Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

HOLLY

T he following day, Asher drives us toward work, toward the park, toward Derek.

I’ve done my best to be more distant with Asher since last night. Time and time again, we try to be disciplined, but something, be it fate or desire, keeps shaking us up.

In the kitchen this morning, even though Dan didn’t come home, I treated Asher like I would if my brother was in the room with us. Asher does the same: small talk, no hugs, no kisses, no meaningful looks.

“What time did he say to meet him?”

“Eight,” I say. “What are you going to do?”

“Hang around nearby, wait for him to waltz over, get the phone. Maybe wring his neck.”

“Asher,” I snap.

“I know, I know.” He rolls his eyes, trying to make light of it, but can’t hide his fury. “It just makes me sick, Snow—” He swallows my nickname. “He’s a pervert. Losing his job is the least he deserves.”

“He might not even lose his job. Once I get his phone, I’ll have to ditch it and mine. There will be no evidence of him doing anything wrong.”

“Record him on your cell phone,” Asher says. “He’ll incriminate himself for sure.”

“Do you think that’s … ethical?”

Asher glances at me, a smirk making his lip twitch. “You definitely are Miss Goody Two-shoes, aren’t you?” Instead of being good, he’s swapped one nickname for the other. “ Either you record him and get something that ensures his ass is grass, or I put him in the fucking grass. Trying to get a naked photo of my woman …”

“I’m not your woman, Asher,” I say weakly.

“A slip of the tongue,” he grunts.

Telling him I’m not his feels wrong, but it’s necessary.

“I’ll let you out here,” he says, pulling up outside the park. “Then I’ll circle around and be nearby. Don’t forget to record.”

I leave the car, my legs feeling like Jell-O. I’ve gone from Christmas elf to reluctant character in a freaking spy thriller. I wait near the tree, my cell phone clutched in my hand.

My blood turns cold when Derek appears with a sick grin on his face. His eyes are red like he’s been up all night. “Where is it, then? Where are the goods?”

“The goods?”

“Oh, so we’re going to play games, are we? Show me the naked photo, Holly.”

“You’re asking for a naked photo of me when I’ve told you over and over I’m not interested?”

“I’m not asking anything. I’m demanding. Unless you want me to set your world on fire? And not in the way I would have if you’d had the common sense and decency to open your eyes to the gift that was staring you in the face, which was me.”

“You’re the gift,” I say, shaking my head. “A man who has harassed me for months. Someone who’s blackmailing me for a naked picture.”

“I’d call it incentivizing, not blackmailing.” He takes a step forward. “Seriously, slut …”

My eyes widen when I spot Asher barreling toward us. Derek turns just in time for Asher to grab him by the front of his shirt.

“Go on, Derek,” Asher growls, wild and rage-filled. “Touch her. Touch my Snowflake. Lay one fucking hand on her. Touch my woman. I dare you to do it. I dare you to even think about doing it.”

Derek mumbles something.

“What?” Asher yells, shaking him.

People stop and glance over.

“Asher,” I hiss. “You’re making a scene.”

He looks at me. “I don’t give a damn. This motherfucker thinks he can bully you, blackmail you? Nobody has that right. Nobody .”

“P-please,” Derek stutters.

“Asher,” I whisper as if that will make this spectacle less obvious.

I like that he’s standing up for me. I’ve dealt with Derek’s crap alone for so long; it’s a relief to have somebody stand between us. But not here, not like this. Can I deny having a knight in shining armor is nice, though? Heck no.

Asher lets him go. “Cell phone. Now.”

Derek reaches into his pocket and hands the phone to Asher.

“I was just kidding,” Derek says, laughing weakly.

“Just kidding,” Asher repeats, putting the phone in his pocket. “So if Holly had arrived today with a Polaroid, you sick bastard, and shown it to you, you would’ve told her you didn’t want to see it? You would’ve told her it was all a big joke, hmm? I should knock your head off.”

“I’ll just go, okay?” Derek squeaks.

Asher steps forward, towering over him. The difference between the two men—size, demeanor, everything—couldn’t be more apparent. “Not until you apologize, you won’t.”

“Asher, it’s fine,” I whisper.

“No, it’s not,” he snarled. “He’s not leaving until he gives you the bare minimum of an apology. Now, Derek.”

He shudders, turning to me, fear painted across his face. At least nobody’s watching us now that Asher has let him go. “I’m sorry,” Derek says. “I shouldn’t have done this.”

