He collapses on the bed, breathing heavily. “Give me five minutes to catch my breath.”
I give his ass a playful smack. “I’m counting down.”
“You’re welcome,” Ashton says, earning our attention.
He pulls Mia off his dick and it bounces out of her, still fucking hard. Cum runs out of her abused pussy, dripping all over his groin.
“Thank you,” both Drew and I say at once.
By the time I locate another condom, Mia and Ashton have disappeared, but my hot boyfriend is ready for round two.Impulsive. Inconsiderate. Selfish. Thoughtless. Rash.
All the words my parents, teachers, and therapists have used to describe me come flooding back, bouncing around inside my head like popcorn.
Destructive.
To myself and others.
Drew and Brayden didn’t need me to interfere last night. I wanted to. And that makes me a horrible person.
I have Mia.
For how long?
She’ll grow tired of my shit eventually.
Fuck.
As soon as we get back from dinner, I leave the kitchen where everyone is laughing and make a beeline for the bedroom. Drew and Brayden spent the day on the slopes again, but I couldn’t do it, couldn’t be around them, so I lied and said I had a migraine. Of course Mia, the good person she is, insisted on staying in with me. We watched a few movies, but for the most part, I slept. Because at least when I was asleep, I could escape the guilt I feel.
When the guys returned, Mia insisted I needed to get out and eat something, and dragged us all to dinner. Nobody asked if I was okay, but I could see the concerned looks they were shooting me. I don’t deserve their concern, though.
I strip out of my clothes down to my boxers and crawl into bed beneath the covers. Dragging the pillow over my face, I try to keep down the bitter pill of regret I keep swallowing over and over again.
It’s like acid.
A painful reminder.
I’ll never be the right man for her. I’m too fucked up. Too jaded. Shattered by the people who were supposed to be a good influence. They ruined me when they ruined themselves. I’m hardened in all the wrong spots and I don’t know if I can ever be soft where Mia needs me to be.
I will ruin her like Mom ruined Dad.
And because she’s Mia, she’ll stick around, unhappy but taking it like a fucking champ because she feels like something is better than nothing.
I don’t want to give her something—a quarter of what she needs.
I want to give her everything.
My chest aches painfully. Tears of anger and devastation burn at my eyes, threatening to build but never do because I’m broken. Unable to feel normal. Half sane and the other half of me guided by my motherfucking dick.
Hate.
All I feel is hate for myself.
I should break up with her before she falls too hard. Before we’re in too deep. Before marriage and fucking kids. If not, they’ll turn out to be little fuckups like me.
Christ.
I can’t do this.
The blankets pull back and the angel in my dark world slides beneath the covers, seeking me out. I can’t fucking look at her.
“Ashton, what’s wrong?” Her voice cracks, sad and confused. “Is it me?”
I fling the pillow away, glowering at her pretty face. “Fuck you, Mia, for even considering that.”
Hurt fills her brown eyes and then she hardens them. “Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“This bullshit you’re doing,” she snaps. “Blaming yourself. Carrying the burden all alone. I’m tired of it, Ashton.”
I’m tired of it, Ashton.
I’m tired of you.
I squeeze my eyes shut as my heart cracks down the middle. “I can’t do this to you.”
Her fingers are like silk, gently stroking my cheek. “Look at me, baby.”
Because I can’t deny her a thing, I open my eyes.
“I love you, Ashton Carter,” she tells me so fiercely, I feel it in my marrow. “But I don’t love the way you hate yourself.”
“MiMi…”
“Shh. I’m speaking now and you’re going to hear me out.” Her fingers run through my hair. “You and I are special. Wouldn’t you agree?”
I nod because fucking duh.
“And Drew and Brayden are too.”
Guilt swarms up inside me. Last night had been like a fantasy come to life. I’d been so turned on and I hate myself for it.
“We connect with them,” she murmurs. “It doesn’t feel bad when we’re around them. It feels right.” She kisses my mouth. “I don’t feel like you’re leaving me to play with them. I feel like it’s something we’re doing together. As a team.”
“I don’t play team sports,” I joke, and then wince because joking now is fucked-up.
“I love your strange sense of humor,” she reveals. “How you can crack a joke when we’re trying to be serious. That’s you, baby. I love how you’re a big flirt, not just to me, but to those other two special guys in there. You’re fiercely loyal to us.”