Chapter 8

eight

. . .

Asher

I spot her the second I turn the corner. She’s standing on the curb, arms wrapped around herself like the night air’s colder than it is. Her hair’s loose, catching the faint glow of the streetlights, and she’s wearing that oversized jacket she likes—a little too big, like she’s hiding in it.

My grip on the steering wheel tightens. I shouldn’t be here. She said she needed space, and I told myself I’d respect that. But the second her text came through, all that resolve flew out the window. Space? Hell, I’ve been giving her space for a week, and it’s been killing me.

I slow the truck as I approach, lowering the window. “You ready?”

She turns toward me, and just like that, I’m done for. That little smile, half shy, half unsure—it’s like she doesn’t realize what it does to me.

“Yeah,” she says, climbing into the passenger seat. The truck dips slightly with her weight, and the scent of her shampoo—something faintly floral—fills the cab.

I wait until she’s buckled before pulling back onto the road. “Where to?” I ask, even though I already know.

“You said distractions were your specialty,” she replies, leaning back into the seat. “Surprise me.”

We drive in silence for a while, the city lights fading into darkness as I take the backroads out to the country. I glance at her now and then. She’s biting her lip like she wants to say something but can’t quite get there.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

Her fingers stop tracing patterns on her knee, and she glances over at me. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“What, the drive?” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.

“No.” She shakes her head. “Us.”

My chest tightens. “Why not?”

“You’re not the backup anymore, Asher,” she says, looking out the window. “You’re the starting quarterback. Everyone on campus is going to be watching you—watching us. And I don’t think I can handle being part of the gossip mill again.”

“When did you start caring so much about what other people think?” I ask, my tone softer than I intended.

She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “It’s not that simple. I’ve been that girl before, and it’s exhausting.”

I don’t push her, letting the quiet stretch between us until she speaks again.

“I spent last weekend at my grandmother’s,” she says. “She made her pea soup. You’d hate it.”

“Why? What’s in it?”

“Peas,” she says dryly, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “And love. And a lot of lecturing about how I should follow my heart.”

“She’s a smart lady,” I say. “Also, did you know I hate peas?”

“She is,” she agrees, giggling ever so slightly. Her voice is quieter now, almost wistful.

Finally, we reach the spot I had in mind—a little clearing just off a dirt road, surrounded by open fields. I park the truck and cut the engine. The sudden quiet envelopes us like a blanket.

“Come on,” I say, grabbing a blanket from the backseat.

She follows me, her boots crunching softly on the grass. I spread the blanket on the truck bed and hop up, patting the spot beside me. She hesitates for a second before climbing up, settling in with a soft sigh.

Above us, the sky is endless and alive with stars.

“Wow,” she breathes, tilting her head back. “You can’t see this in the city.”

“Nope,” I say, leaning back on my elbows. “Figured you might need a reminder that there’s more to life than traffic and bad fluorescent lighting.”

She laughs softly, and the sound hits me like a punch to the gut—in a good way.

“Okay,” I say, turning toward her. “What’s your dream? If the world was like one of those Sears order catalogs, what would you pick?”

Her eyebrows lift, and she glances at me with surprise. “You’re asking me?”

“Yeah. I want to know.”

She hesitates, her fingers playing with the hem of her sleeve. “I’ve always wanted to go to grad school,” she says finally. “Maybe live somewhere international for a while. I’m an Econ major, so there’s so much I could do, but I’ve been too scared to say it out loud, like if I admit it, it won’t come true.”

I nod, letting her words settle between us. “That’s not a bad dream.”

She shrugs, looking at me. “What about you?”

I think for a moment. “I want to build something that lasts. A legacy. Doesn’t have to be flashy, but I want to know I left something behind that matters. I don’t know what that is for me. A family someday, maybe. I’m pretty young to think about all that, though.”

She studies me, her gaze soft. “That’s a good dream, Asher.”

“So is yours,” I say. “And you’re closer than you think.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re already brave enough to know what you want,” I say, holding her gaze. “That’s more than most people can say.”

Her expression shifts, a mix of surprise and something else—something that makes me feel like maybe I’m the distraction she needed after all.

We sit in the quiet for a while, the stars overhead keeping us company. I grab a bottle of wine from the small cooler in the back and pour us each a cup. She takes hers, wrapping both hands around it like it’s her anchor.

“You came prepared,” she says, her lips quirking up in a half-smile.

“Distractions are my specialty, remember?”

She rolls her eyes but takes a sip, her shoulders relaxing just a little. I watch her as she stares up at the sky, her lips glistening faintly from the wine.

“This is nice,” she says after a moment. “No noise, no pressure…just this.”

I nod, taking a sip of my own. “Sometimes you gotta leave the world behind for a bit to remember who you are.”

Her gaze flicks to me, something thoughtful in her expression. “You always do that? Take people out here to ‘find themselves’?”

“Nah,” I say, shaking my head. “Just you.”

The words come out before I can stop them, and her cheeks flush in the dim light. She looks down at her cup, then back up at the stars.

