Page 53 of Restrictions

I nod. “I know, but I lost a brother.” It feels selfish even thinking it, let alone saying it out loud.

She studies me and nods. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

“He wasn’t just my brother, he was the best friend I ever had. Always trying to get me away from the house and not become like Linc, but he didn’t try to make me like him either. I swear, he was the one person who made me feel like me.”

She doesn’t say anything, just listens. And I can see she wants to touch me again, wants to comfort me, but she thinks better of it this time as we lay there with our faces only inches apart.

“When he died, I wanted him to be proud of me, so I did my best to switch gears and be like him. To take care of our mother who could barely pry herself off the floor. And the only time I could get her to do that is when I would do things that he used to do.”

“Like?”

“Charity work. Museums. Goody Two-shoes shit that I hate.”

She smiles at that. “You were Colt for her.”

I nod, grimacing. “I was, but it wasn’t enough. She would go back to bed for days, lost in her grief, and I was so busy trying to take care of her that I didn’t get to grieve. I fucking hated it and became bitter and cold.”

“She loves you, Asher.”

“I love her too, but I’m still irrationally angry about it. So when she met Tony, and I saw she was happy, I fucking ran. I just need some time.”

She rolls to her back again, bringing her hands up between her perky breasts that I do believe are braless as she picks at her nails. “I think you deserve the time to find out who you are, Asher Sterling.”

I grin and roll to my back, liking the way she says my whole name. “I think you deserve the same damn thing, Vivienne Crenshaw.”

“I do hope you can forgive her. As a mother, I don’t think there would be a worse pain on earth.”

“I know. I said it was irrational.”

Her laugh does crazy things to me. “Not irrational. You’re entitled to your own pain, but I don’t think she wanted you to be Colt. I think she just wanted Colt back with all of you.”

I swallow and look up at the ceiling, hoping she’s right.

It’s something I’ve always had a hard time with.

Colt was the golden child, and when he was lost, I wondered if they wished they could trade any of us remaining kids for him.

23

VIVIENNE

Baz went to sleep easily tonight, and I’m sure this two-day stretch of him falling asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow will end tomorrow. But for tonight, I’m going to enjoy the quiet time.

I take a quick shower, washing off the day and slip into my bikini, going down the stairs to the indoor pool. As much as I resent my father for picking out a far too luxurious house and making me feel like anything else would have been a disservice to Baz, I am grateful to get to go for a swim when the high temperature today was only fifty degrees.

I punch in the code to the door and open it, my eyes instantly darting to Asher who’s currently in the hot tub with his head leaning back against the stone edge. I try not to stare at his carved abs through the water.

His head swivels in my direction, his eyes sliding over my body, stealing all the liquid in my mouth, forcing me to swallow. “I guess we had the same idea.”

He smiles, looking away from me as I climb into the shallow end of the pool, quickly adjusting to the water when I find it at a pleasant temperature. Our talk last night has me feeling closer to him. I knew there was more under the beautiful surface of him.

Maybe something a little darker than the light, carefree person heappears to be on the outside. I adore Nora, but, I of all people, know that parents often aren’t the same as they appear to the public eye when they’re under their own roof.

I can’t imagine the hell they’ve all been through, and Asher feels he was left behind to pick up the pieces. Of course he’s a little resentful. Anyone would be.

I wade into the water, swimming over to the edge of the hot tub that’s separated from the pool by a few inches of stone. I rest my arms over the ledge and look at Asher. “I’m glad we talked. Are you?”

Asher rises from the water, the liquid dripping down his toned torso as he hops over the ledge and into the cool pool water. He lets his entire body and his head go under before popping up, brushing the water from his hair with one hand and holding onto the ledge with the other, facing me. “Yeah. I am, but it’s not something I want to talk about a lot.”

---