Page 119 of Gravity

My heart sinks. “Ash, people don’t think that.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

The heavy weight of his remark wraps around my heart. The melancholy in this booth right now is pulling me down, and the ache in my chest that is only for him is crushing. I feel so helpless.

“Asher, talk to me. I’m your friend.”

His eyes flare at me, and his words come out bitterly. “You stopped being my friend the day you got your dick wet with my sister.”

“Don’t say it like that. It’s not like that.”

“I don’t see it any other way.”

I sigh, defeated before this has truly begun. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”

“It doesn’t. We can be like we once were. We can be those two guys who sat at the bar drinking and talking about pretty girls. We can be those two boys who grew up as best friends. You have the power to make that change, Gray.”

“How?” I ask, wanting to get back to us being like we once were, regardless of the challenges he faces ahead of him. But the look in his bloodshot eyes now tells me that his answer is one I’ll never agree to.

“Leave her,” he growls.

Shaking my head, I now wish that the glass of whiskey he’s holding was my own. “I won’t do that. I love her. I’m not breaking what I have with Nora just because it will suit you.”

He leans forward, displeasure now clouding his features. "So, you're saying she means more to you than the years of our brotherhood?"

"This isn't a competition, Asher. I can still have a friendship with you but love her also."

“No!” he yells, slamming his hand down on the table. “She's my baby sister!"

"Who is no longer a little girl. You can't protect her forever."

“And neither can you. Look at you,” he spits, the evil strike behind his words. It’s now that I realize whatever personality I just had has completely gone, and that reasoning with him now will be pointless. Whatever I say will be wrong.

“You are not a man. You're pathetic," he says, slurring.

"Is that right?"

"You weren't even a SEAL. You’re just some scrubby bartender who took the easy way out in life. You’ve never even fought for your country."

"You don't have to be a SEAL to be a man, Asher. And if we are talking about being one here, then you're not setting a good example of one right now either."

“Oh, forgive me. Daddy will not be proud.” He laughs. Fucking laughs.

That only gets my back up more. It’s one thing disrespecting me, but no way in hell do you disrespect the dead. With anger growing deeper and faster in my chest, I lean forward and spit my words out, hating that I’ve already got eyes on me from those who are trying to enjoy their lunch.

“What the fuck has happened to you? Did Nora’s words the other day not mean anything? Where is the respect of the man I once knew? I know you’re troubled, Asher, but right now, your behavior is fucking disgusting.”

“My behavior? Right.” He laughs again, and I’m so close to grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt and pinning him against the back of the booth. “You have no right to talk about my behavior when you have done what you have. If anyone is in the wrong here, Grayson, it’s not me.”

I don’t say anything. I can’t. What good will it do? If I say nothing, he drinks. If I give him home truths, he drinks. It’s a constant battle, and one I don’t wish to take part in.

Leaving the booth, Asher staggers over to the bar, slamming his hand down and yelling for service. Grumbles of annoyance start to filter through the eating area, and I know it’s only a matter of time before it kicks off between us, only I’m unsure who is more likely to start it: him or me.

When Ryan comes around the corner and looks at Asher, he shoots me a look, asking for my approval. Giving him the nod, I leave the booth and make my way over to the side of Asher. His low chesty growl tells me he doesn’t like my presence, but I couldn’t give two fucks.

“So, I’m with Nora, and you feel like I’ve betrayed you.” I nod. “I probably have, but I’m not going to apologize for something that makes me happy and I know makes her happy in return. But let’s just get one thing straight here, Asher, and look at the bigger picture—the one I believe is at the root of your problem but that you’re just too afraid to admit.”

“Oh, do tell.”