Page 73 of Bleeding Hearts

“You look much better in that shirt than I ever have,” he says.

I look over to find him sitting up on the bed, propped against the headboard, watching me.

I look down at the plain navy-blue T-shirt of his that I ended up wearing to bed last night. Asher’s bigger than me, so the shirt falls to about midthigh, but even so, he knows I have nothing under it. I do a little spin, showing it off, teasing him.

“Yeah, you should definitely keep that. Wear it all the time. Preferably with nothing under it.” He eyes me up and down, his gaze full of heat.

“All the time, huh?” I ask. “So, I should wear it out of the hotel like this?” I smirk.

“Fuck no,” he responds right away, jumping up from the bed and walking toward me, wearing nothing but black briefs that hug his thick thighs. “Only I get to see you like this. Those smooth, long legs of yours, the way the T-shirt hugs your ass, and those perky little nipples of yours poking their way through.” He wraps his arms around my lower back, pulling me into him. “I’d probably have to kill any fucker who saw you like this, and you’ve told me many times that I’m too pretty for jail.”

“Hmm.” I reach up, wrapping my arms around his neck, embedding my hands into his messy hair. “Possessive much?”

“You know, I’ve never been a possessive man. In fact, I probably haven’t cared about most people in my life nearly enough as I should’ve. But with you, fuck if there isn’t a single line I wouldn’t cross for you, Demi.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I kind of like you a little caveman-like.” I smile at him before pressing my lips to his.

The sound of his phone ringing from across the room interrupts us and he groans as he pulls away. He walks over, picking it up to see who it is.

“Hi, Mom.” He sighs into the phone as he answers.

He yanks the phone away from his ear as yelling that I can hear from across the room starts coming through. I can’t exactly make out what the woman is saying, but she definitely doesn’t sound happy.

Asher opens his mouth every now and then, trying to get a word in, but eventually gives up, letting his mom lecture him.

He looks at me with a pleading look, begging me to help him, but I know better than to get between him and the woman who raised him.

I shrug with a smile before leaving him on his own, walking to the bathroom to start getting ready.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says into the phone after what seems like more than five minutes. “Yeah, she is.” He pauses. “I don’t know about that.” He hesitates. “Okay, fine,” he concedes before walking into the bathroom, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “She wants to talk to you.”

“Me?” I ask, suddenly panicking. I don’t have much experience with parents besides my own. And well, they were about the shittiest example I could possibly have.

“It’ll be fine, I promise,” he says, covering the phone speaker as he hands it to me.

I nod, taking it from him hesitantly.

“Hello?” I say into the phone, but it comes out more like a question.

“Hi, sweetheart.” A kind voice filters through the speaker. “Aldo has told me so many wonderful things about you. Sadly, my son didn’t think I should be informed of your existence.” She sighs.

“Well, you’ll have to thank Aldo for me.” I laugh nervously into the phone. “And I hope I’m not overstepping, Mrs. Gray, when I ask you to please give Asher a little leeway. The two of us are really new, like really new.”

“Please, call me Emma,” she says. “And I promise I’ll do just that if the two of you will come to our dinner party tonight. Asher’s father and I are just dying to meet you and see our boy.”

“Oh, well, that sounds amazing, Emma, but I really think that’s something you should ask Asher. It’s his decision.”

“I can see why he likes you.” She laughs. “Don’t worry, I have a way with words with my son. Go ahead and give him the phone back and I’ll see you tonight, sweetheart. The dress code is casual.”

“Oh, alright. Well, thank you. I guess I’ll see you tonight. Nice talking to you, Emma.” I laugh.

“See you tonight?” he asks, a panicked look on his face.

“She wants to talk to you again.” I shrug, smiling at him as I hand him his phone back.

He takes it from me, walking back over to the window with the phone pressed to his ear. He’s probably on for a total of another two minutes, and I think the only word I hear him say is okay.

“So, is it too soon for you to meet the parents?” he asks, walking over to stand behind me in the bathroom, a defeated look on his face as I watch him through the mirror.

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