Ari
Asher finds me in the library on the second floor a few minutes later, mumbling an apology about Maddox. I can tell heâs still angry, but Iâm unsure what to do about it. When I reach for his hand, he brushes me off.âMy mom wants to go to the beach. Would you like to join us?â His voice is monotone, like heâs getting the words out without meaning them.âSure. Itâs gorgeous out,â I offer, hoping the sunshine will put him in a better mood.âMeet you by the front door in ten?â he asks, finally looking down at me.âOkay.â He nods once, and as he turns to walk away, I grab his hand, pulling him back. âHey, are you okay?âHe sighs, and something in his expression deflates. âIâm fine. I just didnât⦠I wasnât expecting Maddox to be here, thatâs all. Iâm still furious with my parents for suggesting he drive you⦠What if something happened to you?â he asks, tilting his head.I should be flattered by his protectiveness, but instead I feel a tug of irritation. âIt was fine. We went to some local boutique, I picked some clothes out, end of story. You were working. What else was I supposed to do?âAsher opens his mouth to argue, but I squeeze his hand tightly. âHey. Maddox is your brother, whether you like it or not. And that means I need to learn to accept him.âAsherâs jaw tics. âDid heâ Was he nice to you, at least?âI hesitate. Nice isnât the word Iâd use.Overpowering, commanding, .intenseBut I keep that to myself.âYeah,â I say simply. âHe was fine.âAsher exhales, nodding stiffly. âAll right. Iâll see you in ten.âI watch as he walks away, a strange tightness settling in my chest.Shaking it off, I walk down the hallway and step into my room, shutting the door behind me. I move toward my suitcase, pulling out a swimsuit, already trying to decide if I should wear the one that still faintly smells like lavender shampoo or maybe one of my new dresses that sit neatly on my bed, still inside their shopping bags.Maddox mustâve dropped my new things off when Asher and I were talking. Did he overhear anything?My phone chimes, the sharp sound cutting through the stillness of my room. I blink, my pulse already thrumming with unease as I glance down at the screen.Unfamiliar number.I hesitate before opening the message, expecting spam, some automated alert, anything butâ â(858) 667-9960You liked it more than youâll admit.A slow, crawling sensation sends a static hum through me as I stare at the words, the meaning sinking in like a stone dropping into the depths of my stomach.I know exactly who itâs from.My fingers tighten around the phone, my grip just shy of trembling. The air in the room feels too thick, too still, like the walls are closing in.I tell myself itâs nothing. That itâs just Maddox messing with me. Pushing, testing.I exhale slowly, forcing my thoughts to steady. This is all just a game to him. A game I should ignore. I should delete it. I should block the number. I should do anything but what I actually do.I type out a response, fingers moving before my mind can catch up.Go to hell.I hit send.The reply comes almost instantly.(858) 667-9960Already there, angel. Just waiting on you.A shiver rolls through me. .AngelThe word lingers, curling around my thoughts like smoke. My breath stutters, and for a split second, my mind jumps somewhere it shouldnât. Somewhere absurd. The letters at my houseâ¦Iâll see you soon, angel.You lock your doors at night. Thatâs good. But doors donât keep me out, angel. They only keep you in.âNothing, angel. Go back to sleep, okay?âBut no. Thatâs ridiculous.I exhale sharply, pressing the power button until my screen goes black in my palm. Itâs time to disconnect from reality today. Iâve spent too much time letting this get to me already. Itâs a silly pet name. A generic one. Hell, random guys have called me angel before.And Maddox?I just met him.Thereâs no way.I shake my head, forcing the thought away, chalking it up to coincidence and my own paranoia. Still, my skin prickles as I move through the motions of getting ready, my body running on autopilot. I pull out the lavender-scented bikini from my suitcase and change into it, the faint floral scent grounding me. Normal. Routine.I wonât let some stupid text ruin my day. Heâs just trying to get in my head because of whatever rivalry he has going on with Asher.I wonât let him.I wonât.But the problem isâ¦He already has.The scent of salt and sunscreen clings to the air as I step onto the warm sand, my damp swimsuit clinging to my skin. I managed to rinse out most of the spilled shampoo, but thereâs still a faint lavender scent lingering from where it soaked into the dark blue fabric.I glance toward the shoreline, where Asher stands under the shade of a large beach umbrella, his phone already in hand. His parents are a few feet away, spreading out towels and setting up a small cooler with drinks. Maddox, of course, is watching everything in silence.I press my lips together and drop my bag onto a nearby folding chair they mustâve set up for me. The sun is hot against my skin, and I adjust the straps of my bikini before sitting down.Hannah beams at me as she settles into her chair. âSo, Ari⦠Asher says you started your own business? You worked for a firm last time we saw you, if I recall.