He just said it.

The three words I've been craving to hear.

My body presses against the softness of the bed, and my breath catches in my throat. The room is bathed in the muted glow of the moon, and the quiet murmurs of the city outside seem to fade away. The weight of everything we've been through lingers in the air.

"I love you so much," he says again, his voice a gentle reassurance, but also a reminder of the fractures we're trying to mend.

There's a moment of hesitation, a heartbeat where I'm suspended between the vulnerability of his admission and the walls we've built around ourselves.

But then, his fingers find mine. A silent plea, a connection that goes beyond our unspoken doubts. His touch is warm, a lifeline in the uncertainty that surrounds us.

"I love you too," the words spill from my lips before I can hold them back.

His eyes soften, and his chest expands on a deep breath. "But you don't trust me."

A pang of guilt twists inside me. It's not that I don't want to trust him. It's just that trust is a fragile thing, shattered by the storm of my past. I want to let him in, to bridge the gap between us, but the scars from my relationship with Zack still pulse beneath the surface.

"I want to trust you," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "But sometimes, it's like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."

His brow furrows in confusion, and I hate the hurt in his eyes. "What does that mean?" he asks.

The words hang in the air, a heavy silence stretching between us. I take a deep breath, steeling myself to open up. But the words get stuck in my throat, trapped by the fear of reliving those painful memories.

Deep down, I know it's not fair to Asher. Years of therapy have taught me that talking is an important tool in a relationship. But the words I lost somewhere inside me, and I'm not ready to show Asher all the ugly I've been through.

I can't show him how weak I was at some point in my life.

I can't.

"I'm broken, Asher," I say, my gaze dropping to our entwined hands. "I'm not the same Emily you met years ago."

He doesn't speak for a moment, and when he does, his voice is a gentle murmur. "I love the person you are now."

"The person I am now is jealous, insecure, and a little broken inside." I pause, searching for the right words. "I saw those pictures, and... I need you to tell me what happened."

His expression shifts, disappointment clouding his features. "I already told you I met her when we were both leaving the same restaurant, and I didn't want to be rude when she invited me for a drink."

"Yeah..."

"Right." He nods, his throat bobbing. "Clare and I had an on-and-off relationship for years. But when you and I found our way back to each other, I realized what I was missing. I remembered what a real connection felt like. She and I were never serious, just a convenient arrangement when we happened to be in the same place. That's why those pictures don't mean anything, Em."

"Do you... did you love her?" The question slips out, and I instantly regret asking.

His gaze meets mine, and I see sincerity in his eyes. "I've only loved one woman in my life, and she's lying right here in front of me."

It's the answer I wanted to hear, but the hurt lingers. The acknowledgment that he once had a connection, no matter how casual with Clare gnaws at the edges of my insecurities.

Would they still be together if we hadn't entered our own arrangement?

"Did she know that it was over when you met her for drinks?" I ask, needing to know the truth, even if it hurts.

Asher's eyes show me the answer before he can say anything. A flicker of guilt passes through his gaze, and I brace myself for what comes next.

"I told her I was happily engaged and about to get married in a few weeks," he says, his gaze locked with mine.

"But she still wanted what you two had before."

Asher sighs, his shoulders slumping. "I guess it doesn't matter what she wants, but what I want, right? And I want you, as hard as it is for you to believe me."

I wish things were that simple. They'd been together for years, and in theory, they'd never ended their relationship. Besides, no matter how fabricated those photos could be, there was a clear connection between them. I can't help but feel like he still cares about her.

And now she's back in the picture. I hate that.

God, when did I become this woman?

"Thanks for telling me about her," I whisper, running the tip of my fingers over his cheek. There's nothing else I can say or do right now.

He leans into my touch, pulling me to him. "I hate fighting with you, Em," he murmurs against my hair.

I draw back slightly to look at him. "Me too."

"Are we okay?" he asks, his eyes full of hope.

I nod. "Yeah..."

Leaning in, he presses his lips to mine and tears prickle behind my eyes. I wish I weren't so broken. If I were a normal person, everything he just told me would make sense. I'd open up about my past and explain to him where all these insecurities come from and we'd be able to move past this.

