Chapter 30 Asher Nash

I Don’t Want to Go

We finish our snacks, and I head over to the bed, sated and full. I lay down and motion for her to come join me, and I wrap my arms around her as she rests her head on my chest.

“Tell me you’re staying the night,” I demand.

“You know I can’t. If we’re trying to keep this a secret, there will be far too many questions coming from my parents since I’m staying with them.” She sighs as she draws little circles on my chest.

“They’re overprotective,” I say softly.

“My dad is, yes,” she admits.

“Why?”

She glances up at me, pulling back a little. “Well, for one thing, a player on his team once broke my heart. And for another, he’s told me I deserve more than a football player who travels half the season, whose life is dedicated to football instead of to me…” She shrugs as she trails off.

“Who was the player? I’ll kill him.” She chuckles, and before she answers, I add, “Plenty of guys make it work. Look at all three of my brothers. Two are married and still involved in the game, one is retired. But all three shifted their focus to the women in their lives when the right one came along.” I’m staring at the ceiling as I speak from the heart, something I’m not sure I’ve ever really done before with a woman.

“That’s what I’ve told him—or tried to. But I think he was the bad boy football player my mom’s parents never approved of, and maybe my mom was more forgiving than she should’ve been.” She’s conjecturing, and I need to clarify something.

I clear my throat. “Not every football player is a cheater, Des—certainly not the Nash brothers, anyway. Our mom raised us with values and ethics, though the same can’t be said for my father, who tends to be the crux of most of my issues.”

“Is he a cheater? Is that why they got divorced?” she asks. She slaps her hand over her mouth. “Sorry. That might be overstepping.”

I shake my head. “Not at all. I don’t know if he cheated on her, but I think there were a lot of layers involved in their divorce, not the least of which involved the way our dad treated the four of his kids our entire lives. I think my mom might’ve stayed for the four of us, stayed out of complacency, stayed because she was comfortable. Probably a million different reasons. But it’s over now, and having parents get divorced even when you’re an adult can still have effects the kids never saw coming.”

“Like what?” she asks.

“Just the whole idea of commitment. It fucked with all four of us, I think. None of us even thought about a future with a woman until our parents got divorced. It was like my dad brainwashed us into focusing totally on football and not our personal lives, and it’s why Linc was thirty-six before he got married.” I try to deflect a little, opting not to talk about how it made me fear commitment in general.

“What’s your relationship like with your dad?” she asks.

I stare up at the ceiling some more. “Complicated.”

“How?”

I shrug a little even though she’s lying on my shoulder. “He was my hero when I was a kid. You know? In that stereotypical way dads are for kids. He was a pro football player, and that was pretty kickass, which I’m sure you can relate to.”

She nods, and I realize for the first time that it’s something we share in common. Most of the women who lay in a bed with me are only around for one night, and they don’t understand a single damn thing about this life. But her dad lived it. He’s still living it. She’s been around it her entire life like I have.

Except I made it my career. She didn’t.

“But then he retired, and he changed. He became obsessed with this bar he owned with his former friend, and he put everything into it. I don’t know all the details about it, but I feel like his downfall stemmed from that. His pride took the wheel, and he lost a lot. Friends, family, money. It drained everything out of him, and it turned him into this bitter, selfish old man. Yet deep down, I know my hero is still in there.” I find myself getting oddly emotional talking about my dad.

“Of course he is,” she says softly. “What about your brothers? Are they close with him?”

“That’s complicated, too,” I admit. “None of them understand why I live with him, and sometimes I don’t know why, either. Maybe to save him. He was there for me during some rough times in my life, and even if we butt heads now, I can’t forget that. But living with him means I’m not as close to my mom as I used to be. She doesn’t come around and stay with me. She’ll go to Linc’s to help out with the kids, or she’ll go to Gray’s to use his pool. I miss her.”

I’m going much deeper than I thought I would with someone who’s only supposed to be a two and done.

“What’s it like having three brothers?” she asks.

“Do you have any siblings?” I ask before I answer.

She shakes her head.

“Sometimes it’s the greatest thing in the world, and other times it’s, well, the opposite of that. I always say Linc’s the leader, which is obvious given his career choice. Grayson’s the outgoing one, Spencer’s the smart one, and then there’s me. The youngest. The risk-taker. The wild one. I somehow fit in with all three of them, and at the same time, I don’t fit in with any of them.”

“I doubt that,” she murmurs softly. “You seem so…”

I wait for her to fill in the blank, and my heart seems to pick up speed. The word feels like it’ll hold a lot of weight, whatever it is, and I’m not sure why.

“Charming,” she finally finishes. “Like you get along with everybody, but you also don’t care what anybody thinks about you.”

“I care what you think about me,” I admit.

“And you fish for compliments when you don’t need to.” She pulls back off me and looks me in the eyes, simply to roll her eyes at me, and I grab her by the back of her neck and pull her down for a kiss.

