All The Lies: A Dark New Adult Romance: Chapter 22

I GLIDE the pen against my lower lip and bite down on it. I sit at the pool, a notepad on my legs, but I’m not studying.

My gaze keeps flitting to the backyard—or, more specifically, to the sleek, cut abdomen and back. They glisten with sweat as Asher switches from short runs to push-ups.

I mean, the least he can do is wear a damn T-shirt. But no, he always works out in just shorts as if he’s offended by anything on top.

It’s not that my eyes are complaining, but there’s a tiny little problem with my body becoming hot and bothered by the view.

The simplest solution would be to stop watching, but for the life of me, I can’t keep my eyes off him.

He’s like a magnet and I’m helpless steel. He’s the fire and I’m the moth waiting to be burned.

I wish this weird infatuation were because of that tousled hair sticking to his forehead, the six-pack cut to perfection, the broad shoulders, or the intricate tattoo rippling up his bicep.

I wish it were all about the unfairly handsome face or the ‘fuck you’ aura he exudes so well. I really wish the tugging and pulling at the bottom of my stomach were only because I’m drawn to his exterior charm.

But that’s not, is it?

Something wild and crazy lurks under the surface between us. This twisted connection started that first day in the hospital, and it’s refused to stop ever since.

Like a current of water, the harder I fight it, the stronger it pulls me under.

My phone pings, and I nearly drop my pen. Shifting to face forward, I check my messages.

It’s my group chat with Lucy and Naomi.

Lucy: Let’s meet. Reina? Nao?

Naomi: Fine, but don’t you dare go sappy on me.

I grin as I type.

Reina: Sappy is my middle name, dude.

Luce sends a laughing emoji, and Naomi sends a GIF of a girl rolling her eyes.

They’re seriously the only two I find comfort with. Despite her tough act, Naomi cares and is very mushy inside. Lucy is just Lucy, nice and supportive even if it affects her own comfort.

A notification from Instagram appears on my screen.

It’s a message. Cloud003.

My smile falls and my heart rate picks up. I can hear the roaring in my ears as I click on it.

Cloud003: I’ve been thinking a lot about your lips around my dick lately.

Cloud003: Or your pussy. I’m not picky.

My cheeks heat as I watch my surroundings. Asher is running in the distance, his back rippling, and no one else is around.

Reina-Ellis: Screw off or I’ll report this to the police.

Cloud003: The same police who are investigating you for murder?

How the hell does he know that?

Cloud003: Admit it, my slut. You want my cock as much as it wants you.

Reina-Ellis: Whatever happened between us is over. Move the fuck on.

The only one I can think about in a sexual way is the one running in the distance with earbuds in.

This mysterious asshole on Instagram does nothing for me. Old Reina was weird like that.

Cloud003: We’ll see about that.

I exit Instagram altogether and lift my head. Jason heads toward me, smirking at his phone.

When his dark eyes meet mine, he slips it in his jacket and loses the smirk.

I glance at my phone then back at him.

That…can’t be possible. Jason isn’t Cloud003.

He can’t be.

“Hey, Princess.” He smiles down at my sitting position near the pool.

Weʼve been studying together for a few weeks now. I help him out with his tests. In return, Jason has been sort of like my personal trainer to help me get back in shape before I return to being thrown in the air.

“Hey, Jace.” I watch him closely as if seeing him for the first time.

The mocha skin and kind eyes, the broad football body and the easy smile.

He can’t possibly be Cloud003. And yet…something nags at me to prove it.

Best way? Surprise element. If I catch him off guard, he’ll have only a fraction of a second to pull himself together, and that’s my moment to read him.

“Do you know the Instagram account Cloud003?” I ask nonchalantly.

He pauses, his smile faltering a little.

Oh, God, no.

This can’t be happening.

The conversation I had with him before stabs me in the mind. When I asked him if we were friends, he said, ‘Something like that.’

Turns out we were friends with benefits.

“No. I barely post anything there, anyway.” He smiles again. “Is it someone you know?”

“Not really.” I mimic his smile.

Two can play this game, asshole.

I won’t show my cards unless I know his purpose. The realization nearly breaks my heart.

These past few weeks, I was getting used to having him as a friend.

He motions at the trampoline near the pool. “Are you ready to practice your jumps?”

I tuck all the revelations to the back of my mind and focus on the present. Jason can’t know I figured it out. I need to act like before.

I stare between him and the trampoline. “No?”

“Come on. Dancing and jumping were your side hustle.”

Thatʼs the thing. I donʼt think they speak of me anymore, and I have zero confidence about my ability to do it. However, I already promised the girls, and Iʼll do whatever it takes to make up for the past.