We sip in silence for a while, the wine loosening the edges of her tension. Her fingers brush the rim of the cup as she speaks. “You’re not what I expected,” she says quietly.

“Good or bad?”

She laughs softly. “Good, I think.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You think?”

She smirks, then shakes her head. “You’re complicated. Annoyingly thoughtful when I’m trying to be mad at you.”

I grin. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Don’t apologize,” she says, her voice quieter now. Her gaze meets mine, and there’s something in it—hesitation, curiosity, and a flicker of something bolder.

She sets her cup down in the truck bed and turns to me. For a second, I think she’s about to say something, but then she leans in, her eyes locked on mine.

Time slows as the space between us disappears. Her lips brush mine, soft and tentative at first, like she’s testing the waters. I freeze for half a second, stunned, before leaning in, deepening the kiss.

Her hand finds my jaw, her touch warm and steady, and I feel the weight of every second I’ve spent waiting for this moment. Her lips are warm, tasting faintly of wine and something uniquely her.

When she finally pulls back, her cheeks are flushed, and she looks at me like she’s as surprised as I am.

“I—uh—” she starts, but I cut her off with a soft smile.

“Don’t overthink it,” I say, my voice low. “Unless you regret it.”

She shakes her head quickly, her lips curving into a shy smile. “No regrets.”

“Good,” I murmur, leaning back against the truck, my chest still buzzing from the kiss. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

She looks at me for a long moment before settling beside me again, her head resting lightly on my shoulder. The stars overhead blur a little as I focus on the feel of her beside me, her warmth seeping into the cold night air.

And for the first time all week, the tight knot in my chest finally loosens.

“You taste like wine,” I grin.

“So do you. Maybe you were just tasting yourself.”

I laugh. “Is that supposed to be…a dirty joke?”

Her lips twitch into a sly smile. “I don’t know. Did it work?”

“Depends,” I say, tilting my head. “I mean, I guess we’ll find out soon.”

“So are you trying to impress me with your sparkling wit or your impeccable taste in cheap wine?” She jokes.

I gasp in mock offense, nudging me with her elbow. “Hey, I brought the good stuff!”

“Good stuff, huh?” She holds up the cup and takes a dramatic sip, smacking her lips. “Vintage 2024, notes of…boxed grapes and desperation?”

“Not boxed,” I joke. “Maybe I should have gotten boxed.”

She swats at me, laughing. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, you kissed me,” I say, my grin widening.

“Temporary lapse in judgment,” she says, trying to sound casual, but the way her cheeks flush gives her away.

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it?” I tease, leaning just a little closer. “Because I was about to suggest we make it a regular thing.”

Her gaze flicks to mine, her smile softening. “You don’t let up, do you?”

“Only when it comes to you,” I say, my voice lowering slightly.

Her expression shifts, and for a moment, the teasing falls away. She looks at me like she’s trying to decide if this is real, if we’re real. Then she shakes her head, her grin returning.

“You’re smooth, Asher,” she says, taking another sip of wine.

I shrug. “You bring it out of me.”

She laughs again, and the sound reverberates through me like a favorite song.

“Okay, hotshot,” she says, setting her cup down and leaning back against the truck. “If you’re so smooth, what’s your plan to keep impressing me?”

I smirk, lying back beside her and pointing to the sky. “You see that star right there?”

She squints, following my finger. “Which one?”

“The brightest one,” I say. “That’s my backup plan. If all else fails, I’m naming it after you.”

She snorts, rolling her eyes. “You can’t name a star after me. That’s not how it works.”

“Sure it is,” I reply, turning to look at her. “All I have to do is say it: That one? Officially yours now. Sloane’s star.”

Her laugh is softer this time, and she looks at me like I’ve somehow surprised her again. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, here you are,” I say, holding her gaze.

She doesn’t respond right away, but the way her lips curve into a small, genuine smile says more than words ever could.

“Maybe I like ridiculous,” she says softly, and just like that, I know I’m in way deeper than I ever planned to be.

“So where are you playing tomorrow? It’s an away game, right?”

“Denver. We’re taking a bus at five a.m. tomorrow.”

“Pretty late for you to be staying out then if you’re playing, isn’t it?”

I crack a smile. “I know. Being the back up was so much more fun. But staying up late last week didn’t seem to hurt. My mind felt pretty clear the next day after spending the night with you. Well, not the whole night since you’re not into the whole ‘staying over’ thing.”

She laughs. “I have issues. That’s true.”

I slide my hand onto her thigh, under her dress. “So…it’s getting pretty late.”

Her breath increases, and I find myself playing the ‘how slowly can I slide my hand toward her inner thigh’ game.

Turning toward her, I cup her cheek. “Can I kiss you?”

She flashes a goofy smile. “Why are you being so hesitant?”

“I just…I don’t know what you want from me. I mean, if I really was just a…temporary lapse in judgment.”

Sloane wraps a hand around my forearm. “I just want to enjoy the night with you. And yes. You can certainly kiss me. Anything else you had in mind?”

