PRESENT

There is good and bad in everything you do. The thing about life is that you can't have one without the other. How can we know what it means for something to be good if we haven't experienced the bad? How can we know what it means for something to be bad if we haven't experienced the good? The two co-exist in everything you do or say and it's an essential part of life. I get that — appreciate it even.

Right now, though? Not so much.

I know I'm not perfect and I can't possibly win every case I put my heart into but I really hate losing. It means failing the women who entrusted me to protect them when the rest of the world failed to. It means they won't get their redemption or make their peace and I played a hand in that. Being a lawyer is not for the faint of heart. You need to be firm, edgy, and confident at all times. You need to keep your head up and come back stronger when the court works against you. You need to be absolutely lethal.

In a way, becoming a lawyer healed me. It brought out the toughest parts of me I didn't even know existed until I had to present them in court. I learned that I still have the feisty and competitive streak I used to have pre-abusive relationship. Becoming a lawyer showed me I'm still as strong as I once was and that I'm capable of lending my strength to others. That's why, despite losing this case and my client panicking, I keep my face set like stone and don't give any of these fuckers the satisfaction of breaking down like I want to. I can save that for later.

"Your honour." I try again. We've already taken two recesses and I know this case is coming to a close. I just wish it were working in our favour. "My client and I have brought forth tangible evidence to support her claims of abuse. The chain of threatening texts, the hospital records of monthly admittance, and the very prominent injuries on Mrs. Scott all lead to an obvious conclusion."

"And we have supporting evidence to explain all of that." My enemy of the hour, Martin Reese, announces. I glare at him from the corner of my eye. He knows as well as I do that this poor woman is being abused by her soon to be ex-husband. Why the fuck is he defending that scumbag? Just because of a nice big pay check? What a fucking lowlife.

Martin presents a series of papers to the judge. "You'll see here the receipts Mr. Scott has from payments to a technician to track down his phone. It went missing during the same time and date that Mrs. Scott received the threatening texts allegedly from her husband. Someone else had my client's phone at the time and was obviously sending mindless texts. There is no evidence showcasing that the texts were sent by Mr. Scott himself simply because his phone was not in his possession at the time. As for the injuries and hospital admittances, Mrs. Scott is prone to a less than stellar balance ever since her leg injury from her marathoning days. Over here is a hospital record of when she fractured both her legs and this was before the couple had even met. Simply put, none of this evidence directly points to my client."

I clench my fists tightly. Fucking liars. I know a fake document when I see one and these two would be in jail for life if they were caught but I have no way to prove it. And yeah, Carol did injure herself badly and still walks with a limp but that's a total coincidence that's playing into their hands right now.

"The jury and myself will now take a short recess to come to a final ruling." The judge bangs his gavel and stands to leave.

Martin side-glances me and if I didn't know any better, I'd say the fucker is smirking. I almost shake with anger. He's just as bad as his client for protecting him.

"I knew I shouldn't have taken this to court." Carol whispers next to me, quietly crying into her hand.

My heart sinks with so much guilt, I can't stand upright anymore. I take my seat next to her and squeeze her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Carol. I'm giving it my all."

"I know, Aria." She smiles at me despite the tears running down her face and my chest clenches even tighter. She's such a positive and optimistic person despite what she's been through and this is just crushing her spirit. Her life won't be the same after this. I feel the urge to throw up right about now. "Thank you for believing me. Even having one person on my side makes all the difference."

"I'm going to be here for you no matter how this ends. You can always come to me, okay?" I promise. I can't stop myself from pulling her into a hug even though it's completely unprofessional. I know what she's going through right now and it just makes it worse that this isn't over. At least in my case, Nate and the army he brought forward to testify against Robbie actually put that sick fuck in jail. I got my redemption. Carol most likely won't. I've been in enough courts to know when I've lost.

