“Anytime, sunshine. You know that.”

This time, I can’t take it anymore. The question slips past my lips before I can stop it.“Why are you calling me sunshine again?”

“I guess old habits die hard.”

I shake my head.“Bullshit.”

“Prove it.”

I narrow my eyes at Asher, trying to read between the lines of his cryptic response.“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying calling me sunshine is more than just an old habit?”

Asher leans back in the chair, studying me with an inscrutable expression.“I’m saying that you need to prove that this isn’t more than me being stuck in a loop of calling you that name. Then again, maybe some things never really went away, even if we both tried to pretend they did.”

I look down and play with the handle of the mug in my hands as I try to process Asher’s words. Is he implying what I think he is? That his feelings for me never went away, despite everything that’s happened between us?

The thought both thrills and terrifies me. I’ve worked so hard to move on, to convince myself that Asher and I are better off being acquaintances since I came to Crestwood. But if I’m honest with myself, my feelings for him never disappeared. I’ve only buried them because of the pain he inflicted on me.

Speaking of pain, I slam my eyes shut as another cramp rolls through my stomach. When the pain dulls, I hold my arm out, and Asher takes the mug.

“This sucks,”I mutter, more to myself than to Asher.“Having a uterus is the worst sometimes.”

To my surprise, Asher chuckles.“I can only imagine. Is it always this bad?”

I shrug one shoulder.“Not always, but often enough. A few weeks ago, my doctor diagnosed me with PCOS. It varies by person, but it can make everything worse.”

Asher’s eyes narrow, confusion filling his expression.“PCOS? What’s that?”

“Oh, um. It stands for Polycystic Ovary Syndrome,”I explain, shifting to sit up a bit more.“Basically, my hormones are all out of whack, which causes a bunch of lovely symptoms and can cause super painful periods, weight gain, acne, excess hair growth... the list goes on. It’s a real treat.”

“Shit, that sounds rough. I’m sorry you have to deal with all of that.”He rubs a hand across his face.“Is there anything that helps manage the symptoms?”

A snort leaves my lips.“Birth control pills, for one. It’s ironic since PCOS can also make it harder to get pregnant. Not that I’m thinking about that anytime soon,”I add quickly.

Why did I have to bring up pregnancy, of all things? That’s awkward as hell. When Asher doesn’t react, I’m intrigued and thankful. I clear my throat and continue.“Anyway, yeah, the pill helps regulate hormones. Losing weight can make a difference in some people, as can cutting back on sugar and carbs. Easier said than done when all you want is Skittles and chocolate, though.”

“Speaking of...”Asher reaches for the things he unpacked from the grocery bag. He picks up the huge chocolate bar he bought.“For medicinal purposes, of course.”

I can’t help but laugh.“Oh, of course. Totally legit.”I make grabby hands for the chocolate, and he hands it over with a grin.

As I tear into the wrapper, Asher speaks again.“For real, though, if there’s ever anything I can do to help, even if it’s just bringing you emergency candy, I’m here.”

I glance up from the chocolate bar.“I... Thank you. That means a lot.”I break off a piece of chocolate and pop it in my mouth, letting the sweetness melt on my tongue before I speak again.“I’m not used to having someone around who wants to take care of me like this. Outside of my parents and Selene. It’s nice. Strange, but nice.”

I don’t bring up the fact that he did his best to take care of me when we were dating. It’s pointless because we both know he seems to be slipping into that role again.

“Happy to be of service. You deserve it, Isla. More than you realize.”

His words make my heart clench because, deep down, I know he’s right. I take another bite of the chocolate as I wonder if I should switch it out for the Skittles that are next to Asher. Once I’m done with the piece of candy I’m eating, I say,“If you bring those Skittles over here, I’ll let you stay and watch a movie with me.”

Asher’s eyes widen before a smirk appears on his face. He grabs the bag and stands up.“Sounds like a lot of work, but I think I can manage it.”

He walks over and sits down on my bed. He’s careful to maintain a bit of space between us. It is difficult, given how big he is and how small my bed is, but we figure it out. I grab my laptop and pull up Netflix. “Do you have any preferences?”

He shrugs.“Lady’s choice. I’m just along for the ride.”

I scroll through the options before settling on a lighthearted rom-com. As the opening credits roll, I find myself snuggling deeper into my pillows, and it just so happens that my head lands on his shoulder.

And neither one of us says a word.