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Asher
"And you do?" Hours later, and North's words still bounced violently around in my head. Grabbing a cold beer from the fridge and cracking it open, I stalked back to the living room and glared into the fireplace as the flames raged on. What the hell was North's problem back there? My brain worked on overdrive the next few moments as it scanned though the memories of Sang being in my life.
I never mistreated her. Not once. I may have kept my knowing of them a secret but that was only me offering her space and time to decide whether or not she wanted to reveal her past to me. Aggression had my body coiled tightly as I suppressed a ridiculous caveman growl. Sang. Mine. Not. Yours. I rolled my eyes and took another sip off of my beer.
A little ball of fluff stole my attention as it zoomed into the room and skidded to a halt at my feet. Pleading, startled eyes looked up at me from the ground, just as hurried footsteps thundered down the hallway. Sighing, I bent down at the waist and scooped Sprinkles up into my arms.
"SANG!!" Logan howled. Did a chandelier just shake? "Your damn squirrel is screwing with my shit again!"
Sang's voice echoed from her room, "I won't help you until you admit that he's a skunk, not a damn squirrel!"
My eyes met Sprinkle's terrified ones, and I ended up feeling bad for the little fella. Giving him a pat on the head, I glowered at Logan from across the room. He didn't notice, as he was honed in on the ball of fluff buried in my arms. At first, I didn't particularly like the idea of having a skunk—yes, a damn skunk—living in my home, but the mischievous little asshole grew on me.
"Care to explain why you're tormenting Sprinkles?"
Logan's glower was amusing. "Me? Tormenting him? That's rich! I'm going to turn that little bastard into earmuffs one of these days. There's not one damn thing that I own his grubby teeth haven't torn into! Now hand over the fluffball and I'll leave peacefully."
I barely kept myself from smiling smugly. For some reason, Sprinkles really loved to torment my brother. The skunk had never turned any of my possessions into a chew toy—that I'm grateful for. "Did you leave your door open again?"
He made an animal-like sound and lunged for us. Looking as comfy as ever in a pair of my baggy, grey sweatpants and her own pink sports bra, Sang caught Logan by the back of his shirt to halt his attack, a shit-eating grin brightening her face. The collar ended up rising up to grip Logan's neck, which explained the strange coughing-choking sound that escaped his throat. She let go of him and immediately scooped Sprinkles up from the safety of his arm fortress.
"Don't worry," she cooed at him. "We won't let the big, bad, scary Logan get you."
My heart thumped harder in my chest as I gazed at her. The impish nature of her personality shone from the depths of her green eyes. The very same impishness I looked forward to witnessing every single day. Locks of blonde hair were tied up into a laid-back ponytail, her face free of make-up. A primal desire had my jaw clenching. The site of her in my sweatpants, along with the exposure of her toned stomach, had me struggling against the urge to possess her in every single way possible. Mind, body, soul.
And you do? Again, those words ripped into me. I sighed and tried to clear my head. This was not the time to wallow.
Logan rubbed at his neck and glared daggers at Sang. Deciding to leave those two to it, I tipped back my beer and finished it off. These emotions need to be worked out of my system. All I needed was a punching bag and some weights, and then I'd be cured. Tipping my head down in nod at the two having a stare-off, I made my way down the basement stairs.
I couldn't let distractions get in the way of what my whole team craved most—kicking Parker's and the Highlanders' asses.
An hour and a half later, the earbuds playing Smells LikeTeen Spirit by Nirvana were ripped away from my ears. The song might have been old and overplayed, but it never failed to get my blood pumping and my head in the game. I dropped my fists and turned away from the punching bag. Sang dropped her hands to her hips and ran speculative eyes from my annoyed scowl, down my sweat-soaked chest, and the rest of the way down to my gym shoes.
My muscles tensed as I restrained myself from pinning her against the wall of the gym and showing her exactly how much my tongue and teeth wanted to worship her in that moment. I cursed and took a step back. The heat in her gaze thankfully diminished, leaving a stern, no-nonsense steel in its place.
"Want to spar?" She asked, her soft voice cutting through the raw tension in the air.
I shook my head and wiped the sweat from my forehead with a towel. "No, I'm good. I was just about done."
I wasn't scared of hurting her. If anybody would be doing the hurting, it would definitely be her. I was man enough to push my pride away and acknowledge the fact that Sang was skilled in fighting and could probably kick the asses of everyone in this house. She had always been a fighter. Her years of training in martial arts have paid off greatly and my pride for her knew no limits. She still trains every now and then at the studio downtown, but with football season and classes resting on her shoulders, she slowed down.
I always wondered why and how she fought with the ferocity of a lion, but now, after learning more about her past, I understand her need for strength and a sense of self-protection. If I could see my own eyes, I'm sure I'd be staring at the dark and primal anger they held. Her parents were scum.
Raising one eyebrow, Sang gave me a curious look, but knowing not to push me, she shrugged her shoulders and turned away to saunter back out of the gym. "Suit yourself. As your not-so-official co-coach, I'm ordering you to an ice bath and a good dinner before bed. Food will be here in about an hour."
I nodded and moved to put my earbuds back in, but Sang's voice stopped me. "Oh, and Asher?"
"Yes?" I asked roughly.
She took a deep breath. "I don't know what you said to them today, but thank you. They left me alone. Whatever they said back to you that has you wound so tight, it's not true."
My eyes bounced back and forth between hers, immediately spotting the honesty looking back at me. Curious, I couldn't help but ask, "How do you know that?"
She smiled a sad smile. "I know that because you're you. If it weren't for you and the rest of the guys..." she shook her head. "I don't know where I'd be. Probably in an insane asylum somewhere. Even if you don't feel it, you deserve the world in my eyes."
I felt myself fall a little harder. I didn't say anything, just spun around and prepared to throw out some more combinations of jabs and hooks. As soon as my earbuds were back in, one was once again pulled out. I felt Sang's steady breathing hit my back as she whispered, "Don't forget to work on your squats. Your ass may be nice, but it's not that nice."
I threw a glare that held little heat over my shoulder as she left, snickering up a storm.
Little minx. When I knew she was no longer in the room, I tipped my head up to the ceiling and released a breath. At first, I was praying for patience, but as the seconds went by, my smile grew little-by-little until my deep chuckle echoed inside the quiet home-based gym. Just like she no doubt knew it would, her comment released the pent up anger plaguing me.
If she thought I deserved the world, would she think I deserved her? Maybe if one of us decided to stop tip-toeing around the thick tension that always surrounded us, we would find out.
Decision made, I squared my stance and threw a right hook against the bag. After the big game, I'd show her that we were more than just friends. And if she didn't feel the same as I felt about her...I'd figure out what to do. No more hiding and no more faking.
Sang, without a doubt, was worth it, and after her little declaration, I've come to understand that I just might be too.