We separate when the judge walks back inside and takes his seat. A hush falls over the room as he opens the envelope to read out the final ruling. Carol clutches my hand tightly and I hold it, trying to give her all my support and more.

Please, I beg silently. This isn't fair. Please believe this woman.

"This court rules the plaintiff in question..."

I hold my breath, closing my eyes briefly and sending out a final prayer.

"Not guilty."

***

The house is quiet when I make my way inside. I'm glad everyone is asleep because my face is an open book right now and my family would instantly be able to tell something's wrong. I don't have the energy to answer any questions or explain that I just failed a woman who thought I'd be able to protect her. The wound is still fresh and I'm kind of tipsy from the drinks I had, anyways. I'm in no condition to face anyone right now.

I'm more than grateful when I pass by Nate's room and find it wide open. He isn't home today. If he was, he'd be able to hear me up here but for now I have this floor to myself which means I can break down in peace.

I close my bedroom door shut behind me and numbly start getting ready for bed. I go through all the motions of taking a shower, brushing my teeth, and changing my clothes. The shower sobered me up and as I brush my hair, I stare at my reflection in the mirror and the haunted look in my eyes. The only thing I hate about being a lawyer? Failing and the reminder that comes with it — the reminder that I once failed myself and those I love, too. I hate that Robbie's abuse turned me into someone I loathed. I used to be almost obnoxiously outgoing and full of life and fire. Robbie not only hurt my body but he hurt my soul and I became a broken and hollow person. The scars on my body have healed but the scars he left on my pride and my spirit are for life.

"Fuck this." I whisper and look away from my reflection when the tears start falling. I held it together when I lost the case, when Carol broke down all over me, when I helped her get back to her hotel room and we both got drunk, when I took an Uber home and waited an hour until a female driver could come and get me, but now I can't hold it in anymore. Now I'm breaking. I throw my hairbrush on the bed and clutch the roots of my hair tightly. "Fuck this!"

I fall to my knees as a sob tears out of me, wracking my entire body with tremors. I cover my mouth tightly so I don't wake up my family because these cries aren't about to stop anytime soon and I don't want anybody to see me. All I hear is that I've changed so much and that I look much happier and while that's partly true, I'm still so fucking broken. I still need to heal but instead I feel like I need to put up a facade to please everyone else around me. There's so many parts of me that need to be cared for that I've been neglecting and sometimes I don't realize like that until I experience moments where I completely shatter, like right now.

Simply put: life just fucking sucks sometimes.

I'm not saying it's all bad — not at all. There's so many beautiful and happy moments that keep you going but sometimes you go through things that make it harder to believe the good outweighs the bad. Sometimes it feels like the second things start looking up, you're just knocked back down. It's like every step I take forward is met with being pushed two steps back and eventually you run out of the energy and patience to keep going. You just want to give in and say "Fine life, you fucking won. Are you happy now?"

I crawl backwards so I can lean against my dressing table, needing the support of something to hold me up. I don't know how much time has passed but my tears are slowing down and now I just feel numb. I'm so fucking over feeling this way. I reach behind me and press a hand to my back, closing my eyes so I can envision the tattoo there. The first piece I've ever gotten and the one thing that always gives me strength to keep going. I need it now just like I've needed it every day for the last eight years of my life.

"Princess?"

A small gasp escapes me at the sudden intrusion and I whip my head to scope out where the voice came from. My breath stalls in my lug as I curiously watch Asher lower himself on to my balcony. He holds his hands up slowly as if willing me not to freak out. Where did he come from?

"I almost fell flat on my face climbing that." He jerks his thumb behind him and points to the tree branch that spans the length between our balconies. I guess that explains my question. He smiles timidly, his voice quiet and tentative. "Apparently I'm getting too old for this."

It's hard not to smile at that but I fight it. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard you crying." He says softly and I experience a rush of embarrassment. I didn't even realize I'd left the French doors wide open. "And then I saw you crying until I couldn't watch anymore. I had to come to you."

