The next night, Asher and I stood outside of Brent’s dorm, ready to sneak inside.
“Are you sure want to do this?” Asher asked me. “You look like you might be sick.”
For me, this was less about wanting to do this, and more about needing to. For Aimee. For myself.
“I’ll be alright,” I said.
He stared at me with a heavy gaze, watchful for any sign of deceit. But I wasn’t lying. No matter what happened, I would be fine – after.
A warm hand touched my arm at the elbow, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I had been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t seen Asher move.
With my reaction, he frowned deeply. “We can turn back. Think of something else.”
I knew he was uncertain. I couldn’t tell him what I meant to do, which unnerved him.
But the true source of his trepidation was borne f