She laughs as she resists, but eventually, she gives in and kisses me back.

“I never thought much about settling down until I saw them doing it. I never thought I wanted it. But then this gorgeous woman ordered a dirty martini, extra dirty, and I was immediately smitten.” The words tumble out of my mouth before I can back up and stop them…before I can act like they aren’t way over the top and too much too soon. I clear my throat as she stares down tenderly at me, and she runs a fingertip along my jaw. “I guess I never thought much about the future until I met you.”

She leans down and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “And now?”

My eyes flick down to her lips. “And now I can’t stop wondering when the next time I can get back inside you will be.”

Her eyes widen a little at my words, and then I get my answer.

It’s nearly an hour later when she sighs deeply. “I don’t want to go…”

“But you have to?” I guess, and she nods.

“Yeah. My dad finding out about us would be bad for both of us.”

I nod. I get what she’s saying, and I get why she has to go…but still. “I don’t want you to go,” I admit.

“I don’t even have a shirt to wear home since you ripped mine off me.” She purses her lips at me.

“You can take mine,” I suggest, and her eyes seem to light up a little at that. I can grab a shirt from a store downstairs. She moves to get up, and I playfully grab her and pull her back against my body. “When can I see you again?” I ask over her giggles. I pepper kisses to her neck.

“As soon as possible,” she says.

“I have plans tomorrow night. Can you do Wednesday after practice?”

She nods. “Yeah, I think that should work.”

“It’s a date.”

“A date? Like on your calendar, or a real one?”

I laugh. “How about a real one?”

“But we have to hide, and everyone in this town knows who you are.” She twists in my arms so she’s facing me, and I lean down and press another kiss to her mouth.

“Then I guess I better get planning.” I have no idea exactly what to do, but I’m a creative guy. I’ll come up with something.

She heads out, much to my disappointment, and I call down to the front desk to request a shirt from the gift shop. They send one up, and I head home myself. No sense in spending the night here when every place I turn just reminds me of her.

On my ride home, I look up some shit to do on Wednesday. We could go to a movie. We should probably avoid concerts and shows on the Strip since she’s right, I could be recognized. There’s a restaurant that’s entirely dark inside, so that’s a possibility. I could rent a space somewhere or do something after hours. We could drive out to the desert and stargaze.

All possibilities, and I’ll make some decisions when my body isn’t quite so depleted and I’m not so exhausted.

When I walk in the front door at one thirty, I’m expecting a quiet house. That’s not what I get.

My dad is at the kitchen table with three other men around his age, and they’re playing poker.

My dad isn’t the friendliest, and I have no idea who these three men are. They’re not former football players, at least not ones I recognize.

I sigh. I was kind of hoping I’d be able to quietly slip in and head to bed, but my dad’s eyes lift to me when I pad by the table.

“Hey, here’s our fifth!” he says. He stands and claps me on the shoulder like we’re much closer than we are these days. “You want in?”

I shake my head, and it almost feels like he’s the dude in his twenties and I’m the responsible adult. “Long night. I’m turning in.”

“Ah, that’s not the man I raised.” He’s taunting me.

“In fact, it is,” I say dryly. I wave at the other men. “Hi. I’m Asher, his roommate.”

“My youngest son,” he says. “Tight end for the Aces.” He says the words proudly, and I think it’s less to do with my accomplishments and more to do with the fact that I’m following in his footsteps as a pro football player. “And these are my new poker buddies, Phil, Tom, and Herman.”

Sounds like a lively bunch.

I nod at the three guests. “Nice meeting you.” I can’t help but wonder where he met them, but I don’t care enough to find out tonight. “Have a good night.”

It’s a little after eleven the next morning when my dad walks into the kitchen and starts a coffee pod for himself. I’m considering heading into the gym near the Complex for a run and a swim when he says, “Where were you last night?”

I huff out a chuckle. “Noneya.” As if I’d say a word to my dad about being with Desiree.

As if he can read my mind, he says, “Did you hear about Bill Dixon’s wife?”

My brows dip as my chest races. Did something happen to Des’s mom? “What about her?”

“She’s a billionaire.”

I heave out a breath, but my reaction to the mere thought that Desiree might be hurting over something going on in her family is startling, to say the least.

His words don’t register for a second.

“She’s a…what?”

He nods. “She owns Berkshire hotels. I guess her daughter’s getting it down the road.” He whistles through his teeth as my fucking claws come all the way out. “Can you imagine the fortune there? See what you can do.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and I feel sick.

He has literally no idea that I spent most of the night with her. He has no idea that I find myself falling in deep with her as we start to get to know one another. He has no idea that I’m already addicted to her—to her eyes, her laugh, her scent, her cunt.

And I had literally no idea that she’s the heiress to a hotel fortune.

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything. I don’t care about her money any more than she cares about mine.

But it does give me a little insight into who she is…and the fact that she’s being careful as we explore whatever this is between us.