Page 25

CHAPTER 25

MARCUS

The moments after we come down from our high are the hardest. I feel conflicted, yet sated. It feels right, but the post-nut clarity has me remembering just how wrong this is. How it'll never work.

Once we're cleaned off and back in my room, I give Ashton a pair of my sweatpants to wear. He looks strange in my clothes. It's like the off-brand rags know they don't belong and fit oddly on his body. Of course, part of that could be that he's nine inches taller than I am. But the piling on the fabric is more apparent than ever, and I'm feeling a little embarrassed about it. I'd handed him my most comfortable pair on instinct, forgetting how ratty they are.

"I hope that's okay," I say, rubbing my hand along the back of my neck.

"They're really soft."

"They’re my favorite pair," I admit. "That's why they're so worn in." The pair I slide on isn't much better, but neither of us points it out.

We stare at each other in silence for a few tense moments, my small room feeling like a shoebox at the moment. "Maybe we should do this at your place. It's a bit cramped in here…"

Ashton hooks me around the waist as I try to make my way to the door and pulls me into him. "I don't mind being cramped. Now, are you going to tell me about whatever it is that's got you broodier than usual?"

"I'm not broody." He gives me a raised eyebrow. "You and my cousin Sean are not allowed in the same room with each other. Ever."

He laughs. "If you say so. Now, quit deflecting," he says as he takes a seat at the edge of my bed and pulls my hips so I'm standing between his knees. It's intimate, and I'm not sure what to make of it. Yeah, we've been fucking around here and there, but since when are we so casually touchy? "What's up?"

I swallow deeply and take a breath. It’s not the deep, soothing breath I need, though. I don't want him to know how nervous I am to talk to him about this. Why I'm so nervous, I have no idea. It's not like this was going anywhere. It couldn't. Even before I found my dad's files, it wouldn't have worked. We're too different. And our families would never accept us being together. I shouldn't even be considering it.

If I show him what I found, is he going to get defensive and pull away, or try to defend his family? Would he suddenly allow his dad to get me kicked off the team? He has the ammo he needs. All he has to do is mention that I punched him, and it would be all over for me. He has all the power here, as he does in every situation. It's one reason I take control the times we've fucked around, because as much as my body wants him, I won't be vulnerable again. I won't be caught off guard again.

"I found something in my dad's old files. And I think I figured out why our parents hate each other."

Ashton is quiet. Too quiet.

He's been staring at the pages of pictures and files I handed him, shuffling through them over and over again like he might be missing something. Some of the photos turned out darker in the copies, but they're all clear enough. I left the originals at the house for safe-keeping and helped myself to Greg's office to make copies. I made a copy for Ashton for if or when I decided to show him. I've been struggling with if I should show him, whether or not it could make things worse. There’s a small part of me that also wants to follow up on some of this, to find out the truth, like I could avenge my father by proving he wasn't wrong. What would I even do with that information? I'd want vindication, but I also want nothing to do with the outcome, which would surely be a media frenzy. That's not the kind of publicity I want or need.

After I've given him a long enough time to absorb the contents of the folder, and he's just staring at the pictures again, I finally speak.

"Did you know they were stepbrothers?"

"What? Where does it say that?"

"That's my grandma," I say, pointing to one of the pictures of a woman in a calf-length white dress and holding a bouquet. Her arm is hooked through the arm of Ashton James Senior, and they're beaming at each other with love and happiness radiating from their smiles. There's another picture of them on a dance floor, outside a mansion that I'm pretty sure is the same one Ashton’s family lives in now. In the background, a teenaged version of my dad is sitting at a table, laughing at something happening off camera. Ashton's father is sitting across the table, watching him with interest. There's adoration in his eyes. I can imagine that at twelve years old, suddenly getting a big brother must have seemed pretty cool. Although I know from the story my dad told me, that didn't last long. The majority of the other pictures have Ashton's father, Junior, looking sullen or giving my dad a death glare from the background. There are a few pictures where they're laughing or getting along, most notably a photo taken when they are older. In this picture, they're in the shallow end of a pool and look to be wrestling. That must have been shortly before whatever their fight was, if I'm getting their ages right.

Ashton surprises me by laughing. "I wasn't paying attention to anything other than my dad and the random dude that looks like you. For a minute, I thought you were going to tell me that our dads were in some kind of secret relationship or something." He shakes his head at himself, chuckling. "I knew my grandfather had gotten remarried at some point, because there are news articles about the accident, but nobody ever talks about it. It's like a big family secret or something, but I never knew why. As a kid, I learned not to ask questions, so I honestly kind of forgot all about it. Mimi, that's what we call my grandma, basically pretends they were never divorced, and no one is stupid enough to say otherwise."