Instead, I'm choosing to box all these feelings of inadequacy and jealousy inside and surrendering to the feel of his lips on mine.

"I love kissing you..." I murmur over his mouth, smiling when he lets out a low, husky groan.

"Yeah?" He breathes, his fingers threading through my hair, creating a tingling sensation that dances along my spine. "Show me."

Turning my head, I press my lips to his throat, then slide up his cheek. Playfully, I bite his jaw and use my tongue to soothe the sting. He moans, and I seal my mouth over his.

It stars softly and teasingly, his tongue stroking across my bottom lip. Then one of his hands cups my nape and the other slides down to grab my butt. Tilting his head, he kisses me faster in long deep licks that make me breathless.

I moan, pulling him closer. The weight of his body pressing over mine is so good that I wish we could bottle up this feeling.

He's kissing me with everything he has, and I love it. I want all of this. His hunger. His passion. His love. Everything.

It wasn't until he got back and bulldozed his way into my life and my heart that I realized how much I was waiting for him.

So much happened after he left. So much. I forced myself to go on with my life and to make sense of the world without him by my side.

I created a life outside my father's name and his constant pressure.

I broke free from an abusive relationship even if I still carry its scars.

I forced myself to give Frank a chance, even if things were never so serious between us, just to prove myself I owned my body and not Zack.

I never thought I'd be brave enough to build a woman's shelter or that I'd survive seeing it burned to the ground, but I did.

Yet...

A big part of my heart was missing.

Asher.

"I love you so much," he says, his lips moving against mine, his touch making me hotter.

"So much..." I press my hands to his chest, pulling his shirt open. The fabric gives way to the warmth of his skin.

My fingers trace the contours of his smooth and toned muscles, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my touch.

Asher's hands explore the curves of my body, igniting sparks of electricity with every touch. His lips trail down my neck, leaving a fire in their wake. My senses are heightened, and all I can think about is how much I want him.

"Em..." he murmurs over my lips, breaking the kiss. "Take off your clothes," he says as he stands up and quickly gets rid of his.

A shiver runs through me at the intensity of his gaze, and I slowly sit up, feeling the weight of his eyes on me.

With deliberate slowness, I let my fingers trace the buttons of my blouse. As the fabric falls away, exposing the swell of my breasts, I catch the hunger intensifying in his gaze.

The cool night breeze brushes against my skin, and I notice the subtle tightening of my nipples. It's a sensation I can't ignore, and I revel in the knowledge that he's watching, completely captivated.

His lips part slightly as I reach behind to unclasp my bra, the garment slipping away. The moonlight caresses the contours of my body, and it seems to amplify the desire in his eyes.

I lie back down, the sheets beneath me cool against my bare skin.

"Everything." His voice, rough with need, breaks the silence.

The command sends a jolt of arousal through me and my breath catches.

His eyes linger on me, waiting, and I can feel the intensity of his gaze like a physical touch. I don't move. and Asher shakes his head.

He's looking at me as he's ready to devour me.

And I want him to.

His eyes are dark with lust, and he's so hard he's throbbing. Yet, he just stares at me, his tongue darting out as he licks his lower lip.

Then, his focus moves downward, and I tease him by slowly sliding my pants off.

Fully naked now, I watch as Asher stands before me, his body sculpted and taut. His eyes rake over my form, and I revel in the raw desire etched on his face.

"Fuck." His nostrils flare, and the intensity of his desire makes my pulse quicken.

His hair is falling over his eyes and his abs are tight with tension. I could look at him like this forever.

With his eyes lock onto mine, he takes a step closer. He dips one knee into the mattress, his strong thigh brushing against mine.

Then, he shakes his head, as if contemplating what to do with me. His hands trace a path up my thighs, a slow burn that sends shivers through me. The weight of his gaze intensifies as he hovers over me, his lips a breath away from mine.

Right now, the world narrows down to the space between us, and all I can think about is him inside me.

Spreading my leg wider, I give him a slow, lazy smile. "I'm naked now. What are you going to do about it?"

_____

A/N: *clears throat* Makeup sex is always the best, right? Hehe

How are you enjoying their story so far?

Please remember to vote and follow me here CelesteABrook for news& updates. ❤️

XOXO

Celeste