Chapter 47 Desiree Dixon

Make a DIFFerence with Asher Nash

I flesh out some final ideas, and then I spend some time looking at places in Vegas. It’s a search I gave up a while ago, but I really do think it makes the most sense.

All the places I liked two months ago have sold, but a new crop of houses are on the market. I bookmark a few I like, and I figure I’ll visit soon to choose the place that’s the best fit for me.

Addy and I had a long talk about our living arrangements, and she’s going to move in with Chloe and Lauren. It’s the best-case scenario even though I don’t want to give up this apartment or my life here in San Diego.

I have to, though. I’m considering it the first of the many sacrifices I’ll make as a mother, just like my own mother has done for me. And to that end, I want to make sure this little muffin in my oven has every chance in the world to be around her grandparents.

And by grandparents, I mean my parents. Asher doesn’t talk very highly of his own father, and his mom is long-distance.

The thought pulses the ever-present fear about telling my parents about this. I love Asher, but we just got back together like twelve seconds ago. I need time to let this grow and develop before I’m ready to tell my dad, and I doubt Asher wants to make the admission mid-season when there’s so much on the line.

No, it’s better to let the season play out. That buys me a month or two, anyway, but by then, I’ll be showing, and it’s not like I really want to keep this a secret from my mom for that long.

I’ll tell them after Christmas. I’ll leave the father’s name out of it for now, and we’ll keep seeing each other in secret so we can figure out whether there’s really a future for us or if he’s sticking around because of the baby.

Though if fate put me in that chair beside him at the charity ball, then I think fate also put him in my apartment the same day I found out I was pregnant.

Fate keeps stepping in to push us together, and maybe I’m starting to believe in the cheesiness of it all a little.

By the time he arrives back at my place on Tuesday afternoon, he’s carrying a duffel bag of new clothes and toiletries he must’ve picked up in Arizona, and I have the proposal ready to present to him. I give him a quick kiss when I open the door to greet him, and then I pull him in.

“How did it go?” I ask a little tentatively.

“It was good. Or as good as it could be given the circumstances.” He shrugs.

“What’s the next step?” I study him as I try to find some clue as to how he’s feeling about it, but he’s a little guarded.

“I mean, it's not like they're going to change their last names and their entire lives to be part of the Nash family, but at the same time, I can almost see it happening down the road. For as much as my dad fell from grace, there's a history and a legacy with our last name, and I can't imagine they wouldn't want to be a part of that.”

“Who would've thought, two more Nash Brothers for the ladies to watch out for?” I tease.

He chuckles. “We didn't get into that kind of talk, but since they’re the same age as me and I'm the one who found out about our relationship, I think I can see myself forming a bond with them. Especially after the mentorship program I've been working on with Coach Dix…uh—your dad.” He gets a little awkward at the end, something that’s very unlike him.

“I knew you were working on a project with him. You two have gotten close, haven't you?” I ask.

He sighs. “Yeah, we have. And it throws more than a wrench into what we have, but to me, it’s worth whatever price I have to pay. But I need to know before we take this any further whether it's worth it to you, too.”

My brows pull together. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if your dad doesn’t approve? What if he writes me off, or he writes you off? Is that something you can handle?” he asks.

I’m surprised by his question since he seemed to be all for telling my dad yesterday. I didn’t consider the thought that my dad might be mad at me for going after a football player when he expressly told me not to. I guess I mainly pushed the whole idea out of my head, thinking we had plenty of time down the road to worry about it.

And we do, but the time is getting shorter and shorter by the day.

I want him to be with me through the pregnancy, but I also want to wait until the season is over. We can do both…right?

We were planning to see each other in secret anyway. We can figure out a way to make it work.

“I, uh…I don’t know,” I answer honestly, and then I shift the subject. “I have something for you.”

I spent most of the day today working on this project, and I’m excited to share it with him. It was exactly the distraction I needed, and I realize only now that I haven’t felt nauseous at all today.

I’m bouncing up and down on the balls of my feet as I hand him the paperwork I finished about an hour ago.

His brows crinkle together. “What’s all this?”

“The proposal for your foundation.” There’s a bit of tentativeness in my tone, along with a bit of pride.

He reads aloud from the paperwork.

“The mission of Make a DIFFerence with Asher Nash is to inspire adolescents to make healthy life choices by educating them on the dangers of drug use and honoring the memory of Jacob Fitzgerald, who tragically lost his life at the age of seventeen to drugs.”

He glances up at me, and I see the emotion in his eyes as he looks back down at the paper to continue reading.