"Mimi is… Matilda?" I guess.

"Yeah, that's right. How'd you know?"

"Well, her name is on those documents there," I say, pointing them out. "But also from the story my dad told me."

I relay the story the best I can, doing my best to keep a neutral tone, even when I want to spit out that vile woman's name. The story and the payoff alone are enough for me to believe every word, but I can't show my obvious bias. I need to see what Ashton thinks, what he does with this information. If I come out of the gate on the offensive, he could react badly and feel the need to defend his family.

"My dad told me that story after I found those pictures. It was right after his business closed, so I was fourteen, I think. He never specifically said that your dad was the boy from the story, only said his stepbrother's name was Junior. I never connected the dots, but when we were talking before the break, something triggered a memory of these pictures."

"That's why you asked if anyone called my dad Junior."

I nod. "I actually asked about that at Thanksgiving. Mimi told me that grandfather called him that, but he always hated it, so no one ever calls him that anymore.

He's quiet again, looking at the documents with more expression in his eyes this time. "Do you… Do you think they did it? Changed my granddad's will, I mean?"

"I don't know. This is a lot of one-sided information, so it's easy to think it could be true. But we have no real way of knowing. I tried doing some basic internet searches for any records of lawsuits or my dad's public claims, but I didn't find anything. I was thinking about going home to Pinecrest over winter break and seeing if the library has old newspaper articles."

"That would be the only place to find them, if this is true. If there's one thing Kenneth Richards' legal team is good at, it's scrubbing evidence. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if they were able to keep it out of the papers."

"You don't think my dad was making it up?"

Ashton chews on his bottom lip, then looks up at me. "I want to believe my father wouldn't have done this, that maybe he didn't know what was really happening, or looked the other way to avoid getting in Mimi's way. But Mimi… I have zero doubt that she would do something like this, or worse even. She's like the southern belle version of a mafia boss. No one questions her or calls her on her bullshit. Ever. Even my dad, who doesn't listen to anybody, falls in line when she makes her wishes known."

"My dad said she was pretty toxic. That he and Ashton got along really well until she got involved. He felt like she turned him against him. He was really sad about how they left things, whatever happened. Maybe it was because of the business shutting down, too, but I remember thinking that he felt very strongly about what he was saying when he spoke of your father. He even defended him."

"Defended him now?"

"He kept saying that Junior was under a lot of pressure, and that he'd lost someone too. My dad really loved your grandfather, and I think he loved your dad, too. He was his brother."

"His brother that possibly cut him out of a will illegally, and then basically harassed his business until he had an opening to bulldoze it?" Ashton scoffs. "I'm not sure he deserved to be defended."

I don't argue, because I don't disagree. I don't think Ashton James Junior deserves the toxic air he breathes, and a big part of me hopes he suffers consequences for the many, many wrongs he has committed. I'm well aware of the type of man the CEO of AJames Enterprises is. He's the type that lines politician's pockets to make sure they work for him instead of the citizens whose interests they're supposed to be serving. He's the type that bulldozes small businesses and gentrifies neighborhoods so the people who grew up there can no longer afford to live. He's the type that believes profit is more important than people. Even the people he's supposed to love, like my dad.

Like his son.

Our game against Boston College is a loss. I think Ashton blames himself for it, because he's been in his head since Friday night. But everyone played great, and Ashton and I were fire on the court just like we were last weekend. It was a good game and the score was close. Even Coach said we played well. "Can't win 'em all," he said. Away games are hard. We'll keep pushing. We can't let one game get us down.

No one goes out partying after the game, so there isn't an opportunity for Ashton to slip away unnoticed. He tries to get me to come hang out with the rest of the team, but I'd rather not. I don't have the same faith in his so-called friends he does that everyone will just magically decide to accept me because I'm with him. Also, I'm not with him, I'm just getting with him. Or I was. I'm not sure what we're doing anymore. Things have been a bit awkward since Friday. Ashton has been deep in thought about everything I told him, and I wish I could get inside his head to know what he's thinking.

He seemed legitimately upset about what happened to my dad and his family's role in making his life more difficult. It's hard not to be angry about it, especially when you consider everything as a package. My dad said he didn't think his store closing was anything personal, but what if it was? I'm starting to understand why my mother broke down the way she did when she saw the flowers came from them. I thought the impersonal nature of the card was upsetting because AJames Enterprises had taken away my father's livelihood, but it was worse than that.

They were brothers.