Between guilt and desire

Between guilt and desire
Asher's POV

We pulled up in front of the safe house…one of my family’s old hideouts on the outskirts. I stepped out first and walked ahead.

“We’ll stay here tonight,” I said flatly to Elias and Camila the moment we got inside. “The mansion’s obviously not an option.”

They bobbed their heads like synchronised lizards. Have they been practising or something?

Leading Camila down the hallway, I opened the door to a guest room. “You can sleep here,” I said. “Clean sheets, fresh towels in the bathroom. If you need anything, call Elias.”

“Asher…” she called out, clutching her bag like it was a shield.

“Goodnight, Camila,” I cut in, turning to leave.

“I’m sorry, please.”

The words made me stop mid-step.

Of course she’d say that. I could almost hear the cracks in her voice… that familiar mix of guilt and confusion. For a second, I considered not turning back. But I did. Slowly.

“I thought it was a harmless meet-up,” she said quickly. “I didn’t… I didn’t think he’d turn it into something else.”

I said nothing, just listened.

“I wanted to tell you,” she added, voice breaking. “I just… I was scared you’d get angry.”

Scared I’d get angry?

If only she knew how deep this anger ran… not just at her, but at myself… Maybe I should've explained better to her.

I exhaled, long and heavy, the kind of sigh that comes from exhaustion more than rage. “You should’ve trusted me enough to tell me,” I said quietly. “Sleep tight.”

Bang. I slammed the door shut with a loud thud. I feel bad that I'm acting this way towards her, but I'm left with no choice. I feel so pissed at the same time. Ugrrr.

Frederick knew exactly what he was doing. That bastard had been baiting me for months, waiting for one wrong move. And he’d found it… not in me, but in her.

I knew Camila hadn’t slept with him; she wasn’t that kind of woman. But going against my orders? Meeting him behind my back? That was a no. No. No.

And the worst part?

I couldn’t even bring myself to hate her for it.

And that… that was the problem.

I think I'm beginning to fall for Camila. Uggrr.

\----

Camila's POV

If not for Asher, I don’t know what could’ve become of me out there tonight. Those reporters were like vultures, ready to devour me alive.

He didn’t have to step in, but he did… And now, sitting in this quiet room, all I could think about was how bad he must be hurting because of me.

The press. The humiliation. His name being associated with another scandal he didn’t cause.

But seriously… Does he really think I’d actually… cheat on him with his brother? God, the thought alone made me sick.

I hate this… being caught in the middle of their twisted family drama when I have much more important things to focus on. If I’m ever going to survive this mess, I need to make sure Asher is okay with me again.

What should I do? What should I do? Gotcha.

Dinner.

Nobody’s eaten since we got back. This is my chance.

I hurried to the kitchen, hoping for a miracle, and opened the fridge. My shoulders dropped in defeat.

The place was almost empty — a lonely carton of eggs, a half bottle of milk, and something that might’ve been lettuce in a past life. I poked it with a spoon. Nope. Definitely not dead.

“Oh great,” I muttered, narrowing my eyes. “Let's see what we can do with this.”

I stared at them for what felt like an eternity. After some creative thinking, I threw together the best thing I could manage… scrambled eggs with a questionable twist of herbs and a piece of toast that was half-burnt but full of love.

Once I was done, I called Elias, who looked about ready to collapse from exhaustion. “Eat something,” I told him, shoving a plate his way. He blinked, then nodded gratefully.

The rest I carried carefully upstairs, toward Asher’s room.

“Asher?” I called out, stepping into the room after knocking for close to twenty-five seconds with no reply. “Are you in?”

No reply. What's he up to?

I was about to leave when Asher walked out from the bathroom. A towel wrapped around his hips, with water still dripping from his hair. Sweet mercy… The man looked like a walking sin… All broad shoulders, wet skin and my goodness… six freaking abs! Six! Each one of them mocking my self-control. Dear God, help me!

“I… I brought dinner,” I stammered, clutching the tray like a lifeline. “And I also wanted to say sorry… about… today.”

Okay, that's it.

Asher didn’t say anything. Just looked at me… that unreadable, piercing look that made my knees question their stability.

I set the tray on the bedside table as fast as humanly possible. “I’ll leave now.” I turned, ready to flee the scene and bury myself in embarrassment forever, when he pulled me closer to his chest and snaked his arm around my waist. What?

My heart lurched like a rollercoaster free-falling down a steep slope. My goodness!

“Swear you don’t have another agenda barging in like that?” His voice came out low, teasing but edged with something darker.

I blinked, flustered. “Wh…what? No! I knocked, you just…”

Before I could finish, his lips brushed mine in a calm kiss.

The world tilted. Did he just…? Yeah, he did.

Just as immediately as it came, he pulled away, but I could still feel the imprint of his lips on mine.

I should’ve walked away, but no, I didn't. Instead, I unbelievably yearned for more. Standing on my toes, I cupped Asher's cheeks and kissed him back. This time it wasn't slow; it was hungrier. It felt more like we both wanted it so badly and had been holding back for so long.

Asher wrapped his arms around my waist and deepened the kiss, swirling his tongue into my mouth with the motion of someone who was prophesied to die tonight. I let him.

Two steps backward, my back was against the wall. He raised my left leg to his waist level and made me wrap my hands around his neck.

“Mmhm…” I moaned under my breath as I bit his lips even more. The room was quiet… All I could hear was the sloppy sound of our lips crashing against each other.

It was an amazing feeling; I didn't want it to stop. But then….

Like a gong in a quiet temple, realisation hit me… He's a Reyes.

My eyes widened mid-kiss; I quickly pulled out and stepped away. “I'm sorry,” I muttered, my heart racing fast like a revving engine. “I can't do this…”

“But why?” Asher said, coming closer.

“Please…” I raised my hand slightly. “Don't.”

He stopped halfway and just stared at me.

“I'm really sorry. I just can't do this.” With that, I left.

Whatever these feelings are, it needs to be buried… before it ruins us both.