Page 57 of Trailer Trash

“And not touch me.”

“Hands-free. Unless you get drunk again and beg me like you did tonight.”

She laughs. “I’ll be so mad at you tomorrow.”

But then, she closes her eyes and drifts asleep.

She thinks I’m just another horny guy. Somehow, that’s less threatening than the truth: she has all my attention. No one else. And I still haven’t fucked her.

Far in the distance, the elevator pings.

I roll out of bed, careful not to wake her. I smile as Asher lifts his chin.

“Want a drink?” I grab him a bottle and set it on the kitchen counter, where he leans against it.

“Goddamn,” he murmurs, studying my scars. “I love it.”

Something about my best friend saying that gives me a sense of peace. “Thanks, I guess. It’s not as pretty as yours anymore.”

Asher does have a pretty face. If we looked in the mirror, we’d be almost identical. Both rich, too. He’s five years younger, though. No tats. No scars. I don’t think he’s ever had a sunburn. The guy’s perfect. Except — he’s fucking dangerous.

People think I’m impulsive, then they meet Asher and find out what that really means.

“How ya been?” he asks.

“Sober, actually. There’s a girl in my bed. She helps me.”

Asher cringes. “Helps you?”

“Yeah.” I pull out my phone and shoot off a text. “There. I just asked for my old job back.”

“No shit?”

I hold up my phone to show him.

“Wow.”

I chuckle at his reaction. “You didn’t think I would get a job with Grayson at the docks, did ya?”

“No, guess not.”

My phone buzzes.

“Yep. Frida said I can come work with her.”

“I guess you really like this girl if you’re willing to work with your ex. Do you think her new husband will be mad?”

“Nah. I got an invite to the wedding. I don’t think Matteo sees me as a threat.”

“You aren’t. She’s the one he should worry about.”

I nod enthusiastically. Asher gets it.

“Besides, I don’t have a lot of other skills.”

“Maybe you could go to college and become a doctor like Jagger.”

I laugh mockingly. “Okay, go to college with me.”