Fire

Family History

When Asher came back out of the bathroom he was wearing boxer shorts and a white t-shirt. He had obviously vigorously towel dried his hair, since it was standing on end like he’d stuck his finger in a socket. The t-shirt didn’t make things much better, since it was form fitting, and the the memory of his bare torso was pretty much seared into my brain permanently. He paused in the doorway and grinned at me, “you’re still here.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I closed the door and everything, and you didn’t run. So yeah, I’m kinda surprised,” he raked his fingers through his hair and his smile grew wider, “but happy about it, don’t get me wrong.”

“right,” I ducked my head and let my hair drop over my face, hoping he didn’t realize how hard I’d been staring at his chest, like I had X-Ray vision. I couldn’t help thinking back. Had I felt like this when Trent had kissed me? Was I acting like a big skank for being attracted to Asher now? My stomach was churning, and I refused to look up as Asher continued talking. He was saying something about leaving early the next morning, but my mind had wandered back to the rebels. Back to Kari. It wasn’t something I wanted to think about, but I couldn’t stop. Trent had told me that Kari was the half sister of Asher’s father. Kari was my mother, which meant….

My stomach felt sick. I was related to him. I squeezed my eyes shut. Five seconds ago I’d been ogling his bare chest, wondering what he would feel like pressed against me. But we’re related?

“What?” Asher was staring at me, “what’s the matter? You look suddenly…spooked or something.”

“Tell me about Kari,” I said abruptly, “my mother…whatever she is. Is she really my mother?” Sudden hope sprang up in my chest. Maybe she’d lied about that too.

“Yes, as far as I know,” Asher said.

My heart sank, and I sagged back onto the pillows. So we were related for sure. Obviously I’d misinterpreted Asher, he must know we were related, so he couldn’t be interested in me. It had just been the shock of the link that had made him act that way, stare at me the way he had. I was so stupid.

“You want to know about Kari?” Asher came over and sat down on the bed beside me, making the springs squeak. He sat cross-legged in front of me, and his knees were so close that it made my heart jump in my chest. Instantly I felt revulsion course through me. There was no way I should be feeling like this when he got close. It was sick. I told myself I felt nothing for him. It’s not like I was some type of redneck. I hoped Asher wouldn’t notice my face getting hot.

“Yeah, tell me everything about her,” hopefully it would distract me, maybe make me good and mad.

“Kari is…a piece of work,” Asher said, “to put it mildly. I don’t remember much about her. She left before I was even born, as soon as my dad married my mom. She was furious with Surtr, my grandfather, for allowing it to happen. She’s always been thoroughly racist against the frost jotun, thinks they’re scum,” he picked at the comforter between us, and my eyes were drawn to his hands. His fingers were long and slender, his nails short and square. Clever hands. I wondered if he played an instrument. I could easily imagine him playing the guitar or the piano…

Mentally I shook myself. Asher was still talking.

“She screamed at my grandfather, said she wasn’t going to stand for it, went on and on before she stormed out. No one took her seriously at the time,” he sighed, “I think that’s why she did it…started the rebellion I mean. Because nobody ever really took her seriously. Dad says she was always weird, he thinks she tried to kill him a couple times when he was child. Him and his sister, my aunt. Course, my grandfather denies it. He’s really angry with her of course, but she’s still his sister…kinda.”