My heart misses its next beat at Asher's words. I understand what he's saying. He's always been there for me during my weakest moments. I've lost count of the amount of times he's caught me crying in my room only to sneak inside so he could comfort me. It's been nearly a decade since he's done that and he's doing it now. It's nerve-wracking trying to figure out what that means.

"Thanks." I whisper and play with the front of my shirt nervously. I think it's finally hitting me that Asher is in my room and we're all alone. We've done this a million times before but right now it feels new — scary.

"Can I sit?" He whispers back.

I nod silently, watching him as he crosses the short distance between us and sits in front of me. He matches my cross-legged stance and once he's settled, we do nothing but stare at each other. Looking into those eyes that I've loved since we were ten years old is doing something awfully crazy to my insides but at the same time I can't look away. The air between us is thick with tension and maybe even desire. Why does he have to be so...so fucking attractive? Everything about Asher is sharp and intense and his presence demands your undivided attention. He's a dark force you just can't ignore and having him this close to me, his scent engulfing me, the heat from his body radiating on to me, is short-circuiting my brain. I suddenly don't know what to say to him. Is he feeling what I'm feeling? What is he thinking about right now as he looks at me?

"Why were you crying?" He finally breaks the silence.

For a moment I had forgotten about today's events but now that Asher reminded me, I snap out of my trance and look away. "I'd rather not talk about it, Ash."

"Is it because it's too soon or because...it's me?"

I have to look at him again. Is he for real? "What? Why would you say that?"

"You tell me." He shrugs. He clenches one side of his jaw and it makes it look sharper than it already is. "We're not really on the best terms lately."

I nervously tug my legs closer to me and suddenly feel unconscious that they're bare. "We're not on the worst terms, either."

"And you're satisfied with that? This in-between?" He challenges.

"I don't know." I answer honestly and let my head fall back against the dresser.

"I'm not here to fight. I'm sorry." He takes hold of my hand and I suck in a breath at the unexpected touch. I stare down at our joined hands curiously. It looks weird but it feels...right. "I just want to tell you that I'm here for you."

"Thank you." I say again. I cautiously make my hold tighter and feel a rush of excitement when he squeezes back.

I sigh and look back up, meeting his eyes again. We stare some more and this time it's almost comfortable but still wildly intimate. There's something about this moment that just makes me want to give in to him even though I've spent so long holding back, overthinking what we are. I don't know what we are but I know I need him in my life so why am I fighting it? Where is it getting me?

"I lost a case." My smile is sad and Asher's eyes soften with understanding. "We started off really strong. We were both hopeful she'd get her redemption. I don't know what happened but I just left a broken woman alone in her hotel room during one of the worst moments of her life. She believed I was going to save her and so did I but look at us now."

"Ria." Ash whispers and scoots closer. Our knees touch and he uses his free hand to tuck my hair behind my ear. He lets go, his fingers barely tracing my jaw before he takes his hand away, and my chest expands with a heavy breath. Damn, his touch is like kryptonite. I might have just melted on the spot. "How can you say you didn't help her? Save her?"

"Her husband got away." My voice, although a whisper as well, is harsh and clipped. "He gets to walk around freely and continue to hurt other women. If I can't live with that knowledge, how could my client?"

Fresh tears pool in my eyes and I look down before Asher can see them. I didn't mean to start crying again but my heart is aching right now.

"Look at me, Aria." He insists. When I don't, he gently cups my face and forces me to lift it so he can meet my eyes. I'm surprised at how intense his stare is and a moment later, I understand why. "Peace means different things, different outcomes, to every person. Your peace is that Robbie is behind bars and paying for his mistakes. If I had it my way, my peace won't come until he's six feet under."

I blink at the vehemence in his tone.