So what if I fall and break my neck?

Dramatic much, Reina?

I abandon my notepad and hop up onto the trampoline.

Jason stands there with both his arms stretched out in front of him.

I start doing minor jumps I’ve practiced so far. It’s easy on the trampoline since it pulls me back down.

I do a major jump and flip in the air then return to the trampoline.

A rush of adrenaline tightens my stomach. There’s something amazing about floating in the air; those seconds are…freedom.

Maybe that’s why Old Reina stuck with cheerleading after high school.

“Now come over,” Jason prompts.

I take several deep breaths, still jumping on the trampoline. I can’t trust him with my life, especially after what I just unraveled.

However, if I refuse to, he’ll grow suspicious.

So I close my eyes and jump in his direction, flipping in the air.

Strong arms catch me in a cage-like embrace. I squeal. “I did it!”

Wait, Jason was wearing a T-shirt—how come heʼs now…naked?

I open my eyes, and all words catch in my throat. The eyes looking down at me aren’t Jason’s brown ones; they’re deep green. Like an ocean, they pull me in and push me out.

For a moment, Iʼm glad my heart is actually trapped by a ribcage and won’t jump out of my chest.

A tremor rushes through my limbs, and I’m not sure if it’s because of the adrenaline wave or the feel of Asher’s arms around my waist.

He caught me.

I search for Jason. He stands by the side, rubbing the back of his neck and appearing uncomfortable.

Did Asher push him out of the way or something?

“You can go, Jason.” Asher is speaking to him, but his entire attention remains on me.

Like he doesn’t want to look away.

Or can’t.

“No.” I’m surprised my tone is level. “Jason and I are practicing.”

“Youʼre practicing with me now.”

“Pass.” I try to push off Asher, but his grip tightens around my waist until itʼs almost painful.

Whenever I used to talk back to Asher, he’d give me looks of suspicion or even surprise. Those have completely disappeared lately. Now, he just watches me with all these dark, heated stares that flip my stomach upside down.

“Iʼll just go,” Jason offers, shooting an undecipherable glance at Asher before he rounds the corner.

“Put me down,” I mutter, gritting my teeth.

Surprisingly, he does set me on my feet, but he doesnʼt remove his hand from around my waist. Heʼs too close, my breasts colliding with his chest…his hard, naked chest that’s glistening with sweat.

My senses fill with his sandalwood and citrus scent, like a warm, sunny day. The place where his hand touches me erupts with heat even though my top serves as a barrier.

My pulse picks up pace the more his attention swallows me whole. Itʼs like he can reach inside me and flip a switch to bring me back to life.

Refusing to get sucked into his orbit, I glare full on. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He motions at the trampoline. “You said you want to practice. Iʼll catch you.”

“I was doing that just fine with Jason.”

His grip tightens until I wince and his voice comes low. “Is this a new game?”

“Whatʼs the game in practicing with Jason?”

“The fact that you never hung out with him before, or that you never called him a friend.”

“Well, I do now.”

“What changed?”

“Me. I changed, Ash. Iʼm not the same Reina you used to know.”

“Asher.” His jaw ticks as if he’s searching for patience. “The name is Asher.”

“That’s one more thing that’s changed. I like Ash better.”

He pauses for a second too long. I made him speechless, and my insides dance at the thought. It’s so rare to make Asher Carson speechless.

His free hand trails up to my cheek and winds around my throat, but he’s not squeezing. He’s merely running his fingers along my skin, as if re-learning it.

Heat invades me and goosebumps form on the skin he touches.

“You’ve changed,” he says slowly.

Finally.

“You’re even blushing.”

“Iʼm not,” I yell, but even I can feel the pits of fire on my cheeks.

He runs the pad of his calloused thumb over my cheek as if to prove a point, to lure me into his trap like a predator would do to its prey.

“Is that so, Reina?”

“Stop it,” I hiss, looking around. Weʼre in view of the staff’s entrance. Anyone could come out and see us.

“I wonder what I’ll find if I check.”

“Check what?” I breathe.

“If I reach under those little shorts, pull your panties to the side, and thrust two fingers into your pussy, what will I find?”

It’s as if someone doused me with fuel, igniting a fire.

If I was blushing before then his dirty words have me all crimson now. The bottom of my stomach contracts with wicked anticipation.

Logically, I know I need to stop him, but I can’t fight the need to know more, to dig more.

Just more.

“So? What will I find, Reina?”

The whisper of my name out of his mouth isn’t just a name. It’s a promise. A damnation. A sinister journey that pulls me closer, refusing to let me go.

Who knew my damn name could have this effect?

