His white-knight syndrome is on full display since Honey decided she needed a break from all the chivalrous shit. Can't say I blame her. It must be tough trying to date someone who is so unintentionally perfect.
I type out a quick response:
Jamie:We will.
That's all I write because what else is there to say? That I’m grateful? That watching Zach immediately spring into action—calling lawyers, reviewing documents, planning strategy—makes me feel like the useless piece of shit I've always been?
No. That's exactly what your father wants you to believe. You're going back and proving everyone wrong.
I press into Zach's messages next.
Zach:Lawyer says we need to file a counter-motion. Where are you? We need to talk strategy.
I type out the only appropriate response.
Jamie:Call off the lawyers. I’m handling this. Tell Tiff I love her
Zach:What does that mean? Jamie, don't do anything stupid.
Too late. I'm already doing something stupid, but for once, it's my stupid decision to make.
As the car pulls up to Hope's private airport, I spot Asher's jet immediately—sleek, black, impossibly expensive. It is the epitome of everything I used to take advantage of.
He's standing on the tarmac in designer sunglasses and a leather jacket, looking like he just walked off a photoshoot instead of dropping everything to fly across the country for me.
“Nicks!” He grins, stretching his arms out wide, expecting me to accept a bro hug.
“Asher,” I mutter, walking past him, straight to the jet.
“Wow.” He blows out an annoyed breath. “Good to see you too, Asshole. Next time I'll save my jet for someone who cares.”
I grip the railing, heading up the stairs to his jet, without looking back. “Oh, please. You'd never leave me. I'm the only person who puts up with all your shit.”
He lets out a low, hearty chuckle. “You've got that right, brother,” he says, following up closely behind me.
After being greeted by an air hostess, I stop and turn, holding out my hand. “Seriously, thanks for this, man. I know it's short notice.”
He takes my hand, finally pulling me into that bro hug. “Eh, what else am I going to do? Actually attend lectures?”
He barks out a laugh at the truth of his situation. Since getting into Covey U, he’s spent most of his time traveling up to Southern Collegiate to see some girl. It's not like his attendance at Covey U matter, though. The guy will always earn a pass with the Hastings name attached to him.
I pull away from the hug and walk down the aisle, dropping into my usual seat with the cream leather and black stitching. Ash follows, uncorking a bottle of whiskey as he goes. He sets out a few glasses, then sits beside me and pushes one across the console.
I catch it, but I'm not planning on having a drink. If I'm meeting with my father, I need to be sharp and on point.
“So, how's your new fam? Are they still worth giving up everything for?”
“Yes,” I answer with no hesitation. “They're—” I pause, trying to find words that don't sound completely pathetic. “They're everything I didn't know I needed, Asher.”
It's all I say.
The silence stretches between us, and when I look back at Asher, he's smiling at me. “I'm happy for you, dude. I've never seen you care about anything other than yourself before. It's good to see you can grow. Well, at least in some places. You might need to see a doctor for your other problems.” He raises a brow, his eyes dropping to the wood table covering my crotch.
I roll my eyes, knocking his foot under the table between us. “What about you? How's that girl you've been obsessed with for years? Briar, right?”
Asher’s smile immediately falls, and he groans, pouring more than his fair share of whiskey into his glass.
“Doesn't matter.”