WANT (completed)

ch. 41 | The Past

ASA'S POV

I was ready to tell Cassandra everything a long time ago, but I wasn't sure how to talk about. I've never really talked about any of it. Well, not completely and honestly. Something my mom knew about, other parts Lauren was there to experience, but apart from bits and pieces, I don't think I've fully opened up to anyone about the past.

But I think now is the time. Looking down at the perfect girl in my arms, I know that it's been wrong of me to not tell her. Regardless of how ready or not I was to talk about it, doesn't matter, because in the end, Cassandra was the one who I had hurt by choosing not to talk about my past.

I had moved us into the bed, which I considered our bed now, and she was curled up against my bare chest. Cassandra didn't ask me to start talking, and she seemed content with just laying here in my arms, long, dark hair sprawled out against my hot skin.

Slowly, I pulled a blanket over us, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her even closer, causing her to look up at me with those big brown eyes of hers, eyebrows furrowed. Giving her a weak smile, I nodded slightly, before I finally spoke up.

"There's a lot that happened. Are you sure...you're okay with doing this now? I know you said you needed to get back to the office," my voice was soft-spoken, partly because I didn't want to break again as I had in the kitchen minutes back, and partly because I felt faint of heart.

Cassandra's eyebrows pulled together tighter than before as she turned in my arms, looking right into my eyes. "If you're ready to talk, I'm ready to listen, Asa. I don't care about work, or anything else," she reassured me, bringing her hand up to my cheek and cupping it as she placed a small kiss on my neck.

With a small nod, I pressed my head back against my pillow, looking up at the high ceiling. It seemed much shorter now, like it was closing in on us. With a deep breath, I started telling her everything.

Eight Years Ago

I've come to the conclusion that age doesn't matter when in college. No one gives a fuck about who you are, how old you are, or what you like or don't like. I fucking love it. Ever since I was a kid, I always followed my older brother around, but we were closer than most, even though we were nearly four years apart and he never seemed to mind my presence.

Even in high school, he would let me come to all the parties. With him being a senior while I was a freshman, it was a blessing in disguise for any teenage boy. All the girls that he wasn't interested in always came to me, and trust me, at fifteen, I wasn't going to say no to any seventeen year old cheerleader.

The same thing went forth in college, although it was much easier to fit in. But now I wasn't just the little brother anymore, but a grown ass man. I made my own friends for the most part, but the best part about following Andrew to UCLA? Definitely the parties. I was already so accustomed to attending many of them when I would come stay with him while in high school that I mostly knew everyone.

But this time, I could bring my own friends. Well, one friend in particular. Lauren. We had met at freshman orientation, and since then, we were always together. It wasn't in the way most people thought, because I wasn't interested in dating her. Most definitely not. She was just my best friend and we'd become closer than I had been to anyone in the last few months.

"Are you sure you want to come? I know this isn't your kind of thing," I find myself asking her for probably the thousandth time. Lauren wasn't like me, at all, which is why I was always hesitant in taking her to one of Andrew's frat parties. She was quiet, ridiculously smart, and in the first few months of university, I don't think I had seen her drink more than a cup of beer.