He kicked at a rock on the sidewalk, sending it skipping along the concrete.
“I wasn’t actually that much of a fanboy before college—I threw myself into stuff like the gaming club mostly just because I was desperate to have any kind of human contact that wasn’t telling me how all my life decisions were terrible ones.”
“I know what that’s like,” I said softly.
Asher squeezed my hand back. “And then along came the imaging systems opportunity,” he continued, his voice just audible over the sounds of our footsteps, “and suddenly I knew that this was exactly what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. This was my ‘noble calling:’ finding businesses that couldn’t make it on their own and building them up to a point where they could. I spent a year scraping together enough capital, everyone—my family especially—laughing at me for thinking I could do it when I hadn’t even passed my finals the previous month. But within a month of launching that business, we made back all of our investment and started raking in the profits.”
He should have sounded triumphant as he said that last sentence, but instead he sounded only slightly wistful.
“Bet that showed your family, huh?” I said.
“Not really,” he said with a small, wry grin that made him look like a ten-year-old boy trying to be brave. “They’re still disappointed in me.”
I had to look away at that, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. I watched the silhouettes of the trees instead, swaying in the light breeze as dawn crept over the edges of the apartment buildings, until I could trust my voice.
“Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me that,” I said. “It’s not the same—it’s not like I’ve given my family reason to be proud—but. But I know how that feels. That sucks.”
“You give your family a reason to be proud every day,” he said with a fierceness that startled me. “And your store will be just one of those many, many reasons.”
It felt like no time at all had passed since we started walking, but already we were at my doorstep. I took my hand from his and opened my mouth to say goodbye, and then paused. Could I really leave it like this? He reached out to take my hand again, caressing my fingers gently as his eyes never left mine, the green of them so deep and hopeful and open and sweet. I didn’t want this conversation to end. I didn’t want to push him away. I didn’t want to say goodnight.
“Do you want—” I began, and then his cell phone began blaring hard rock at top volume.
Fucking TIMING.
“Sorry, sorry sorry sorry,” Asher said, scrambling to mute it. “I set it at maximum because I didn’t want to miss any texts about the store—”
“Wait, someone is texting about the store?” I leaned over his shoulder before he could stop me and read the message:
HEY QT IT’S LONESOME IN THIS BED
Ah.
“Wow, sounds like someone needs your help,” I replied acerbically, trying not to feel like someone had just stomped on my heart in platform heels. “You’d better go save her, noble Sir Galahad style.”
Asher looked like he was about to say something, so I got out a “goodnight” and slammed the door behind me before he could start bewitching me with his siren song. Could dudes be sirens? Maybe not, but Asher had an all too dangerous way of intoxicating me with his words, making me forget that even if he was sweet and kind and seemed to understand me, he was still a playboy and that was never going to change.
I trudged up the stairs to my apartment, let myself in, and slumped against the door, trying to make myself feel like being saved from almost having sex with Asher Young was good thing.
Unfortunately, I’m persuasive, but not that persuasive.
“Time for the coldest of showers,” I muttered to myself, and trudged to the bathroom. I had a feeling that the Arctic Ocean would turn to steam right now if it touched my skin.
SIX
“Lacey, if you even consider that dress for another second, I am going to have to call off our entire friendship.”
“Are you sure?”
“Girl, look at that bow. That bow could pull small planets into its orbit.”
“Oh fine, I’ll try the sleeveless one next.” Lacey disappeared behind the changing screen.
It had taken some appointment-juggling on a heroic scale, but I had finally carved some space out of my schedule for helping Lacey separate the wedding dress wheat from the chaff. We were at the third high-end wedding boutique of the day, though to me they were all starting to blur into each other: lots of ivory and gold wall décor, lots of soft soothing music and splashing fountains, lots of overly helpful assistants that I had to scare off before they pressured Lacey into buying the entire store.