Anyone But Me

by J.D. Frost

I can’t decide if they’re so far up his ass that they’re forced to find everything he says hilarious, or if their IQs have significantly lowered from one too many hits on the field.

No matter what I do, I’m his. His to mess with, his to torture, his to hurt. I made peace with that long ago, resigned myself to the fact that while I’m in this town, there’s no getting away from Asher Brooks.

“I’ve never known a kid who reads so much,” Sienna says, coming to stand beside me. “She just loves it, I guess.” And while that’s true, I know there’s a whole other reason behind it; it’s an escape, a way for her to live in another reality, even if only for a short time.

Well, I guess that makes sense. Rich, beautiful assholes are bound to be drawn together.

God, I’ve never wanted to laugh so much in my life. And not the good kind of laugh. The bitter, dark kind that only happens when you’re right on the verge of losing your shit. And I am. On the verge, I mean.

“It’s because I can’t stand the thought of anyone hurting you, okay?” His throat bobs with an audible click. “Anyone but me.”

Is that a thing? You reach a certain level of wealth and you have to buy a water fountain?

“Oakley…” he whispers, panting breaths hitting my lips. “Don’t you get it? I would hurt anyone for you. Anyone. All you have to do is tell me who it is.”

“Tell me something,” he says after a while. I grip his fingers, trace the outline of his knuckles with my thumb. “Like what?” “Anything. A thought, a feeling. Something that makes you smile, something that makes you mad as hell. I just wanna know you, Oakley.”