Beyond the Horizon (The Sons of Templar MC Book 4) by Anne Malcom Read Free Book Online

lips stayed pursed. Nymphomaniac Lily was slowly disappearing, the regular, awkward shy and decidedly not nympho Lily was returning. Shame would be well on its way. For now, I bathed in the warm glow of the sunshine, of Asher’s touch, chipping away at my ice cold grief.
    I pulled on my leggings awkwardly when he handed them to me. Once I had myself decent, Asher stepped in front of me, hands at my neck. He searched my face with worry.
    “You okay, flower?” he asked softly after a moment of silence.
    That was a good question.
    “Right now, in this moment, yes,” I told him quietly. “On the whole ... not so much.” The honest statement came out of me automatically. I couldn’t hide with him. It was the first time I’d made any kind of admission I was struggling. That this was real.
    He furrowed his brows. “You need to get home. To bed,” he decided. “My bed,” he clarified.
    Bed.
    Home.
    “Fuck,” I exclaimed loudly, remembering who I had in my bed at my home.
    Asher’s brow rose. “Did you just curse, flower?” he teased.
    I didn’t have time to revel in how attractive his already smoking face was when amused.
    “I need to go home. To my home, like now,” I demanded quickly.
    “Okay, we’ll go there, if that’s what you want,” he agreed, beginning to turn us to his bike.
    I clutched his hand. “Not we … just me,” I told him firmly.
    He frowned slightly. “Not leavin’ you, babe, not again,” he declared roughly.
    “Well, you’re not coming into my house. I’ve got ... um … company,” I mumbled.
    I cringed at how that sounded. It sounded like I was some kind of hussy. Red crept up my cheeks.
    Asher’s face turned blank. “I fuckin’ know that,” he ground out. “That certain visitor will be learning just how unwelcome he is when we get back.”
    I gaped at him. There were a multitude of things wrong with that statement.
    “How do you ‘fuckin’ know that ’?” I used air quotes, mimicking his voice with sarcasm I didn’t know I was capable of.
    “I followed you home. Sat outside your place, waiting for fuckface to leave. I was dis-fucking-pleased when he didn’t,” he ground out.
    I only stared at him. “You followed me home,” I repeated quietly.
    “Yep. Not surprised you didn’t notice, state you were in, the fact that Abercrombie didn’t is a testament to what a douche he is,” he clipped.
    I let out a breath. “I do not need this pissing contest right now,” I snapped. “I also don’t have time to educate you on the fact that sitting outside someone’s house all night is firmly in Criminal Minds territory,” I added seriously. “I need to go home, alone and sort out my head.”
    Asher’s face softened a smidgeon. “Fuck, babe, I know that. That you need time. It doesn’t mean I’m gonna like your boyfriend being the one comforting you, not me,” he said fiercely.
    I pointed to the bike. “Pretty sure that wasn’t Aiden just then, that was you,” I informed him, and myself. Mental forehead slap. I was a horrible person. I shelved that bit of self-loathing for later when I wasn’t on the side of a road.
    Asher’s face turned stormy. “I’m not having this shit out here. Get on the bike, babe,” he echoed my internal sentiment.
    I let out a breath of relief and took the helmet he offered me.
    On the ride, the usual feeling of freedom didn’t sink in. Pressed into Asher’s warm and hard back, I realized the magnitude of everything that had just happened. Asher and me. After three years. It was amazing, life shattering, like no time had passed. He seemed to feel something for me. More than I’d thought. Not what I felt for him. The depth of feeling that had settled in my soul after one night wasn’t something he could possibly feel. I was embarrassed I even felt it. It wasn’t just that, I had tears prickling at the corners of my eyes and shame burning in my belly.
    I had a boyfriend.
    A boyfriend who was caring, supportive, and in my bed