âI smile and nod. âYes, I have my own CPA practice now. I started it a few months ago after working for a big firm.âBefore I can elaborate, Asher shifts beside me and glances up from his phone. âSheâs good at it, too.âI blink, and Hannah hums in approval. âThatâs wonderful, sweetheart. Independent women are a force to be reckoned with.âOtto chuckles, cracking open a cold beer. âNo wonder you keep Asher in line.âAt the mention of his name, I glance over at my boyfriend, but once again, heâs too focused on whateverâs on his phone screen to pay attention to the conversation. My stomach knots slightly. This is supposed to be a vacation, yet here he is, still buried in work.Sitting on the towel, I lean back on my elbows and let the sun beat down on my skin with my eyes closed. Iâm slathered in SPF 50, so I feel no guilt whatsoever for soaking up some much-needed vitamin D. My neck tingles, and when I open them, I see Maddox watching me with a white t-shirt and black swimming trunks on. The dark whorls of ink tracing down his arms are a stark contrast to the white shirt, but I donât give myself any time to admire them.Heâs only a few feet away, silent and still, his sharp blue gaze tracing over my body in a way that makes my skin prickle. Not with embarrassmentâwith awareness.âYouâre from San Diego, right?â Otto asks.I sit up and turn toward him, offering a warm smile. âYes, I grew up there. Well, kind of. My dad was military, so we moved around a lot before settling there.âAsher doesnât even look up from his phone. âShe has two younger sisters out of state,â he adds. âOne in college and one in graduate school.âI clench my teeth.Itâs not a lie. Itâs not even offensive. But something about the way he for meâwithout hesitation, without even checking to see if I wanted to speak for myselfâgrates against my skin.answersHannah nods approvingly. âIâm just so glad Asher has met such a nice, normal girl.âHer gaze flicks to Maddox, whose lips just twitch with amusement.As if he can see right through me.I donât know why that makes my chest constrict, but suddenly, I feel stuck.Trapped between a mother whoâs already decided who I am, a boyfriend who speaks over me, and a man whose silence feels heavier than words.The air is suddenly too thick, too hot. The sun beats down on me, and I feel my skin break out into a cold sweat.I push myself up, brushing sand from the backs of my thighs. âIâm going for a swim.âNo one argues.Not even Asher. He doesnât even look up from his phone.I walk toward the water, stepping over scattered shells and warm sand until I reach the surf. The ocean rushes in, lapping at my ankles, cool and soothing.I take another step forward, letting the waves wrap around my legs, my overheated skin drinking in the relief.After a few minutes, I feel a presence behind me. I donât have to turn around to know who it is. He doesnât speak right away, giving me the quiet I so badly needed. Instead, he steps into the water, silent as a shadow, letting the waves roll over his feet as he stares out at the horizon from next to me.His existence is impossible to ignore.I can feel him there, steady, deliberate, waiting. Almost like my body is tuned into the vibrations of his, somehow.Like the air is crackling and popping.God, I hate this.Finally, his voice cuts through the sound of the tide. âDoes Asher always do that?âI glance at him, surprised to see heâs shirtless. Good god. He mustâve spent his whole prison sentence doing pull-ups.âDo what?âHis eyes slide to mine, sharp, assessing. âSpeak for you.âA small flash of irritation flares in my chest. Not at him. At the truth in his words.I inhale slowly, turning my gaze back toward the water. âItâs not like that.ââIsnât it?âI donât answer. The silence between us stretches, but it isnât uncomfortable. Itâs something else. Something heavier. I let my eyes drift over him, taking in the ink that stretches from his collarbones, creeping over his chest, down both arms, all the way to his fingers. Black lines twist and coil into intricate designs, some pieces blending seamlessly into others, like they were added over time. The ink disappears beneath the waistband of his black swim shorts, and I wonder how far it goes.I have to actively attempt to ogle my boyfriendâs twinâs body, but underneath the ink is pure, carefully honed muscle.not Itâs hard to notice.not âHow long did those take?