I press my wine-soaked lips against hers. I love the way she tastes. I love how her body writhes beneath my touch. And I want to do everything with her.

I press my hand to her stomach, and her body responds.

“Mmmm,” she groans. “Lower.”

I bite my lower lip and stare into her eyes as I reach lower, past her belly button, dipping a hand over her panties and running my fingers between her legs.

“Like this?”

“Yes. God yes.”

“More?”

“More? Yes. More.”

“Okay. If you want me to stop, I need you to just tell me. Okay?”

She nods.

“I need an affirmative, Sloane.”

She giggles. “Such a nerd. Yes, Mr. Knox. I feel very safe with you in case you haven’t noticed.”

“That’s my girl.” I slide my hand under her panties and start to rub her clit while I kiss her neck. “Mr. Knox. I like that.”

Her moans get louder under the stars, communicating to me that I’m doing alright. I love feeling the way that her body responds to my touch.

I run my other hand up her side, up to her pert tits, and this illicits another moan.

“Oh God yes. Asher. Fuck.”

“Let’s get these out,” I groan.

“Are you telling me to take off my dress, Mr. Knox?” She plays, her eyes hooded over with pleasure.

“Are you a mind reader? Because that’s exactly what I was thinking. But I think we could take off more than that.”

“If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

I help her take her jacket off first, then her dress, and her boots, so she’s just in her bra and panties.

I take off my flannel, then reposition myself so I’m kneeling between her legs. She runs a hand down the ridges of my abs.

“Mr. Knox. I like this view.”

Reaching behind her back, she unsnaps her bra, then tosses it aside. Leaning against the back of the truck, she watches my eyes.

“What do you think?”

“I think they’re fucking perfect,” I grit out, feeling my cock press against my jeans. “I think you’re damn gorgeous.”

I crawl on top of her, pulling her tight, and kiss her again, letting my torso press against her naked upper body, but being careful not to put too much weight on her.

“Sloane. I want to taste you,” I whisper. “I’ve been dying to taste you all week.”

“I want you to, too. God do I want you to.”

Stilling my body over hers with my hands propped on either side of her, I trail kisses from her neck, pausing at her tits for some light tongue flicking, I slide my mouth down her stomach until I’m kneeling between her legs with my mouth inches from her pussy.

Making eye contact with her, I slide her panties off slowly, enjoying every second of this.

Then, with reckless abandon, I dive down between her legs to tongue her slit.

Her moans spur me on, that sweet, soft sultry voice of hers under the stars, out here in the middle of nowhere, on a blanket, with me making her feel that way.

Fuck yes.

I run my tongue up and down, savoring her taste, until I land on her clit.

Positioning my body on my stomach, I eat her pussy like I’m a starving man.

“Holy fuck,” she moans. “I didn’t know…it could feel this good.”

“Mmmm,” I grunt, loving the way she arches up and in to me, helping me find a rhythm.

She takes a fistful of my hair and fucks my face, rubbing herself against my tongue. I’m so turned on, my cock is painstakingly pressed against the denim of my jeans now. But really, I don’t mind. Because this is about Sloane. She was so giving the other night and left before I could repay the favor.

I left up my chin for a split second, to catch a breath, and she looks down at me, as if to say, are you done?

“Not done, baby. Just catching a breath.”

“I’m so close,” she mutters.

I smile as I dive back into her, and this time I slip a couple of fingers into her.

Her moans get louder, and her legs start to shake. It’s not really nervousness that I’m feeling. It’s more. I don’t want to be some guy to her. I need to be the best she’s ever had. I need to make her forget all about her shitty ex.

I need to make her cum.

I drive my fingers up and into her, curling them into her G-spot, and that undoes her. She’s got her hands on her face, covering her mouth? So funny--who is going to see us out here?—but it makes me smile a little more.

I want to fuck her so bad. I want to spread this tight little pussy apart with my cock—but if she wants to move slow and this is all she’ll give me I’ll take the scraps. I’ll make it unforgettable.

“Scream, baby,” I mutter, reaching my free hand up to take it off of her mouth. “No one can hear you out here. No one except for me. And I want you to be loud.”

When I bring my mouth back between her legs, she erupts. I feel her gushing, and I don’t stop. Her torso shakes and she moans.

“I’m coming, baby. I’m coming. Oh God am I coming.”

When she’s done she pulls me up by the hair, gently. I bring myself to my knees, and stare at her gorgeous naked body under the starlight, sure that this is a moment that will be etched on my soul forever.

We don’t exchange words, just let our eyes dance together.

Finally, she opens up her arms. “Come here,” she says, and I do. I reposition my body so I’m on her side, and she slides onto her side and rests her naked body on top of mine.

“That was incredible,” she pants. “Geezus. How did you do that?”

I grin, doing my best to play it off like I wasn’t nervous as hell that she was having the best time of her life.

“I don’t know, but I definitely want to do it again.”

“Right now?! I can’t again. I think I need to drink about a gallon of water.”

“How about some wine?” I say, reaching behind me, and sitting up to refill her glass.

“That’ll work.”