The Space Between Us(91)

“Then take a shot.” She paused but then picked up a shot glass and swallowed the tequila quickly.

“Tell me about your most favorite case,” she said as she winced through the burn of the liquor. So, this was it. I could tell she was pulling away from me. So I answered her questions.

For the next hour or so we sat at that table and had a normal conversation. No more shots were taken, but she finished her drink. I found out all about her art, where she sells it, what she found in New York that inspires her, what books she’s read recently. All of it was informative, but none of it was important, not important enough. Nothing I could learn about her life now would mean anything unless I could put it into context with why she had run away, why she continued to run.

She took in a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “Asher, I’m getting really tired. I think I’m ready to go home.” She stood up and stumbled as soon as her foot hit the floor.

“Whoa, Charlie.” I jumped off my stool and caught her before she tumbled to the floor. “You all right?” I asked.

“Yes, I’m just a little drunk,” she said with a smile. I shook my head. She was so small, so tiny, the alcohol plowed right through her.

“Ok, let’s get out of here.” I wrapped my arm around her waist and she leaned her head against my shoulder.

“I can walk on my own, Asher.”

I smirked. “I know. I’m just helping.”

“Ok,” she sighed.

We made it to my car and I helped her in, then got into the driver’s seat, turning the key in the ignition.

“Asher,” she whispered. I turned towards her. Her voice sounded sad.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something without you reading too much into it?”

My pulse raced at her question. “Ok,” I replied, just as apprehensive as she was. I’d just made a promise I couldn’t possibly keep.

“Can I go home with you? I don’t want to spend another night alone in my dead father’s house.” My heart ached at her words. She was broken, no matter how hard she tried to come across as put together and strong.

“Of course.” I smiled weakly at her. Then my smiled faded as I realized I would be sleeping in the same house as her and I wasn’t allowed to touch her.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” she said, almost reading my thoughts.

“No, you’ll sleep in my bed.”

“Asher, I can’t sleep with you,” she said panicked. That made me smile. Sickly, it made me glad she got just as much anxiety about it as I did. She was afraid to be in a bed with me, afraid of what would happen.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take the couch.”

“Ok,” she said as she breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” I pulled out of the parking lot and saw her head lean over onto the window. She spent the entire drive watching the street lights pass as I drove us to my house.





Chapter Fourteen


Asher


When we got to my house it seemed as if she’d sobered up a little bit. She didn’t need my help to walk to the door, but her speech was a still a little off. I opened the door and led her into the living room, flipping on the lights as I walked through the house.

“This is a really nice place,” she said quietly.

“Thanks. It’s not much, but it’s just me so I don’t need a lot.” I looked around the living room, noticing how it must look to her: bare, empty and cold. I didn’t spend a lot of time here. I was usually at the office or sleeping. There wasn’t a need to make this place comfortable. Right now, however, I wished I had something more than stark walls and uncomfortable chairs. “You can follow me back to the bedroom.” I pointed down the hall, then led the way.

I walked in, flipped on the light, and went straight for my dresser, not wanting to take any time to see her in my bedroom. I wanted her here, in my house and with me. I wanted as much time as I could steal with her. But I knew it would be torture to see her in my bedroom and not be free to touch her, free to feel her skin under my hands, free to breathe in her scent and bring her body as close to mine as I could manage. I gripped the clothes in the drawer, my fists clenching around shirts, trying to ease the frustration that came with the situation.

I took a moment to calm down and then grabbed a shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, both of which would be comically huge on her, but I figured it would be better than trying to sleep in the dress she wore. I turned around and was accosted by the image I was so desperately trying to avoid: Charlie standing in my bedroom, sleepy eyes and nervous smile. There was no way for her to understand how much I struggled with keeping my hands to myself in that moment. I shoved the clothes towards her and my voice sounded harsher than I intended.

“You can change into these. The master bathroom is just through there,” I motioned with a nod of my head towards the door on the other side of the room. She walked towards me and gingerly took the clothes from my hand. She walked past me to the door and my eyes closed, ignoring the ache in my chest that wanted me to stop her. An overwhelming part of me that wanted to hold her, slide her dress off her body, and feel her. I would give anything to be given the privilege. I heard the door to the bathroom click shut and I ran my hands over my face, trying to rub away the tension.

I turned back to my dresser to get some sleeping clothes for myself when I heard a loud crash come from the bathroom followed by Charlie’s voice.