â I ask, nodding toward his tattoos.Maddox glances down at his arms, flexing his fingers slightly before letting them relax.âYears.âI trace the patterns with my eyes, drawn to the way the ink moves with the shift of his muscles.âThey let you get tattoos in prison?âHis expression doesnât change, but something flickers behind his gaze. âSome.âI tilt my head, waiting.He exhales, running a hand through his damp hair. âSome of these came before. The rest⦠I earned.â.BeforeThe word lingers in the air between us, and I get the distinct impression that holds more weight than just a timeline.beforeI press my lips together, my curiosity clawing at me. âHow did you earn them?âHis jaw tics slightly, and for a moment, I think he wonât answer. But thenâ ââBecause I needed to remember the people I couldnât save.â His voice is steady, but I hear the fracture underneath.Something about the way he says it makes the air between us shift.My fingers twitch at my sides, my curiosity gnawing at me, demanding more. But before I can ask, Maddox shifts closer. Just slightly. Just enough that his presence feels heavier.âYou know,â he murmurs, voice even, unreadable, âI see through the facade youâre putting on for my parents.âMy breath catches.I glance up at him, brows drawing together. âExcuse me?âHis expression doesnât change, but his gaze sharpens.âYou heard me,â he says, tilting his head slightly. âYouâre a good actress, Iâll give you that. Polite. Sweet. The perfect girlfriend.â His voice dips lower, like heâs letting me in on some private joke. âBut thatâs not who you really are, is it?âA slow, unwelcome heat creeps up my neck. Not from embarrassmentâfrom something else.I roll my eyes, trying to brush off the strange pull of his words. âYouâve known me for all of, what? A day? Donât act like youâve got me figured out.âHe hums, unconvinced. âNo?â His blue eyes donât waver from mine. âTell me, then. Has Asher ever noticed how restless you are?âI open my mouth, but nothing comes out. He waits. The waves rush in around our ankles, swirling between us, and I tell myself thatâs why I feel off-balance. Not because of him.Not because heâs right.I cross my arms, resisting the urge to fidget under his stare. âI donât know what youâre getting at.âMaddox smirks, like he does know. Like he knows exactly whatâs running through my mind, and heâs just waiting for me to catch up.âYou act like you donât want more, but I see it. I know itâs why youâre dating my brother. Perfect boyfriend. Perfect job. Whatâs next⦠a perfect wedding, perfect beige house, a few perfect kids?â His voice is low, edged with something knowing, something dangerously close to the truth.Something in my chest tightens. That all sounds⦠horrible.âIâm not perfect,â I say automatically.âNo,â he agrees. âBut you sure as hell try to be.âThe words strike a nerve. My stomach knots. I want to argue. I want to say something sharp, something cutting.I donât, though. Because I canât come up with a good enough retort.Maddox sees that too. His smirk deepens, just a fraction. He shifts his weight, exhaling as he turns his gaze back toward the water.âGood girls crack the hardest,â he says absently, almost like heâs talking to himself.I swallow hard, something tight coiling low in my stomach. âIâm notâ âââA good girl?â Maddox cuts in smoothly.His eyes flick back to mine.I donât like the way my pulse reacts.I donât like the way my thighs clench with whateverthe fuck is happening right now.I donât like the way he says it like he already knows the answer.His stare lingers, watching me, waiting for me to prove him right.And for the first time, Iâm not entirely sure I can.âAri!âI jerk at the sound of my name, blinking as the spell breaks.Asherâs voice carries over the sound of the waves. When I turn, heâs sitting in his chair beneath the umbrella, his phone still in his hand.He gestures toward me lazily. âWant to go on a walk? I have thirty minutes before a call.âA call.Not time together. Not, âI want to spend time with you.âI exhale, dragging a hand through my damp hair. âSure,â I yell back.When I glance back at Maddox, heâs watching me. Still, patient. A hunter letting his prey come to its own conclusions.I turn away and head toward Asher, but with every step, Maddoxâs words follow me.âYou act like you donât want more, but I see it.âAnd the worst part? Iâm not even sure I know what âmoreâ is.