270: Asher
She’s half asleep in the passenger seat, head tipped against the window, her lashes casting soft shadows on flushed cheeks. I don’t say anything just drive slower than I need to. The city’s quiet tonight, hushed like it knows something sacred happened. Like it’s giving us room to breathe.
When I park in the driveway and cut the engine, I don’t wake her right away. I just watch.
–
She danced like a star tonight. No like something even stars would envy. And now she’s coming down from it, glowing in the aftermath.
Her eyes open slowly, like she senses I’m watching. “We’re home?”
“Yeah,” I say, reaching over to push a strand of hair behind her ear. “Come on, angel.”
She hums sleepily, blinking as I open her door and help her out. She doesn’t say much, just leans against me, letting me guide her inside.
Inside, the house is warm. Dim. Quiet. I kick off my shoes and start to take off my jacket, but when I glance back at her, she’s still standing in the middle of the entryway, swaying just slightly. Drained.
Beautiful.
She smiles at me, soft and tired and trusting.
“I got you,” I whisper.
I walk over and kneel in front of her, fingers brushing the hem of her black leggings.
She breathes in sharply.
I know what she’s expecting – what she thinks this is.
But it’s not about that,
Not tonight.
Tonight is about her.
I lift one foot at a time and pull her socks off slowly, rubbing over her arches with my thumbs. She
sighs that kind of involuntary sound that tells me how much she needed this. Then I rise to my
–
feet and kiss her tired shoulder, then the spot just beneath her ear.
“Let me take care of you.”
She nods, small and silent.
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Chapter 270: Asher
I untic and unzip her hoodie slowly, kissing the fading bruise on her collarbone from a missed lift in rehearsal last week. The angry red mark on her rib. The tension in her shoulders. I trail my lips over every sore spot like I can take the ache from her with my mouth alone. Then I pick her up- one smooth motion and she doesn’t protest. Her arms loop around my neck, her head resting against my shoulder.
I carry her to the bathroom and set her down gently on the bench beside the tub.
The water runs hot. I add oils that smell like vanilla and almond, a ridiculous amount of bubbles,
and her favorite bath salts. Steam curls up into the air, soft and lazy.
She starts to reach for her underwear, but I stop her.
“Let me.”
She shivers when my fingers brush her hip bones. I peel the last of her clothes off like I’m unwrapping something sacred. She sinks into the tub with a sigh that could melt the walls.
I kneel beside it, roll my sleeves up, and grab a washcloth.
She leans forward slightly and I start with her shoulders, rubbing gentle circles. Down her back. Over her arms. Í kiss her skin as I go, slow and reverent. She closes her eyes and leans into every touch
like it’s grounding her.
When I reach for her hair, she tilts her head back willingly. I wet it, add shampoo, and begin to wash it with slow, firm strokes of my fingers. Her mouth falls open just a little, and I feel her toes curl against the side of the tub.
“You’re going to make me cry,” she whispers.”
I smile and kiss her temple. “You already did that to me. Back on that stage.”
She opens her eyes, dazed and soft, and I swear there’s a whole galaxy looking back at me.
“I love you,” I say. Not because she needs to hear it, but because I need to say it.
She nods, voice tight. “I love you too.”
I rinse her hair, gently cupping the water over her crown. She lets me. Lets me hold her. Lets me care for her in the way I’ve been dying to since the day I met her.
Eventually, I leave the room just long enough to grab a small box of candles from the hallway
cabinet. I line them along the edge of the tub, light them one by one, then flick off the main light. The glow turns everything gold.
Then I climb into the tub behind her.
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Chapter 270: Asher
She makes a noise–something small and vulnerable
– when I puff her back against my de
I wrap my arms around her, hands splaying over her belly, then sliding op to cradle here. Is my chin on her shoulder. The bubbles shift between us but the heat holds.
She melts.
Melts into me like she belongs there. Like she’s finally safe enough to unravel.
We sit in silence, the water lapping gently at our skin, the candlelight flickering over her was alr and flushed cheeks. I rub slow circles over her back, over her arms, over the insides of her wrists. 1 trace my thumbs over her knuckles, over the calluses from years of training. I Xis the back of her neck and let the heat soak into our bones.
After a while, she turns to face me, curling into my lap.
Her legs drape over mine and I pull her closer, our foreheads resting together.
We don’t speak.
We don’t need to.
Because everything she just danced, everything she just gave – it lives here now, in the spaces between us.
And I will spend the rest of my life making sure she knows:
She’ll never have to come down from that high alone.
Not while I’m breathing.
Veronica Allen–Jones
I love the way Asher loves her, it’s all encompassing. So beautiful.