“Make a DIFFerence will host an annual 5K run in which all participants will declare who they’re running for. Asher is Doing It For Fitz, or DIFF. Who are you doing it for? The event will end with a fun zone full of activities and games focused on healthy choices, vendors who will educate and inform, local food vendors, live music, and an awards ceremony for the top runners and contributors. Fundraising will come in the form of registration fees, donations, sponsorships, and merchandise sales. The funds raised will support the Make a DIFFerence with Asher Nash Foundation to award scholarships to students either affected by or pursuing careers in addiction treatment and prevention. The DIFF5K will promote awareness, education, community, and support in the fight against drugs.”

He stops reading and sets the paper down on the table, and he’s silent as he looks out the window over the view of the ocean that I’m already starting to miss even though I haven’t left it yet.

“Say something,” I whisper.

He closes his eyes and shakes his head a little, and they’re a little foggy when he opens them. He keeps his attention trained out the window. “You couldn’t have known this, but Fitz was a runner. He loved running, and he was always begging me to participate in every 5K, 10K, and marathon that came to town. He was adventurous. He made me go rock climbing with him, whitewater rafting, biking, hiking, you name it. But running was his passion.” His eyes move toward me, and he sets his hand on top of the papers with my proposal. “This is perfect, Des. It’s incredible, and I couldn’t have even tried to put into words what you created here.”

My eyes fill with tears at his earnest approval. “Yeah?” I ask softly.

He nods, and he blinks a little as he takes a step toward me. He reaches around my waist and hauls me into him. “Yeah.” He lowers his lips to mine. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice raspy and deep, and I sink into him as he kisses me softly in the kitchen.

Our kiss turns a little more passionate, a little more urgent. It’s bonding us again in a way that’s stronger than we were before, all through the simple task of doing a job I told him I would do for him.

But there’s a depth to this kiss that’s new and different. It’s as if this kiss is a physical manifestation of the love he feels for me, and it’s on some level beyond hot. It’s an inferno as we reconnect in this way after way too long apart.

There’s no hesitation from either of us even though I felt a little hesitant yesterday.

I’ve had time to sit with his words. I’ve had time to feel the love he has for me. He checked in when he didn’t have to. He’s back already. He’s tending to my needs—and he was even before he found out I’m carrying his baby. He came all the way to San Diego on his week off just to buy me soup when he heard I wasn’t feeling well.

If that doesn’t scream that he’s really in this with me, I’m not sure what else would convince me.

He lifts me up into his arms, and he doesn’t stop kissing me as he carries me through my apartment and toward my bedroom. The papers are abandoned on the table, but we’ll get back to them.

For now, though, we have some making up for lost time to do.

He gently sets me down on the bed, and he climbs so he’s hovering over me, careful not to press his body weight onto me.

He kisses me like that for a while, and I feel the passion in him—a new fire ignited because there’s a bond growing inside me that will forever tie us together. As I told him, a baby won’t solve our problems. We’ll field complications, and we’ll have differing ideas, and it won’t be easy. But if we’re holding hands through it and communicating instead of running scared, then I think there might be a chance for us.

He shifts to move in beside me, and he pulls back from our kiss. He sets his hand on my stomach, and then his eyes meet mine.

“Is this okay?” he asks quietly.

I shrug. “I think so, but I’ve never been pregnant before, so I have no idea.”

“I do remember Lincoln saying pregnancy sex is the best sex, so I think we’re safe there. I just meant are you okay with doing this, or do you need more time? Do you feel okay, or do you still feel sick?”

My eyes soften as my chest bursts with love for this man. It’s the sweetest sentiment I could possibly imagine in the moment when surely he’s ready for this reunion as much as I am.

“Oh, yeah. I’m definitely okay for sex, cowboy,” I say.

“Cowboy?” he repeats, and I giggle as I think back to our first night together when I called him that.

“If you’d like, I can ride you like a cowgirl,” I suggest.

“Now that is a deal I will definitely take you up on.”

“And Asher?” I ask, and his heated eyes move to mine as the corner of my mouth tips up in a wicked smile. “There’s no need to be gentle.”

He smirks at me but then races to peel my shirt off and then my bra, and he does all the work as he strips me out of my sweatpants and panties, too. I’m lying naked on the bed, and he spends some time worshipping my body, sucking my tits between his lips as I writhe and moan beneath him at his touch, his mouth, his heat. He peppers kisses from the middle of my chest to my neck and back down. He moves past my tits on his quest down my body, and he leaves a trail of kisses on my stomach and to my pubic bone before he sinks lower, getting off the bed and kneeling on the floor as he adjusts my legs over his shoulders.

