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Chapter Seven

ASHER

I was ignoring Kaleb. Well, ignoring all my male fans, really.

Doctor’s orders?

I hated men. Truly. But... I also felt lonely. I wanted one of them to double-text me. Needed them to. I hated feeling like this: needy, desperate for male attention. For validation.

Didn’t even matter what kind. Call me a dirty little slut or a perfect boy, it all hit the same. And I hated that. Hated that I still got hot either way.

So, I decided to take Dr. Peterson’s advice. Today, I was distancing myself from my fake boyfriend: Kaleb.

But halfway through the day, I found myself bummed out. Kaleb hadn’t texted me. Not once. Not even a message asking for a private photo.

All the other horny guys did, obviously. But they never pried. Why would they? I wasn’t their boyfriend. Just a guy on a screen they found… fuckable.

I hate it. I hate it.

I even went to the grocery store, just to be around people. It was the weekend, and I thought maybe... maybe something would help. I passed a lot of couples and somehow felt lonelier than ever.

Isolation wasn’t working. Not even a little.

I wandered through the park for a bit. Still nothing. Had the sudden urge to post a picture. Something hot. Maybe even try something risky in public. Maybe I should actually let a guy fuck me for once. Go to a club, find someone decent-looking, and just… do it. But I didn’t.

I walked home, defeated. Scrolled through my messages. My sister’s name popped up again, just more apologies.

Sister: Talk to me. Sister: I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.

I closed the thread and opened my messages with Kaleb. Mostly sexual stuff, sure. But every once in a while, he’d remind me to eat. Or text something stupid like “The moon’s beautiful tonight.” It was weird. Weirdly sweet.

I wanted to send him a sexy photo. Get his attention. I didn’t even know him, probably never would, but I knew if I sent something, he’d reply. But I couldn’t. So I did the only thing I could.

Asher: Hey. It’s Asher.

It only took a minute. He responded immediately. And yeah, maybe I got a little giddy seeing how fast he replied. Felt like a fire lit inside me.

What a loser. Just waiting by his phone?

God… is he secretly a pervert, just dying for me to message him?

Pathetic.

Still, I was lying on my stomach, kicking my feet like some teenage girl because his reply made me feel something.

Kaleb: Hello, Asher. How can I help you?

Lame. So lame.

Asher: You gave me your number.

He was typing. I could see the dots. That weird rush came again.

Blake: Yes, I did. Professional help, remember? So, how can I assist you?

I didn’t want to end the convo. I wanted to talk to him. To someone who understood me. Even a little. Didn’t know what to say, though. "Hey, Doctor, I’m a loser with no friends. Please chat with me?" No thanks. Fuck that.

Asher: Nevermind. False alarm.

I typed it. Stared at it. Deleted it.

I should be honest, right? For once?

Asher: I feel lonely. Without… my boyfriend.

There. Pathetic. Honest. Whatever.

Blake: I’m in the middle of a housewarming party, so I can’t text you.

Oh.

I deflated immediately. Jesus, of course he had a life. What the hell was I expecting?

But then, another message.

Blake: Come over. I’ll introduce you. Here’s the address.

My heart stopped.

His house. A real address.

Nice area too. Like, really nice. Twenty times better than this dump I live in.

I shouldn’t go. It was unethical. Obvious boundary-crossing. But Kaleb was older. A therapist. He seemed fine with it?

God. Could I actually go?

I looked down at my outfit, tank top and pajama shorts. I looked like a slut. So I changed.

Asher: Isn’t that against ethical laws?

Blake: You’re following laws now?

I flushed.

Blake: Don’t worry too much. I’m helping you. Call it exposure therapy.

I didn’t even think. I just grabbed my keys and left.

The moment I got there, I knew I didn’t belong.

It wasn’t Blake’s fault. It was the house itself. Huge. Clean. Manicured lawn. Two stories. Who needs two stories?

It made me rethink what I knew about him. If he had a wife, or a girlfriend, I’d know… right?

I mean, I had seen him wear a ring once. But that woman at his office, the one practically drooling over him, she didn’t act like he was taken.

Still… staring up at his house, I suddenly felt very small.

I looked down the street and saw my beat-up car. That contrast hit hard. I didn’t belong here.

I got closer to the door. Could hear the sound of chatter inside. Didn’t knock. Just texted him.

Asher: I’m outside.

Blake: Come in. Door should be unlocked.

Great.

So this was happening.

The moment I stepped inside, I was hit with the scent of expensive cologne and wine. There were a lot of people. Not exactly a house party, more like an adult mixer. Everyone was dressed up. Cocktail dresses. Button-downs. Chandelier ceilings. Little hors d'oeuvres spread around the room like we were at a damn art gallery.

And then I saw him. Blake.

Tall, poised, perfect. He was speaking to her again, the woman from the office. She looked even better now. Red dress. Hair curled at the tips. A radiant fucking smile.

God, I was leaving.

I turned, but bumped into someone.

Older man. Mid-thirties. Attractive.

“Hey, sorry. Didn’t see you,” he said, eyes sweeping over me. Not subtle.

I wasn’t dressed for this. My clothes were worn. Ripped black jeans. Crisp white shirt and a tie, the same outfit I’d worn in that stream for Kaleb.

They didn’t know that, obviously. But still.

“Hi,” I said. Timid. Weird for me. But I didn’t like being here. Didn’t like why I was here.

The guy grinned. “Didn’t know my brother knew someone this young. College?”

“I’m 27.”

His eyes widened slightly. “Ah. Still young, but at least not nineteen. Thank God. Thought my brother was robbing the cradle.”

He offered me his drink.

I took it, grateful to have something to hold.

“How do you know Blake? You don’t look like his usual crowd.”

I downed the drink too quickly. It burned. Hard.

Not his usual crowd. Yeah. I knew what that meant.

“Thanks,” was all I said.

He chuckled, placing a hand on my shoulder.

I didn’t like hands on me. I was about to tell him so, when we were interrupted.

“Derek.” Blake’s voice dropped. Cold. Serious.

The temperature in the room plummeted, and even Derek looked rattled.

“Aye, my favorite brother,” Derek said with a smirk. “Introduce me to the cute brunette you’ve been hiding.”

I turned toward Blake, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. When I looked back, Derek had already taken a step away from me.

Gone.

“Ignore him,” Blake said. “He flirts with everyone.”

He was smiling again. Warmer, maybe. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. I hid behind my now-empty glass.

“How was the drive? Are you hungry?” he asked.

“I—”

“Blake! Love, come try Kim’s lasagna!”

Her again. Still glued to him.

She was smiling up at him like he belonged to her. And he smiled back.

“Would you like to try some, Ash?” he asked, gesturing toward the kitchen.

I followed behind them both. Reluctantly.

Why the fuck did I come? And where was this irritation coming from?