Small Town Pretender by Brighton Walsh

Prior to last week, marriage hadn’t entered Asher’s mind even once. It wasn’t that he was against it per se. His parents had had a perfect marriage. Or so it’d seemed to his eyes anyhow. Of course, he was sure they’d had their ups and downs like any married couple would have, but nothing dramatic. Nothing that would scare him off the institution.

But he was only twenty-seven, and he didn’t even feel like he’d really started his life. True, he’d probably experienced more life in his short stint on this earth than many people three times his age had, but that didn’t mean he was done living the single life. Not to mention the fact that it wasn’t exactly easy to find a partner understanding enough to put up with his life on the Nashville music scene. Now, at least, when he wasn’t yet big enough to be a household name, it meant late hours and not a lot of time off. And weekends? What were those?

Not to mention being okay with his being extremely close to his very female, very beautiful best friend.

He figured he’d have plenty of time to figure that out. Get married, have a couple kids. Maybe…someday. Ten-plus years down the line.

But now here he was on the morning of his wedding, about to marry the last girl in the world he’d have thought. And yet, somehow, the first one he’d ever wanted.

The morning light tiptoed into the room, casting a soft glow over Nat as she slept soundly next to him, her hand tucked under her cheek. She was still in the position she’d been in last night when he’d hugged her and fallen asleep to the lullaby of her heartbeat. It wasn’t the first time they’d woken up next to each other. Prior to this new reality, they’d done it hundreds of times before.

Of all the crazy, ill-conceived, spontaneous decisions he’d made in his life, Nat had been present for at least ninety percent of them. This wasn’t new for them. And yet, the whisper of nerves over what this day meant still sat low in his gut. He didn’t understand why, though. It was just Nat. And, truthfully, there wasn’t anyone in the world he’d rather do this with than her.

To be fair, though, perhaps part of his nerves came from the fact that they were about to be on center stage, thrust into a relationship that, prior to a week ago, hadn’t even existed. And now, suddenly, they were supposed to be madly in love enough to pledge their lives to each other.

All that, and they hadn’t even kissed.

“You always stare at me while I’m sleepin’?” Nat asked, her voice raspy with sleep. “Who are you, Edward Cullen?”

“I know you wish you were marryin’ your favorite sparkly vampire today, but sadly, it’s just me.”

“Yeah, not gonna lie, that’s a real disappointment,” Nat said, completely straight-faced as she fluttered her eyes closed again and tucked her toes between his calves. Jesus, no matter the outside temp, this girl’s toes were constantly icicles. “Seriously, though, on a scale of one to Edward, how much of a creep are you usually when I’m sleepin’?”

Asher laughed. “Usually maybe, like, a two? Today, I’m inchin’ toward a nine.” In more ways than one, but, as he’d done diligently each morning they’d woken up close together, he’d made a concerted effort to keep that bit of information as far from her as he could.

“Well, at least you’re honest. What pushed you over into full-on creep territory this mornin’?”

“Well, I was thinkin’…”

“We can’t do anything illegal today,” Nat said. “We’re supposed to get married, remember?”

He cracked a grin. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I was thinkin’ about as I was creepin’ on you.”

“Tryin’ to figure out how to get out of the old ball and chain?”

He breathed out a laugh and shook his head. “Thinkin’ about how our first kiss shouldn’t be in front of a crowd, actually.”

Nat’s eyes popped open, and she stared at him, her gaze much more alert than it had been just a moment before. “Is this your way of attemptin’ to get the milk for free before buyin’ the cow?”

“I think that has to do with a lot more than a kiss. Are you offerin’?”

She rolled her eyes and laid a hand on his chest, the heat of her palm seeping into his skin. “Easy there, Casanova. I’ll give you the kiss, but it’s gonna take a lot more than your sweet, gruff voice and messy bed head to lure me into havin’ sex with you.”

Nat puckered up, the exaggerated move making it clear she wasn’t taking this seriously. Something he knew he shouldn’t be doing either. But still, this wasn’t just a random girl. Someone he was attracted to and had the brief notion to make out with for a little while. This was Nat. Someone who’d been in his life nearly the entirety of it. Someone who’d hopefully be in it much longer still.

Because of that, he reached up and gently brushed her hair back from her face, trailing his fingertips down the side of her jaw and cupping her head as he slid his fingers into her hair. He swept his thumb against the soft skin of her cheek, his gaze darting to study each of her features. She lay there, eyes closed, her lashes swept across the tops of her cheeks. Her lips were parted, her breaths puffing faster along his skin the longer he took to study her.

Unable to wait a second more, he closed the space between them, his eyelids fluttering shut until, finally, their lips were pressed together and he was breathing her in. He’d thought about this a handful of times years ago when they’d been teens. And, truthfully, he’d thought about it a handful more this week, knowing they’d have to do this at some point. And though at least the former had, at times, been over the top, those fantasies still didn’t hold a candle to the real deal.

