Page 42 of The Crush of Christmas Past
“But you did threaten to cut off my dick if I so much as touched a hair on her head. Which, truthfully, was the right call.” Especially considering that, by then, I’d entertained a thought or two about touching a lot more thanjusther hair.
That August was brutal. The first anniversary of her parents’ death. Uprooting her life to move across the country for school. Facing everything on her own for the first time. And then—our goodbye. Necessary, and so fucking final.
“When I made it home for Christmas, the look in your eyes was that of a deprived man.”
“I think you meandepraved.”
“That too.” Asher whistles, tossing an ornament in the air and catching it with one hand. “I can’t believe she didn’t pick up on just how gone you were.”
I watch him for a moment, my lungs tightening, before muttering, “Perhaps she did.”
Maybe that’s why she felt brave enough to share her feelings during the town’s annual Christmas Eve party on Starlight Summit. Only for me to—
Damn it.
“I didn’t mean to hurt her.” The words carve their way out as my hands fist at my sides.
Asher doesn’t flinch, but his jaw tightens, palm closing around the treat he’s been fiddling with. “You broke her heart. But ultimately, you did a good thing. You made her stronger.”
“No. She did that on her own. Despite my bullshit.”
Isla Ever Greene is one of the strongest people and most brilliant artists I’ve ever known. Competent. Independent. Creative.
Sheer fucking perfection.
Asher’s eyes lock with mine. “You’re a deep, dark well I’ll never fully be able to read, brother, but I know you in the ways that matter. I get why you did what you did. And, while I don’t agree with your methods, I understand. I’ve always trusted you with Isla.”
My heart squeezes, a lump forming in my throat. I don’t know how to handle the gravity of his words, so I stay quiet, letting their weight settle in my chest.
“Sure, you may have gone the MBA route, but you’ve always been an artist at heart. You also know how to shut up and listen when it counts. I was certain your soul would resonate with Isla’s in a way that not even Mom’s could. I knew, without a doubt, you’d be who she needed back then.”
“And…now?” The question slips out before I can figure out what the hell I’m even asking. I don’t need Asher’s approval—or his permission. But, when it comes to Isla, his opinion carries more power than I’d like to admit.
“Always!” he shouts, his voice loud enough to send a pair of crows squawking up into the winter-gray sky, their wings slicing through the air like black arrows.
He watches them fly away before forging on. “That’s why I never understood your anger with me when I talked her into applying to AdCraft after she graduated. I thought being at the same company would be—”
“A mistake,” I cut him off. “That entire firm is a mistake.”
A big promotion had planted me halfway across the world for most of Isla’s college years, leaving me out of touch, out of reach. When I found out Asher had pushed her into a Junior Designer position at AdCraft, I’d lost it.
“The place is a corporate septic tank. Always will be. Nepotism, exploitation, harassment…” I wince. “I had no idea she’d accepted the job offer until it was too late to convince her to go elsewhere.”
Not that she’d have listened. When I did try to get her to quit, she took it as me doubting her talent. She thought I didn’t believe in her skills.
“Is that why you left Tokyo?” Asher frowns. “How is this the first time we’re discussing such an important piece of history?”
I shrug, unsure how to respond. The whole talk-about-feelings thing isn’t our M.O.—though not for Asher’s lack of trying.
“You said you wanted to be closer to family.” He gestures in the direction of our parents’ house. “To Jovie.”
“That was true. I wanted to be there for all of you.” At that point, Isla was family, too. She just didn’t know it. And, frankly, I did a shit job of showing it.
He rubs his forehead. “After my selfish stint withContinental Chronicles, it struck me as wild that you’d take a pay cut and trade the coveted role of Director of International Marketing for a lower position back at headquarters. I should’ve known it was because of her. But you were on the outs, barely talking, so it wasn’t obvious.”
“Yeah, well…” I also tried to convince myself the move had nothing to do with Isla.
“What had you so worried?” he asks, frowning.
