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Chapter 24

twenty-four

. . .

Asher

The light whirr of the engines fills the cabin as the plane taxis down the runway. I lean back in my seat, my headphones around my neck and my phone in my hand, scrolling mindlessly through playlists as I wait for takeoff.

Across the aisle, Joe DeRollo leans forward, his elbows on his knees and a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. I can feel his eyes on me even before he speaks, his tone dripping with fake casualness.

“So,” he says, loud enough to cut through the chatter of the team. “How’s it feel to be the golden boy?”

I glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “Feels pretty good, Joe. Thanks for asking.”

His smirk widens, but there’s no humor in it. “Don’t get too comfortable. Everyone knows you’re just a placeholder.”

The jab lands, but not as hard as he wants it to. I’ve heard worse from him. I shrug, keeping my expression neutral. “Funny. I don’t feel like a placeholder.”

Joe leans back in his seat, crossing his arms as he stares me down. “You’re a phony, Knox. It’s only a matter of time before everyone figures that out.”

“Sure,” I say, sliding my headphones over my ears, pretending to settle in. “Whatever you say, man.”

But of course, he doesn’t stop.

“By the way,” he says, his tone sharpening, “who’s your new girl?”

That gets my attention, and I glance at him, my jaw tightening.

“What?”

“Your girl. You’re not as sneaky as you think, Knox. You’ve been distracted lately, and it’s not hard to figure out why.”

My first instinct is to shut him down, tell him he doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about. But I catch myself, forcing a small smirk instead.

“Jealous?” I ask, leaning back and folding my hands behind my head. “Don’t worry, Joe. I’m sure there’s someone out there for you.”

The muscle in his jaw ticks, and I can tell I’ve hit a nerve. He mutters something under his breath, but he doesn’t press further, and I let myself relax as the plane begins to ascend.

Once we’re at cruising altitude, I pull my phone out again, flipping to an incognito browser. My thoughts drift to Sloane, and an idea starts to form, a grin tugging at the corner of my mouth as I type in the name of a lingerie website.

Scrolling through the options, I imagine her reaction—how she’d blush, how she’d try to act annoyed but wouldn’t be able to hide that little smile. I settle on a delicate black lace set with a matching garter belt, classy but undeniably sexy, and add it to my cart.

The site asks for a note to include with the delivery, and I hesitate for a second before typing:

When I see you tonight. Wear this. No excuses. – A

I double-check the shipping address she gave me a few weeks ago and set it to arrive on Saturday afternoon, just in time for when I get back from the Texas trip.

As I hit “confirm,” a wave of satisfaction washes over me. It’s not just about the gift—it’s the anticipation, the way I know she’ll squirm when she opens it, the way she’ll look at me when I tell her exactly what I want her to do with it.

Joe might think I’m distracted, but the truth is, I’ve never been more focused.

The plane levels out, and I close my eyes, letting the noise of the engines lull me to sleep. My body sinks into the seat, relaxed as hell, and for the first time in weeks, I feel completely at ease.

The bus pulls into campus just after 11 p.m., the air buzzing with the lingering energy of our win. It had been a dogfight against one of the best teams in the league, but we pulled it off, and I’d played one of my best games yet.

“Hell of a night, Knox!” Ryan claps me on the shoulder as we grab our bags from the undercarriage of the bus. “Way to carry us, man.”

“Thanks,” I say, offering him a tired but genuine grin.

Teammates swarm around me, slapping my back, shouting my name, the usual post-game hype magnified by the fact that we just knocked off a top-ranked team. But through it all, my thoughts keep drifting to Sloane.

As we file toward the locker room, I pull out my phone to check my notifications, and there it is: a text from her.

Sloane: Just wanted to say congrats. Thought you’d like to see what I’m wearing to bed tonight.

Attached is a picture that stops me in my tracks.

She’s standing in her room, posed in the outfit I sent her—the delicate black lace leaving just enough to the imagination to make my pulse spike. Her hair’s loose around her shoulders, and the confident smirk on her face tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.

I’m so focused on the photo that I don’t notice Joe until he leans over my shoulder.

“Damn, who’s that?” he says, his voice dripping with mock curiosity.

I snap my phone shut, glaring at him. “None of your business.”

He smirks, his hands raised in mock surrender. “Relax, Knox. Just asking.”

I don’t bother replying, shoving past him as I head for my dorm. I’ve had enough of Joe for one night. All I want is to get back to my room and see Sloane.

By the time I get back to my room, I’m already typing out a text:

Me: Come over.

Her reply comes seconds later.

Sloane: Be there in ten.

When she knocks on the door, I open it to find her standing there in my baggy sweats and hoodie, her hair tied back, and a shy smile playing on her lips.

“Hey,” she says softly.

“Hey,” I reply, stepping aside to let her in.

She doesn’t say anything at first, just shrugs off the hoodie and lets the sweats slide down her legs.

My breath catches in my throat.

The lingerie looks even better in person—soft black lace hugging every curve, the garter straps trailing down her thighs, and that same confident smirk pulling at her lips.

“You like?” she asks, her voice teasing but her cheeks flushed.

I can’t even form words. My hands are on her in an instant, pulling her against me as my lips find hers.

“Sloane. You are so sexy. It’s insane,” I murmur against her mouth, my hands sliding down to grip her hips.

“Thank you,” she replies, her voice breathy as she presses closer. “I like getting a little dressed up for you.”

The rest of the night passes in a blur of heat and desperation, every touch, every sound, every movement leaving me more addicted to her than I already was.

When I wake up the next morning, the sunlight streaming through the blinds, the bed beside me is empty.

For a moment, panic flares in my chest, but then I see it—a note on the pillow.

Asher,

Had to head back before anyone noticed I was gone.

Thanks for last night. You’re…amazing.

– S

I smile, running a hand through my hair as I read it again.

Yeah, I’m in way deeper than I should be.

And I don’t care one bit.

But as the warmth of her words settles over me, something else stirs—a pull, a quiet yearning I can’t ignore. I want more with her. Not just the sneaking around, the stolen moments, or the thrill of keeping it a secret. I want all of it. I want her walking into my room without hesitation, sitting with me at lunch, coming to my games because she wants to, not because we’ve worked out some elaborate plan to avoid suspicion.

The thought catches me off guard, and for a second, it feels too big, too fast.

I exhale slowly, leaning back against the pillow as I remind myself to take it slow. Sloane’s different—special. The last thing I want is to scare her off or make her feel like this isn’t still on her terms.

So I’ll wait. I’ll let her set the pace, keep things “drama-free,” as she likes to call it.

But deep down, I already know the truth.

This isn’t just a fling anymore. Not for me.

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