Page 1 of Restrictions

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ASHER

Ilook out the large picture window of my family’s lake house as the turbulent water of the lake blows around with the wind from an incoming storm.

My mom’s getting married today. Fucking weird.

I don’t actually mind the guy she’s marrying. Anything is better than my father, and my mom seems happy. After the shit she’s been through over the years, she deserves to be happy.

“Baz! Wait!”

I turn around just in time for my three-year-old nephew, Sebastian, to bear-hug me around my legs. “Uncle Ash!”

I laugh happily as I pat the kid on his tiny shoulder and lean down to look him in the eyes. “Hey, little man. You get away from your mom?”

My nephew is, without a doubt, hands down the fucking cutest kid you’ll ever see. And I don’t give a shit if you agree or not. But if you don’t, you’re wrong.

His dark brown hair is slicked back, but the unruly cowlick in the middle of his bangs gives us all the defiant finger and remains sticking straight up. Of course, this doesn’t hinder his cuteness in the slightest. He’s wearing navy dress slacks with a crisp white button-down shirt and suspenders.

He nods his head exuberantly, proud of himself as his mom, Vivienne, catches up with him, holding out a navy bow tie. “Sebastian, don’t run away from Mommy. You have to get ready.”

My adorable nephew shakes his head from side to side, loving to give his mom a hard time. He’s a handful for sure, but again, fucking cute. I stand up and smirk at Viv, who looks slightly worn out, but pretty as usual.

Her light brown hair is down and rests right at her shoulders. Her dress is classy, like her. It’s navy, like Baz’s slacks, with sleeves to her elbows and neckline showing no hint of cleavage. Honestly, I’m not even sure if she has any. Her flared skirt lands below the knee, and her belted waist is the only thing hinting at an actual figure. She’s wearing heels but nothing too high to draw attention to her.

That’s Viv for ya, though. She likes to hide—blend in and just be.

Her pretty eyes meet mine, and I can see the stress in them. “I’m sorry we’re so late. He refused to take a bath this morning, then he didn’t want to eat anything. And traffic was horrible getting out of the city.”

See? Stressed.It ain’t easy being a single twenty-one–year-old mom to a three-year-old. I hold my hand out, silently asking for the bow tie. She sighs, finally taking a breath and hands it to me.

“I have no idea how to tie that thing.”

“No problem.” I bend down and slip the tie around my nephew’s little collar.

“You know how?” I don’t miss her condescending tone as I make a funny face at Baz, sticking my tongue out and winking one eye, playing stupid. He starts to giggle at my goofiness when I tie his bow tie and answer Viv.

“Who do you think tied mine?”

I’m dressed in a three-piece navy suit, complete with bow tie because I’m, of course, in the wedding party along with my sister, Lola, brother, Lincoln and his girl, Penelope.

His girl. What a fucking joke.

I try to shake that off as I adjust the now-fastened bow tie and stand up. Vivienne places a hand on her hip, examining my work with a sly smile. “Honestly? Your mother.”

Fuck you too.

But I don’t say it out loud, considering the little ears that are present.

I’m the youngest of four siblings, brought up in the upper-class society of Kansas City on the Kansas side. I’m used to people assuming I’m spoiled. Maybe I am.

“I learned how to do that a long time ago. I’m surprised you weren’t ever taught.”

She looks down at her son, bringing her hand up to her lips that are painted light pink but are still plump and full. Her tongue darts out and wets her hand before she tries her best to smooth down her son’s cowlick. “I’ve never worn a tie.”

Suddenly an image of her lying on a bed wearing only a tie pops into my head, and I have to force my mind to move elsewhere because that shit is fucking hot.Memo for later.

Not Viv of course. That shit would be fucked-up. The Sterlings are fucked-up, but I don’t want to give my brother, Linc, a run for his money in that department.

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