"I'm serious." His hold on my face tightens. "It's not enough for me that the fucker gets to live after what he put you through. I want him dead and completely removed from the face of the earth. That's when I'll find my peace but that's not my call, is it? It's about your feelings and what you want at the end of the day. How do you know your client's peace was that her husband landed behind bars? Yeah, that would be awesome, but what if you gave her hope just by believing her? You stood by her side and made her situation known. You gave her your support and now those who believe this woman will give her their support too. She went from having no one to suddenly having all these people. How can you say that's not a saving grace? How can you know that didn't help her?"

"I mean...I..." I stammer over what to say, completely at a loss for this new perspective he gave me.

"You can't know." He shrugs and lets go of me. I immediately miss his touch and the warmth and comfort it gave me. "You can't know because it's not your situation to make your peace with; it's hers. So just support her with whatever she needs. Put her first. That's all that matters."

"Yeah." I whisper, nodding slowly and looking down at my hands again. He's making a lot of sense and surprisingly, I don't feel so shitty anymore. I wipe my eyes before looking at him. "Thank you. I...I needed that. You always did know what to say to me."

"Not always." His lips twitch. "Most of the time I said the wrong thing and pissed you off."

I laugh softly at the truth of his words. "That's because you never knew how to express yourself. Even the nicest things you said came out aggressive."

He snorts. "I'm still working on it."

"You've gotten better."

"Because you kicked my ass every step of the way."

"Can't say I regret it."

"Me neither." His lips tug into one of his rare smiles that immediately soften his face. My eyes fall to the teasing indent of his dimple that stays hidden behind his scowl and rarely makes an appearance.

"Sometimes I forget you have this." I tap it for emphasis without thinking and quickly retract my hand. I don't know what came over me. He doesn't seem to mind though as his smile widens by the tiniest inch.

"Mom says people would kill for one and it's a wasting away on my face since I never smile."

I cough behind my fist to conceal my laugh. "Your mom gives no fucks."

"She really doesn't." He shakes his head.

I debate asking him what I want to but figure now is as good a time as any. Besides, we haven't had a moment like this in a really long time and I don't know if we're going to have it again. "How is she? And your dad?

The easy smile on his face slips off and I instantly regret my question. I couldn't help it. I know Asher and I can tell he's taking his dad's accident in a way that's too hard on himself. He's acting like it's his fault or something and what I want to know is why he thinks that.

"He's better. His week of rest is almost up and aside from taking painkillers every night, things are back to normal."

"Then why do you look like someone kicked your puppy into traffic?" I nudge his knee with my own. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." He breaks our stare.

"Is that so?" I hold up my pinky. "Promise me nothing is wrong, then."

His eyes narrow in annoyance. "No."

"Why? If you're telling me the truth then what's the problem? Promise me."

He presses his lips tightly together and a few, tense seconds tick by. We both know why he won't do it. I feel a pang of disappointment but I also expected this much. Asher is not the kind of guy that opens up easily; you have to keep pushing and pushing until he cracks open because there's no other choice.

"That's what I thought." I say quietly.

He curses under his breath. "I'm not trying to be an ass, Aria. I just don't know what to tell you."

"You will." I tell him confidently and his brows go up. "When you're ready, I'm the first person you'll come to."

He shakes his head slightly. "You're so fucking cocky."

"Am I wrong?" I lean my body forward and raise a brow back. There's barely any space left between us.

Those intense and piercing eyes drop to my mouth for a moment before flaring up and meeting my stare again. I have to hold back my near hysterical laugh because I know, I know, what he's thinking.

Asher fucking Pryce wants to kiss me.

And I want to kiss him back.

Holy shit. What the hell is happening with us? It's beyond me how we even got to this point or where this chemistry came from but I can't ignore it anymore and neither can he. The question is — are we going to do something about it?

He breaks our stare again and looks away, swallowing hard. Damn it. I know he wanted to kiss me and I think he knows I wanted it, too. Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself and Asher actually realizes this will only complicate things. Maybe we shouldn't do anything about whatever is happening between us. We're barely hanging on to the remnants of our friendships and pursuing something beyond a friendship is really pushing it. I'm not even sure if that's what he wants. For all I know, this is probably just physical and I look like a complete idiot for thinking otherwise.

