Beyond the Horizon (Sons of Templar MC #4)(68)

“I thought you said you had classes all day,” his tone was questioning.

“I do,” I replied, scanning my messy desk for anything else I might need. My gaze stuttered over a forgotten flyer. One promising miracle cancer results. A blade went through my heart.

“And you’re wearing that?” Asher’s question jolted me out of my pity party.

I glanced down at my outfit self-consciously. “Yeah, what’s wrong with it?”

My white blouse was a reminder of the days I worked at Gwen’s store and could get some pricey items at a serious discount. It was white silk, and I had it half tucked into tight white jeans. The shoes were also a gift from Gwen after she had to clean out her closet when moving in with Cade. They were tan mules with a chunky heel, and I loved them.

Asher pushed out of bed, stalking over to me. It didn’t escape me that his ability to stalk naked was impressive and drool worthy. His finger traced over the bandage hiding under my hair, his other hand on my hip.

“Not one single thing is wrong with what you look like, apart from this,” he told me, lightly touching my injured forehead. “You’re beautiful,” he stated, his eyes running the length of me again. “I just thought college girls wore ripped jeans and baggy hoodies,” he continued, his tone teasing.

I regarded him. “When have you ever seen me in a baggy hoody?” I asked him seriously.

Asher pondered. “Every time I’ve had the pleasure of seeing this tight little body, it’s always been encased in a delightful package,” he replied, nuzzling my neck. He pulled back, his eyes serious. “You sure you’re okay today?” He brushed the bandage once more.

I nodded. “I’m more worried about Bex, you’ll check on her before you leave?”

Asher nodded tightly. “Yeah, flower. Not that I think she’d admit to me that she wasn’t okay. Seems like that girl could be bleeding from a bullet wound and cover it with a Band-Aid and declare there was nothing wrong,” he said seriously.

“Well, at least I know what a bullet wound looks like should that ever happen,” I replied, looking at my feet. The events of yesterday invaded my mind. Worry that seemed to pile on top of everything else weighing me down.

Asher seemed to sense my growing panic. His hand tightened. “I’m gonna take care of this, flower. I’m gonna take care of you,” he promised.

I didn’t want to, but I sank into his hold, into the warm cocoon his words provided. I should have argued. I should have told him that I would take care of myself, that I had to. Otherwise, I’d get lost in him. But I didn’t.

He kissed my lips gently. “See you tonight?” he asked when I reluctantly pulled back.

“I’m working tonight,” I groaned. “And the next, and the next, maybe until the end of time. Or until Bex heals and I don’t have to cover both of our rents.” I frowned at the prospect of surviving all of this even more tired than I usually was. At how I was going to keep my GPA high enough to keep my scholarship. Pressure hit my chest, and I felt a vice around my lungs.

Asher’s jaw tightened. “I said I’d take care of you, Lily. That means you don’t have to work at that place anymore,” he told me flatly.

My panic was momentarily forgotten. It would never be truly forgotten, the pressure on my chest told me that. But anger seemed to be a good distraction.

“I’m late,” I snapped. “That means I cannot articulate everything wrong with that sentence. I’ll condense my rant. You won’t pay my rent. You won’t turn me into a helpless woman reliant on you for everything from orgasms to electricity bills,” I informed him in a tight voice.

His face turned hard at my words, and I didn’t give him a chance to respond.

“I’ve got to go,” I said tightly, hoisting my bag onto my shoulder, and turning my back on him.

Asher’s hand fastened around my wrist, and he yanked me back into his body, plastering my lips with his before I could protest. It was embarrassing that even though I was annoyed, I didn’t fight one bit.

“You don’t get it, flower. I’m the one who’s reliant on you,” he murmured against my mouth. “Just trying to find a way to even the scales.”

My anger dissipated in an instant. My fragile emotional state had my state of mind in a precarious position.

“You’re late,” he reminded me gently.

“I’m late,” I agreed.

He rested his forehead on mine for a moment longer before I sighed and used all my willpower to walk out the door.





“Lily?”

It took me a moment to register my name being called. I jerked my head up from its position bent over a medical textbook.

“Aids?” I blinked at the sheepish figure standing beside the table I’d claimed in the corner of the library. All of my books were scattered atop of it. I think most of my wits were hiding amongst the pages.

“Mind if I sit?” He gestured to the seat across from me.

I shook my head, moving books around.

He sat, regarding me anxiously. “I’m surprised you’re talking to me. That you didn’t just tell me to screw off,” he said slowly.

I tilted my head. “Of course I’m talking to you, why would I tell you to screw off?” I asked, perplexed.