Chapter 4 What The Hell Did I Do
Kieran’s POV
Pain was the first thing I felt when I opened my eyes, pain behind my eyelids, my skull and somewhere deep in my soul. I groaned and shoved my face deeper into the pillow.
Big mistake, the room spun immediately. “Jesus Christ,” I muttered.
“You alive?”
I cracked one eye open. Landon Brooks sat sprawled across the armchair near the window, eating cereal straight from the box like a raccoon with no survival instincts. Sunlight poured into Milo’s guest room. "Why are you here?” I asked hoarsely.
Landon shrugged. “Milo said you nearly died trying to fight his staircase at three in the morning.”
“That staircase started it.”
“Mm.”
I sat up slowly, pressing a hand against my forehead. My Shirt from last night was somewhere on the floor beside an overturned lamp. My mouth tasted like regret and expensive whiskey. Fragments of the party flashed through my head, music, Milo screaming about somebody breaking his mother’s chandelier, Theo dancing on a table. A dark hallway, Gray eyes, not grey Asher Carter’s blue eyes.
My stomach dropped violently. “Oh no.”
Landon looked up. “That dramatic reaction tells me you remembered something.”
I stared at the wall then another flash hit me. A bedroom upstairs. The bathroom door is opening. Asher was standing there in black pants and a white polo looking annoyed. My brain short circuited, I remembered grabbing his collar arguing, and he shoving me. I remembered laughing. Then “Oh my God.”
Landon snorted. “Relax. You probably just drunk texted somebody.” I slowly turned toward him “Horrible things happened last night.”
Now Landon looked interested “What kind of horrible things?”
I opened my mouth. Closed it. I couldn't bear to say a word. “I can’t say it.”
“Kieran.”
“I physically cannot.”
“You hooked up with somebody ugly, didn’t you?”
“What? No!”
“Then why do you look like your soul left your body?”
Because somewhere between tequila and poor decision making, I had apparently lost my damn mind.
Landon tossed the cereal box aside. “Okay. Start talking.”
I dragged both hands down my face. “I made a mistake.”
“You make mistakes constantly.”
“This one was catastrophic.”
“That bad?”
I looked him dead in the eye. "I kissed Asher Carter.”
Silence. Then Landon burst out laughing. Not normal laughter, violent laughter. The kind where his entire body folded forward. “Oh my God,” he wheezed. “No way.”
“I’m serious.”
That only made him laugh harder. "Kieran...” he gasped. “You? Asher Carter? The mascot?”
“I KNOW WHO HE IS, LANDON.”
He nearly fell off the chair. "You’re lying.”
“I wish I were.”
As his laughter slowly faded he realised I wasn't joking. "…Wait.” I stared at him miserably.
“Oh my God,” he whispered.
“Exactly.”
Landon blinked several times."You kissed Asher Carter.”
“Yes.”
“The Asher Carter.”
“There is only one!”
“The quiet little sick kid?”
“STOP DESCRIBING HIM.”
Landon looked horrified for exactly two seconds before laughing again. I grabbed Milo’s pillow and launched it at his head. "This isn’t funny!”
“It’s a little funny.”
“I’m having a crisis!”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“No, you don’t understand.” I stood abruptly, pacing the room. “I remember it.”
That was the problem. If I had blacked out, maybe I could’ve blamed the alcohol completely but I remembered everything. The way Asher had looked at me. The way he argued back without backing down. The way his voice dropped when he got irritated. And worst of all, the kiss. Warm. Sharp. Electric. My chest tightened painfully.
“I’m straight,” I said immediately.
Landon stared. "…Okay?”
“I am.”
“Sure.”
“This doesn’t mean anything.”
“You’re literally spiralling because I kissed a guy!”
“You were drunk.”
“I’ve been drunk before! I’ve never attacked Carter!”
Landon rubbed a hand over his face. "Maybe you were experimenting.”
“I wasn’t experimenting!”
“You kissed him.”
“I panicked!”
“You usually punch people when you panic.” “That’s different.” he continued.
Landon looked way too entertained for somebody supposed to be my best friend. "You know what I think?”
“I don’t care.”
“I think you’re freaking out because you liked it.”
I stopped pacing so fast that I nearly gave myself whiplash. "What?”
“You heard me.”
“That’s insane.”
Landon leaned back casually. “Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Kieran.”
“No.”
“You keep talking about the kiss.”
“Because it happened!”
"You just can't stop talking about it."
Heat rushed straight to my face. "That is not the point.”
“Oh, it’s absolutely the point.”
I grabbed the nearest object, a hockey sock and threw it at him. He dodged easily."You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re defensive.”
“I am not defensive.”
“You sound defensive.”
I pointed at him threateningly. “One more word and I’ll fight you.”
Landon grinned. “See? Defensive.”
I hated him, actually hated him. I sank back onto the edge of the bed and stared at the floor, none of this made sense. Asher Carter wasn’t even remotely my type, not that I had a type. Okay, maybe I did. My type was definitely girls, blonde girls, brunette girls. Any girls not Asher freaking Carter. And yet every time I closed my eyes that stupid kiss replayed again. The way Asher’s hand had tightened against my shirt. My entire body reacted instantly. Absolutely not.
“Nope,” I muttered aloud.
Landon frowned. “What?”
“I’m deleting last night from existence.”
“That’s not how memory works.”
“I’ll find a way."
“You still have practice today.”
I froze. Practice with Asher. My soul attempted to leave my body again. "I can’t go.”
Landon stared at me like I’d announced retirement. "You’re the captain.”
“I’ll fake my death.”
“You’re being insane.”
“You don’t understand,” I groaned. “What if he tells people?”
Landon shrugged. “Wouldn’t blame him. You apparently assaulted the mascot.”
“I did not assault him.”
“You kissed him against a wall.”
“That sounds terrible when you say it like that.”
“Because it is terrible.”
I stood again immediately. "Oh my God. Do you think he hates me?”
Landon blinked. “Kieran.”
“What?”
“You hate everyone."
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. It just is.”
Landon studied me for a long moment then his expression shifted slightly. "Oh, you’re really screwed.”
“What does that mean?”
“You care.”
“I do not.”
“You’re panicking about his feelings.”
“I’m panicking about mine!”
“That’s worse.”
I groaned loud enough to concern medical professionals.
An hour later, I still felt like death. Unfortunately, Coach Hale believed in suffering which explained why I was dragging myself toward Crestwood’s ice rink instead of peacefully disappearing into the woods forever. Players crowded the locker room already. Milo looked suspiciously energetic for somebody who hosted a party that nearly became a crime scene.
Theo waved at me. “Morning, Captain.”
I grunted. Milo narrowed his eyes. “You look haunted.”
“I am haunted.”
“By what?”
“Your alcohol.”
“Fair.”
I pulled my jersey over my head and tried not to think which became impossible the second the locker room door opened. Asher Carter walked in. Everything inside me stopped functioning especially my lungs and brain. Possibly my heartbeat. He wore the Crestwood mascot hoodie again, dark hair slightly messy, expression guarded. And suddenly all I could see was him in that bedroom. Those blue eyes, that mouth. Oh no. No no no. This was catastrophic, he looked up. Our eyes locked instantly and to my absolute horror, he smirked subtly.
“Morning, Hampton.”
And suddenly I wanted to die.
