Page 44 of Descent

It's a reminder of what happened that night, between Asher and I. It’s a reminder that I got a small peek inside what was no doubt a common occurrence in Asher’s childhood. A reminder of how blessed I was to be able to grow up with Aunt Steph instead of my father. It’s a reminder of how much hurt is possible in this world, in our world, unless you have the right people by your side.

Shaking myself out of my morose mood, I pair my dress with a bold red lip and soft eye makeup before grabbing my clutch.

When I step out of my room, I’m surprised to see Asher standing by the door, fiddling with the cuff of his sport jacket before he turns to look at me. It’s one of those classic Cinderella moments. The ones you see in the movies as a little girl and desperately hope that one day you’ll get to experience.

His entire body freezes, his mouth parts, and his eyes take me in. I do my best to glide down the stairs as gracefully as I’m able to, while holding his eye contact. Before I get to the bottom, he moves, meeting me there and offering a hand to help me down. I smile at him, still having to look up at him a bit, even in heels.

“Hi,” I say softly.

“Hi,” he says, blinking a few times before a small grin that melts me flashes across his face. “You ready?”

I nod as he lowers our hands, intertwining our fingers as he opens the front door and walks me out. We walk down the front steps and over to the side of the driveway, where Asher parks a few of his cars. The garage has two inside, but he still has another four that are parked outside. I think he has a little bit of a car fetish and an unlimited credit limit problem.

Walking over to a car that is always covered, he releases my hand before unclipping the cover. I tilt my head curiously beforehe pulls it back, revealing a beautiful car. I couldn’t tell you what it is, only that it looks fast and classic.

“1968 Dodge Charger,” Asher smirks at me as he bundles up the cover and tosses it to the side.

“It’s beautiful. Is it worth a lot?” I ask as he walks around to get my door.

“A good amount, but it doesn’t compare to some of my others.”

My brows furrow. “Why is this one covered and not the others then?”

“It was my mom’s.”

I’m taken by surprise. Asher never talks about his mom; no one does, really. I can’t imagine the hell that poor woman went through being married to Christopher. Even if it was only for a day, that’s a day too long, in my opinion.

Asher helps me inside the car, before shutting the door and coming around the other side. I look around at the black leather interior, the scent of it, and something clean mixing in the car. It’s absolutely gorgeous and clearly means a lot to him.

The drive to the restaurant goes by fast. Soon, we’re being swept away to a fancy table in the back, with a hundred-dollar bottle of champagne and an expansive menu laid out before us. Asher keeps fidgeting in his seat, glancing up at me as I read through the menu.

“You okay?” I ask with a small smile.

“Yeah. Do you like it?”

“The restaurant?” I ask.

He nods.

“Well, yeah. It’s beautiful. Are you nervous?” I tease, as I set my menu down.

Asher scoffs. “Me? Nervous? Never. Do you know how many women I’ve been with? This isn’t my first rodeo, princess.”

I nod at that, doing my best to fight my smile.

“And tell me, how many of those women did you take to a romantic dinner date?”

His self-assured playboy attitude slips right off, revealing the nervous man behind it that I actually respect.

“You do like it?” he asks, his voice a little softer this time, like he’s unsure of himself.

I reach across the table, covering my hand with his as I nod.

“I really do, thank you.”

When he exhales, it looks as if a weight lifts from his shoulders.

“Of course.”

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