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“I know, I know. And I promise to behave myself.” I cross my fingers behind my back, just in case.
I’m not going to embarrass him or anything, but I’m in Vegas. Sin City. The Entertainment Capital of the World.
What happens here doesn’thaveto stay here, and I plan on having one hell of a good time tonight so I have some stories to bring back home with me.
Chapter 4: Asher Nash
Dirty. Extra Dirty.
I tug at my collar as I give myself a once-over.
Good enough, I guess.
I wouldn’t even go to this stupid thing tonight if my brother wasn’t one of the chairmen of the event, but since he’s notjustmy brother but also my head coach, I kind ofhaveto go.
Lincoln will be there with his wife, Jolene. My parents will both be there, along with my brother Grayson and his wife, Ava. It’s a family affair, with the exception of my other brother, Spencer, who is in San Diego as he starts his season with a new team.
And so I’m sort of going under protest, which is why I chose threads that would annoy my brothers to no end. It’s honestly what motivates me to make the majority of my fashion choices—that and trying to lighten the mood around me. Ever try to have a serious conversation with someone when you’re wearing a shirt covered in cat faces? Worksalmostevery time.
I kept it more subtle tonight than usual, anyway—at least in terms of animal print. I chose a paisley gold jacket and paired it with a white shirt and sand-colored pants.
My hair is done in my usualrolled-out-of-bed-this-waystyle, though honestly, I spent a good fifteen minutes making it look this good.
I meet my dad in my kitchen. He sort of fell from grace with some scandals over the last few years, and when he and my mom got divorced, he asked if we should live together. I didn’t have a great reason to say no since it was around the same time I was suspended.
It’s not like my bank account is padded, exactly. I lost an entire year of income during that suspension. I’m not smart and responsible with money like Spencer, and I’m not a natural leader like Lincoln. I’m not the social guy who brings the party with him everywhere he goes like Grayson.
I’m Asher. I’m the youngest and fastest of the four Nash brothers, and I’m the adventurous risk-taker who sometimes makes impulsive decisions butalmostalways comes out on top.
I hate it when people call me Ash Nash, and I hate it even more when people call me Asher Nasher.
I don’t mind having a roommate, but having a roommate who’s also my dad can get…annoying. He doesn’t care who I bring back, but when I walk a woman out of my bedroom in the morning only for her to run intomy dad, things can get awkward.
So I’ve taken to finding alternative places to hook up.
It’s been a while since the last time I hooked up with somebody, though, and I’m getting restless. I guess I’ve always been labeled a player, but I’ve had a front row seat to watch all three of my brothers settle down over the last couple years, and that sort of makes me feel like I’m next.
The problem is, well, I live with my dad.
Not because he’s a cockblock but because of other things.
For one, he instilled in all four of his sons that the game of football comes first above all else. He made themistake—his words—of knocking Mom up with Lincoln when they were young, and he didn’t like being tied down when he had a game to focus on. Four years later, Grayson came along…so it couldn’t have beenallbad. But still, he made it clear that kids make everything harder, and he seemed to blame Lincoln for that. It’s probably why Lincoln waited until he was thirty-six to have his first kid, and thatstillseems far too soon to me.
And for another thing, after forty years of marriage, my parents got divorced.
They were much younger than my current age of twenty-eight when they first met, so maybe they didn’t have the best decision-making skills. But that didn’t give them the happy ending they were hoping for, and I guess that left their four boys with scars.
It left me with some, anyway.
Maybe it doesn’t affect the others the way it does me. Since I’m the youngest, I was around for more of the stage where things started to fall apart. Lincoln’s nine years older than me, so he was already playing in the NFL by the time I hit puberty.
And I guess watching it fall apart made me see that commitment really isn’t for me.
I think it also made me see that sometimes walking away is easier than dealing with conflict. And that’s not the kind of personality trait that does well when it comes to commitment.
I’m not picking sides, but if I were, I’d choose Mom’s. My dad can be a dick, but mostly we’re a couple of single dudes having a good time. On my dime, usually, but it’s a small sacrifice to make given the fact that he’s my dad. Is he perfect? No. But has he been there for me through some of the most difficult moments of my life? Yes.
I’d been planning to bring a date with me tonight, but when I looked through my contacts, nobody was calling out to me.