As their lips moved together, every preconceived notion he’d ever had about what this might have been like with her was completely blown out of the water. Not wanting to step over any bounds, he initially kept it slow and sweet. Gentle. Chaste. But at the first breathy moan that spilled from Nat’s lips, all bets were off.

He groaned as he swept his tongue across her lips, then into her mouth when she opened for him. Despite how diligently he’d worked at keeping his raging hard-on from her notice, in the end, it didn’t matter. Not when she hooked her leg over his hip, settled in as close as possible, and rocked her pussy against him.

“Ash…” she whispered as she held him by the back of his head, tipping hers back so he could trail kisses down the front of her neck.

Jesus, why hadn’t they ever done this before? Had this been what he’d been missing his whole life? What he’d shut the door on without even examining it too closely for fear of what he might lose, should it go wrong?

He should’ve known it would be like this between them. Everything with them was always so easy. Was it any wonder their sexual chemistry would be too?

“Fuck, you feel good,” he said into her neck.

Last night, he’d been wishing she’d worn more clothes to bed, if only to keep a leash on his cock. But now, he wanted every stitch of cotton between them gone so he could feel each inch of her skin pressed against his. Could suck her nipples into his mouth. Could feast on her pussy until she came. Could sink so deep inside, he couldn’t tell where she ended and he began.

Reaching around, he palmed her ass and tugged her hard up and against him, eliciting a sharp gasp from her lips. Just as he slipped his fingers beneath the cotton fabric, the bedroom door slammed open, and in ran June, her fairy dress Rory had lent them on backward.

Nat jerked away, her eyes wide but cloudy, as if she’d woken from a sex-filled dream.

“I’m ready!” June yelled, climbing up to bounce on the bed. “Let’s go!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Junebug,” Asher said, maneuvering to catch her before she face-planted on them, while at the same time, working to hide his aching erection.

Nat glanced down and clearly noticed his predicament, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as her eyes practically sparkled. “It’s not quite time yet, Junie B. But I think you could use some lip gloss. What do you think?”

“Yeah!” June slipped out of Asher’s arms and ran back into the hallway.

Nat tossed off the bedding, careful to leave him covered, and slipped out of bed. She pulled on a pair of sweatpants, but not before giving him an eyeful of her firm ass and the shadowed outline of her nipples hidden beneath her light purple tank.

She grabbed one of his hoodies and slipped it on before padding to the door. She stopped at the threshold, one hand against the trim as she glanced at him over her shoulder, her eyes positively gleaming. “I’ll keep her busy if you, um, wanna Edward Cullen one more thing today and take care of the beast in your pants by yourself.”

“Oh, you’re real funny.”

Her answering laughter spilled into the room even as she shut the door. With a groan, he slammed his head into the pillow, the heels of his hands pressed to his eyes as his cock still throbbed, demanding attention. If he didn’t take care of it now, there was no way he could be around Nat all day without being distracted by every move she made.

Taking advantage of being alone, he pushed his boxer briefs down far enough to free his cock and gripped it tightly. Usually, his fantasies featured faceless women—just abstract shapes doing the activities he wanted. Now, though, his eyes weren’t even closed before it was Nat’s face filling his mind. Her throaty moans in his ear and her hands clutching him closer.

He could still feel the heat of her pussy against him, and he bit his lip to stifle his groan. Fuck, he was already close. Already seconds away from coming, and he hadn’t done more than picture her kneeling on the side of the bed, her hands pulling down his sweatpants, her eyes locked on his achingly hard cock.

Apparently, he’d made a mistake imagining faceless, shapeless, nameless women when he’d only needed to picture one to get off.

“Nat,” he said, probably louder than he should have, but he was too far gone to care, his hand a blur over his thick erection, his thumb sweeping the head with each pass.

Commotion sounded in the hallway, but not enough to take him away from his thoughts. Not when he was this close. Not when, in his mind, he was about to paint her lips with his come before she’d even swiped her tongue over the head of his cock.

“Hang on,” Nat called, and hearing her voice so close sent a jolt through him, his balls pulling up tight to his body as his breathing turned ragged.

And then the knob turned.

“I’ll be right there, June.” She poked her head inside. “Did you call—”

“No,” he tried, though it came out strangled.

He didn’t know if he was talking to her or himself. It didn’t matter because it was too late anyway. Their eyes locked, and Asher groaned as he stared at her, his cock thrumming in time to the rise and fall of her chest as the warmth of his come spilled across his bare stomach.

Nat stared for long moments as he tried to catch his breath before June called for her again. With a mumbled apology, she closed the door on him, leaving him to clean himself up and wonder just how the hell they were going to traverse this.