"You're not wrong." I'm jolted out of my trance when he finally speaks again. "You probably are the first person I'll come to if I ever decide to accept anyone's help."

I raise a brow, ignoring the flutters in my belly and trying to regain some normalcy between us. "You? Accepting help? I know I've been gone eight years but there's no way that much has changed."

He chuckles softly, eyeing me in amusement. "Such a brat."

"At least I'm right." I quip.

"I already said you are."

"Once isn't nearly enough for my ego."

"Funny." He rolls his eyes. "That's what I get for coming here."

I shove his shoulder teasingly, growing warm at the realization that even though we're not on the best terms he didn't let that stop him from being there for me. "You know I appreciate it every time."

"And there were lots of times." He gloats.

Laughter bubbles out of me. "Oh, get over yourself. There weren't that many."

"Are you kidding me? I spent all my time in here when we were in high school. You were either crying or going bat-shit crazy over something until I came and did damage control."

"As if I didn't save your ass just as many times."

"True." He concedes. He looks around the room briefly and his smile is wistful. "I can't believe it looks exactly the same."

"I kind of like that." I shrug, also looking around. "So much has changed in the last few years of my life and I like that I have a few things that are exactly how I left them. It calms me down."

"I like it, too." He sighs, losing his touch of easiness. "Sometimes I really wish I could go back to when things were simple — when it didn't feel like my life doesn't belong to me anymore."

"Tell me about it." I whisper. "Back then our problems seemed like the end of the world, didn't they? Little did we know."

"Like when I threw up on Katie Meyer's shoes." Asher grimaces. "Actually, I don't think I'd take that one back."

The reminder makes me burst out laughing and I throw my head back, my worries escaping me for just a moment. "Oh my God. I can't believe I forgot about that."

"Shut up." He mutters, pinching my knee. "At least I didn't spend a month crying over AJ Gordon."

"Hey." I say defensively. "I really liked him. Too bad he turned out to be an asshole."

"The guy was a fucking tool." He snorts and shifts so that he's lying back on my floor with his hands intertwined behind his head. The action makes his biceps bulge to insane levels and I find my eyes lingering. It's harder than it should be to look away and I ignore Asher's knowing grin. He's already cocky enough without my ogling. "Beating him up was one of my highlights of high school."

"I literally told you not to, Ash." I lie on my side beside him, keeping myself raised up on my elbow so I can still peer down on his face. My arm touches his side and from this closeness, I can smell his addictive scent. I should move back but I don't. "But you didn't listen."

"I tried." He smirks. "But then I saw him sucking face with the same chick he made out with at the dance he took you to and suddenly my fist was part of his face. It was kind of a blur."

"I'm sure." I deadpan. And then I crack a grin. "But it was pretty awesome seeing him walk around school with a broken nose for two weeks."

"Wasn't it?" He holds his fist up and I bump it with a laugh.

"I'm pretty sure you and Nate were the reason guys barely approached me then." I shake my head. "You two made dating impossible."

"None of them deserved you, anyway."

"Still." I insist. "For a while I was convinced I wasn't pretty enough or something. You know how superficial high school can be."

"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard." He looks at me like I'm insane. "Every fucker had eyes for you, Ria. You were locker room talk on more than one occasion and I had to shut it down each time."

"So you just beat up any guy that had the slightest bit of interest in me?" I gape.

He shrugs like it's not a big deal. "So?"

"Asher!" I smack his shoulder. "God! No wonder I barely had any relationships. You'd probably be doing the same thing now if I didn't move."

"Probably." He agrees without hesitation.

"Not that that's even a problem anymore." I sigh and look away. "I don't know why but it just feels like guys look at me and know that I'm damaged or something. Who wants to deal with that, right?"