And then he dives right in.

I thread my fingers into his hair as he works to alleviate the ache that I’ve felt for him since he left me. All the vibrators in the world are no comparison for this man’s talented mouth. He licks my clit as he slides one of his glorious fingers into my pussy, and I clutch the sheets as my hips start to move in time with his mouth. He reaches up with one arm to tweak my nipple between his thumb and forefinger just as he slides in a second finger, and it’s all the best sensations crashing into each other at one time.

It’s too much for my body that hasn’t had a workout like this in months, and I claw at my sheets as my climax plows into me. He keeps pace with me despite my thrashing as my legs clamp around his ears and I ride out pulse after pulse of sweet, hot pleasure.

As my body starts to come down, he pulls his fingers out but kisses my clit a few more times, and then he rocks back onto his knees and stares up at me.

“Fuck, Des, I’m never going two months without tasting this sweet cunt again.”

I raise my brows pointedly—or I try to, anyway, but I’m a little hazy after that orgasm, so I probably look like a clown. “You better not,” I warn.

He chuckles, and then he pushes to a stand and starts to take off his clothes. He lays on the bed beside me, and he glances over at me as he motions for me to hop on. “I believe you mentioned cowgirl?”

I laugh as I revel in the fact that somehow he can turn this erotic moment light and fun. It’s one of his many charms.

“I said that before you wrecked me with that orgasm.” I turn into his side and toss an arm over his abdomen.

“Close, but a little lower,” he teases, pushing my arm down toward his cock.

“Someone’s getting a little desperate.”

“It’s been two months, Des. All I’ve thought about is you.”

I sit up and move to straddle him. “Who am I to deny you a second longer?”

He fists his cock as I move into place, and I align myself with his body. He pushes into me, and I set my hands on his chest for balance. He groans as I sit all the way down on him, and I pull upward and shift my hips as I start to ride him.

God, he feels good. He looks good as he takes in the pleasure, his eyes heated as he stares at me with heavy lids. Sex with him was always incredible, but there’s something different about this time, and I know exactly what it is.

It’s the L word.

It lays heavily between us, spoken by one and not the other, and though I feel it, I’m scared to say it. But as I move over him and our bodies reconnect in the language they know best, I know without a doubt that I feel it too.

I didn’t start to feel better until he showed up to take care of me.

I was dragging through my daily tasks, forcing myself to get out of bed each morning.

I thought I could chalk it up to just being sick and exhausted, but the truth is, I think it was something much darker than that.

I was missing the piece of myself that he holds in his hands, and as our bodies rock together in pure, carnal pleasure, I feel like I have that piece of myself back again. It’s not just the sex or just the pleasure, but it’s the feeling like I’m connected to this man in a way that I’ve never felt connected to anyone before. He’s my life, and he’s my future, and now that we’re back where we belong, it feels like my world has shifted back to the way it was always meant to be.

He growls as he starts to come, and the feeling of his heat spreading inside me is too much for me to bear. I slide right into my second orgasm, something only he has ever been able to gift me, and we moan together through the intense release.

It’s only when I climb off him and slide into the place in his arms where I’m most comfortable that he says, “That was one hell of an early birthday present.”

“It’s your birthday?”

He nods. “Tomorrow is.”

“And you’re turning twenty-nine?” I ask.

He nods.

“And at what age can I trade you in for a younger model?”

He chuckles. “You don't have that option. Sorry.” He shrugs playfully.

“That's good because I don't want it, and for the record, you don't get it once I hit my next decade, either.”

“Deal,” he says, holding out his hand so we can shake on it. I don’t know if I’ve ever made a deal while still naked and totally wrung out from what a man just did to my body, but here we are. “What are your birthday plans?” I ask sleepily.

“Well, I’m supposed to be at practice, but I’m calling in sick. I canceled my original plan to go out to dinner with my dad when I found out he fathered my twin half-brothers. I went to meet them, and then I decided life’s too short to fuck around, so I’m back here to spend my birthday with you.”

I yawn and close my eyes as I lean into him. “I didn’t get you anything.”

He sets his hand on my stomach, and he leans down and kisses the top of my head. “That’s okay. I have everything I’ll ever need right here.”

A wave of love crests through my chest at his words. I wish we could stop time and live in this moment a little longer. I know it won’t always be as perfect as this feels, but there’s an awful lot we need to figure out as we plow ahead into the future.