Edge of seventeen

Chapter 55

Breaking up with Brooke was both easier and harder than I thought it would be. On one hand, I knew it was the right thing to do. Brooke was amazing—kind, sweet, and way too good to be dragged into the mess that was my love life. But on the other hand, she had been a safe haven for me, a distraction from all the confusing shit swirling around in my head about Asher.

When I finally worked up the nerve to talk to her, we were sitting on a bench outside the dorms. The evening was cool, the kind of night that made you want to pull someone close. But instead of doing that, I was about to push her away.

"Brooke, we need to talk," I started, my voice low.

She looked at me, her brow furrowing with concern. "What's wrong, Elliot?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Look, you're amazing, really, but I can't keep doing this. It's not fair to you."

Her eyes softened, and she nodded slowly, like she'd been expecting this. "Is this about Asher?"

I blinked, caught off guard. "What? No, I mean... yes, but it's more than that. I've got stuff I need to figure out, and it's not right for me to string you along while I do."

Brooke smiled sadly, and for a moment, I wondered if she was going to slap me or something. But instead, she reached out and took my hand, squeezing it gently. "I kind of figured. You two have this connection, you know? It's like you're drawn to each other."

"Yeah, I guess we are," I admitted, feeling a weird mix of relief and guilt. "But I don't want you to think this was all fake. I care about you, Brooke."

"I know you do," she said, her smile turning a little bittersweet. "But I think it's time we both move on."

The break-up was surprisingly mutual, and as I walked away, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. It wasn't that Brooke was a burden—she was anything but—but now I could finally stop pretending. I could focus on what I really wanted, which was figuring out whatever the hell was going on with me and Asher.

---

A couple of days later, I was back to my usual self, which basically meant flirting with Asher at every opportunity.

"Bet Brooke didn't know you liked dick," Asher said one day, smirking at me from across the table.

I laughed, not even a little bit embarrassed. "Oh, she had her suspicions. I just never confirmed or denied anything."

Asher shook his head, still smirking. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"Yeah, but you love it," I shot back, reaching across the table to playfully swat his arm.

He rolled his eyes, but I could see the way the corner of his mouth twitched up, betraying how much he enjoyed our banter. We might not be official or anything, but there was something between us, something that had been building for a long time.

One night, we were hanging out in our dorm room, just chilling on the bed like we always did. I don't know what came over me, maybe it was the way the moonlight streamed through the window, casting everything in this soft, almost ethereal glow, or maybe it was the fact that I was just done with all the games.

I leaned in closer, my hand brushing against his thigh. "You know, I could fuck you right now if I wanted to."

Asher's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he gave me this look, half-amused, half-challenging. "You talk a lot of shit, Elliot."

"Maybe I do," I whispered, my lips dangerously close to his ear. "But you can't deny that you like it."

For a moment, the air between us was thick with tension. My heart was pounding, and I could see that Asher's breath had quickened too. My hand slid further up his thigh, and I could feel the heat radiating off his skin, the way his muscles tensed under my touch.

Our eyes locked, and I knew if I just leaned in a little more, if I closed that small gap between us, we'd cross a line we could never uncross.

But then, something stopped me. Maybe it was the way Asher's gaze softened, or maybe it was the fact that despite everything, our relationship was still so damn fragile.

I pulled back, breaking the tension, and flopped onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. "Fuck, we're a mess, aren't we?"

Asher chuckled, though it was more of a nervous laugh than anything. "Yeah, but maybe that's okay."

We lay there in silence for a while, the almost-kiss hanging in the air between us like a question we were both too afraid to answer.

I knew I'd have to be patient. As much as I wanted to just dive into whatever this was with Asher, I also knew that we needed time. Time to figure things out, time to build something real.

But until then, I was content with what we had. Even if it meant waiting a little longer for the things I really wanted.