"That's fucking ridiculous." He says sternly and I look back at him in surprise. My eyes widen in alarm when I get a good look at his face. Oh, boy. He's pissed. "You're not damaged. Look at who you are today — a damaged person wouldn't be able to overcome what they went through and dedicate their life to helping others. Stop thinking like that. And besides, there's no fucking way guys aren't interested in you. I mean, just look at yourself."

I do just that and glance down. I don't know what he's even talking about so I look back up and ask, "What?"

He searches my eyes, something replacing the anger. There's still heat in his gaze but it's different now. It's...intense. "You're fucking beautiful, Ria."

"Oh." The word slips out of me in surprise. I didn't expect him to say that, especially not as fiercely as he did.

His hand reaches up and he catches a strand of my hair, twisting it around his finger. "You've always been beautiful but now...it's almost hard to believe that you're real."

What is he saying to me? My heart beats faster at his words and I swallow nervously, wondering why his words are affecting me so much. My emotions are a mess but above all, I feel a rush of excitement and giddiness that he sees me that way — that he really thinks I'm that beautiful. It pleases me way more than it should.

"I thought you said you always say the wrong things to me." I whisper. I don't know why but it's hard to speak at a normal volume right now.

"Maybe that was the wrong thing to say." His voice is just as quiet. I have to hold back a gasp when his hand slides over the back of my neck and tugs my face the slightest bit down, closer to his. "Maybe I need to stop."

"Maybe you don't." I almost plead.

I don't know what's happening right now but all I know is I don't want it to stop. It's been a long time since a man has made me feel desire and raw need and it's thrilling. The fact that it's fucking Asher of all people doing this to me is just as thrilling albeit a little scary.

"Princess." It sounds like a warning. His voice is gruff and I'm a little too satisfied that he's just as affected by this moment.

The sudden silence in my room is deafening and just heightens the pure electricity between us. I can hear the heaviness in our breaths.

I place my hand on his chest, admiring how hard it feels beneath my palm. I smile a little when I feel his heart beating as fast as mine, if not more.

"What are we doing?" He searches my eyes, probably wondering what's gotten over me. I'm wondering the same thing.

"I don't know." I answer honestly.

I knew I felt a mutual attraction between us but I didn't think anything would actually happen. It's baffling that we're even here in this moment, experiencing whatever the hell this is.

My eyes drop to his mouth, a pang of need twisting in my chest and I can't believe how badly I want to kiss him. It's been so long since I genuinely wanted to explore something physical with a man. It's laughable that it's Asher of all people that I'm aching to do that with.

"Princess." He repeats in a throaty voice. He curses under his breath and lifts his body up and this time I can't stop my small gasp when our faces are close enough that our noses brush. That soft graze alone causes an ache between my legs. Holy fucking shit. I'm so unbelievably turned on by my best friend.

"I need to go." He chokes out and stands up so fast that I roll on my back in surprise. I breathe hard as I blink up at him, completely at a loss over what to say or do now that the moment is gone and the beginning of embarrassment creeps up on me, making my face warm. Shit. What have I done?

"Wait." I stand up too and keep some much needed distance between us. "I...I'm sorry. Are we okay?"

"Yeah." He nods but it doesn't seem genuine. My stomach sinks, this time in a bad way. "Don't worry about it. Night, Ria."

I know I should say something but he cut the moment off so fast that I'm still trying to understand what just happened.

"Night." I whisper. I watch him hastily make his way out of my room, using the tree branch to climb onto his balcony. He disappears into his room and then I'm left alone in mine, feeling an insane amount of regret. Fucking hell.

I just ruined everything, didn't I?

_________________________

A/N

Hot damn, these two!

Their chemistry is torturing me and their connection is so, so palpable! I don't know about you guys but I can literally feel what these two share and it's making me so giddy! I can't wait until they figure their shit out, haha.

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Happy Reading :)