“Just get lost, Derek.”

He hurries away, but then, once he’s out of Asher’s reach, he calls over, “You two are fucked . I recorded that whole thing. How do you think the boss would feel about you calling his baby sister your woman, huh, tough guy? Stop! If you take one step, I’ll send it to him!”

I touch Asher’s arm. He’s burning with rage.

Taking out my cell, I snap, “Ditto, asshole. How’d you think he’d feel about you admitting to blackmailing an employee for naked photos?”

“Fuck,” Derek hisses.

“You bastard,” Asher yells, trembling.

“I guess this is what they call a Mexican standoff, huh?” I shout.

Derek jogs away, probably knowing that Asher is on the verge of completely losing his patience. Asher clenches his fists. I take my hand from his arm, knowing that people from the office might see or might’ve seen the whole thing.

“Now what?” I ask.

Asher bites down. “We need to tell Dan.”

“No, Asher.”

“We have to get ahead of this. If Dan is going to find out, it can’t be like this.”

I think for a moment. “Derek won’t do anything. He knows it’ll be terrible for him, too. He won't risk that.”

“How sure are we about that?” Asher retorts. “I can’t have my best friend find out like this . Not only will we have betrayed him, we will have done it twice. Dan will appreciate it if we go to him with the truth upfront.”

“We’re not telling him,” I persist. “We’ll have to meet with Derek and delete the videos.”

“So he can just get away with what he did?”

“Telling Dan isn’t just your choice to make,” I hiss. “Don’t touch me, Asher.”

He lowers his hand, looking hurt. I meant don’t touch me, as in, people might see, and it’s too risky. It comes out sounding like the very idea of him laying a hand on me is repulsive on some fundamental level, as if I’m sickened by the concept of contact with my best friend’s brother.

I should be, but that’s never been the case.

“It’s time to shatter this fantasy,” he growls. “Don’t make me do this without your blessing.”

“I’d never forgive you if you did that,” I tell him. “You need to let me try to get Derek to back down. I should’ve guessed he’d try something like this.”

“None of this is your fault,” Asher says. “It’s mine. I should’ve known better.”

“Don’t say that. I’m not some na?ve kid.”

“You’re a girl with a crush,” he says. “I’m older, more mature, experienced. I should’ve known better. I mean, hell, you’re a virgin .”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I demand.

“It’s just an indicator of how much less experienced you are than me. I should’ve been mature from the beginning, but I made the mistake of not doing that. Now, I need to make a mature decision.”

I almost slam my hand against his chest. It’s only being in public that stops me. Only? Am I sure it doesn’t have something to do with how tempting he is, even now?

“Don’t tell Dan,” I plead. “Derek has tried to add me on socials several times. I’ll message him on there and ask to meet. We’ll both agree to delete the recordings. There’s a way out of this without ruining my brother’s life.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

“You can. You have to.”

Asher walks away. I almost scream at him. Suddenly, all the Christmas lights and the wintery atmosphere are out of my place.

I take out my phone and text him.

Me: I mean it, Asher. Don’t do it. You can’t do it without my permission. I meant what I said. I’ll never forgive you.

A minute later, he texts back.

Asher: Maybe you hating me is what we need. If you hate me, the temptation stops, the confusion stops. We won’t have to fight this battle constantly. Resisting each other won’t be an issue, not anymore.

Me: You’ll ruin my relationship with my brother. Can you live with that on your conscience?

Asher: It’ll be worse if he finds out from somebody else. Hate me if you need to.

Me: Give me a day , I reply. Let me try to fix this. Please.

Asher doesn’t text back.

There’s a flaw in his plan. He’s telling me to hate him, but I could never do that.

I navigate to my social media app and message Derek.

Me: We’re in a lose-lose situation. We both have leverage now. We need to be smart about this.

Derek: So NOW you’re good enough to message me back.

Me: Derek, think about this. Please.

Derek: I like it when you beg, but okay, I’ll have a little think.

Me: You don’t want to lose your job, do you?

Derek: That would be rather inconvenient. I’ll let you stew for a while.

Me: Message me back by the end of the day.

Derek: So demanding …

Me: I mean it!

He doesn’t reply. I’m ghosted by the man I hate and the man I … don’t hate, could never hate.

The man I love .

That’s the phrase that was going to complete that thought. I stop myself from going over that edge. I can’t let my mind go there.