His hand slides from my waist to the space where my shorts meet my thighs. I suck in a breath through my teeth at the feel of his fingers disappearing under the fabric.

His thumb and forefinger grip my chin as he murmurs, “Will I find you wet?”

I bite my lower lip to stop the voice that’s trying to escape.

And yes, I’m totally wet. My thighs have been slick with arousal since the moment he caught me against his half-naked body.

“I guess I have to find out on my own.” His hand stops between my thighs. I might have parted them, hoping for more friction or something.

Anything.

“I’m not stupid enough to think you’ve been saving yourself for me, but I want to know.” His voice drops to a dangerous range that feeds the goosebumps on my arms.

I throw him a curious glance as I fight the symphony of feelings going through me. That’s all I can do when I’m with him.

Feel.

And sometimes, like right now, it’s too much. Everything is crashing down on me from every side.

“Who did you give it up to?” The lust is still there, but something a lot more frightening lurks underneath.

“W-what?”

“Your virginity, prom queen. Who took it?”

Prom queen.

It’s the first time he’s called me that. It’s usually monster this or monster that.

I focus back on his question. Isn’t he my fiancé since I was ten or something? He should have been my first, no?

I watch him closely, his broad shoulders and sculpted face, the way his body angles toward mine both in menace and in something else.

If I had this man, I wouldn’t think about cheating on him.

But then again, Old Reina and I don’t think the same. Maybe she wasn’t as hung up on Asher as I am. In that case, we totally need to talk so she can give me pointers on how to pull myself out of his spell.

“Was it Jason?” he continues in that cool, threatening tone. “Someone on the team? Or wait…” He looks me up and down. “Did you pull a ‘fuck you’ card and give it to Owen or Sebastian? Maybe both at the same time?”

I pull my fist back and slam it into his chest. It’s hard enough that he stumbles backward, putting much-needed space between us.

Pressure builds behind my eyes, but I refuse to let him see that.

I refuse to let him see how much he affects me.

“If you want to think of me as a slut, go ahead, but don’t you dare imply I’d put myself down just to get back at you. Newsflash, Ash: you don’t deserve any of my actions to be dedicated to you.” I flip my hair, having learned from Naomi how much that fills me with confidence. “And you’re such an asshole for thinking so little of your friends. You don’t deserve Owen and Sebastian.”

I turn to leave, but a strong hand clasps around my wrist and pulls me back. I end up flush against his hard, naked chest as his eyes search mine.

There’s something in them that’s never been there before. It’s like he’s really searching for something—or someone.

His perfect brows draw together over stormy eyes that dissect my soul with each passing second.

“Who the fuck are you?” he murmurs, still watching me like a hawk.

I place a hand over his chest, wanting—no, needing him to understand.

“I don’t know, Ash. I really don’t know who I am anymore. I woke up one day with no recollection of who or what I am, and I learned how much of a monster I’ve been. But I’m trying. I swear I’m really trying to be better and to make up for what I’ve done. So how about you help me out? If you tell me what I did to you, I’ll do everything in my power to fix it.”

I didn’t expect anything out of my confession. Asher already has his perception about me, and it’ll take a miracle to change it.

He takes me by complete surprise when he sighs as if in defeat. “Some things can’t be fixed.”

I soften my voice. “Try me.”

“You might have lost your memories, but I didn’t.” His voice turns biting. “I remember everything. It’s all I can remember.”

My heart thumps loud and hard as if about to escape my chest. There’s so much hate in his eyes. It’s like a deadly disease eating him from the inside out. There’s a bit of confusion, too, but his hateful side suffocates everything else.

A lump the size of a ball lodges at the back of my throat as I choke the words out. “What did I do? Tell me.”

“You ruined my fucking life, monster.” His usual hardness disappears. His words are a cold, frosty statement that freezes me to the bone.

I open my mouth to say something then a shadow approaches us from the side. Asher releases me, and I stumble backward as if I’ve been burned.

“Rei.” Alex stops beside us with a clipped smile on his face, the one I call his lawyer smile. He usually uses that to ward off unwanted attention, or whenever he has a conversation with Asher.

That is, when they actually do speak.

Alex and Asher might look like father and son, but their conversations are non-existent. I barely see them acknowledge each other in the house.

Either the father-son link is too invisible, or it’s simply broken. Izzy once said Alex pays a shitload of money for Asher’s education, but that’s it.

It’s sad he thinks his relationship with his son is all about money. It also scared me to think perhaps my relationship with my father wasn’t any different.

“Can you come to my office?” Alex asks me.

I throw a glance at Asher in question, but he’s clenching his fists and looking away.

“Why?” I ask.

“Detective Daniels is back.” He grinds his molars. “This time, he has a warrant.”