"Genius? Brilliant? Sensitive and considerate?"
"Stubborn."
"Damn right, if stubborn means not letting you weasel out of us," I said smugly.
IT WAS THE PARTY MORE THAN anything that put a damper on the day. We argued about it again. The closer we got to zero hour, the more annoyed I got that, with all that had happened between us, Charis still insisted on keeping our relationship a secret.
"We're involved. They'll all have to know about it sooner or later."
"But there's no hurry, is there?"
"What is the big deal, Char?"
"I don't know! Mel … everything's happened so fast. It could all go away just as fast."
"Oh, yeah? Tell me, how does that play out in your mind?"
"I don't. Know. I heard what you said about being over Aura, and I believe it, I do believe it, but I just … Asher, look, if you don't want to do it, we'll just stay home."
Stay home. She called my place home and the idiotic woman thought we were on the cusp of ending.
That I might not be over Aura after all.
Was she still insecure? After what we'd done? Shit. What else was I supposed to do?
Maybe I should back off. Do what she said and pretend we weren't involved.
See if she could deal without having an Aura-class meltdown.
If Karl showed up with Aura-and he'd be just prick enough to do it, and I was just prick enough not to ask him about it-Charis would be watching me, testing me.
Great. So I'd test her back.
Yeah. As I said, pissed.
"We'll go," I stated.
"And you won't tell them we're involved?"
"You're not getting a blood oath."
"Don't tell them just for tonight. If things go well, we'll say something soon."
"Don't tell them … so you're saying I can't say anything, but I'm free to openly grope your ass?"
She huffed out a breath. "All right, let's just forget the-"
"Kidding, Sloane. Geez, lighten up. This whole thing was your idea, don't forget."
"Believe me, I wish I could." She raised her hand in the air. "Can I go back in time?"
"No. We're going. It's do or die now."
I knew how she took that, but I didn't reassure her. Legacy of Aura again. Even though underneath my anger was something that was all on Charis. This was her game. Her behaving badly for once.
And it hurt.
CHAPTER 29
Two Years Ago-Something, Anything
Charis: What do you think the purpose of small talk is? Why does it exist?
Asher: I dunno, to relax you?
Charis: But it's not relaxing. It's paralyzing. Everything I think of to say sounds so lame and obvious. That's a very blue carpet you have there, ma'am. Would you call it sky blue or powder blue? Boy, it sure is a nice 72 degrees in here, I guess that means the temperature gauge on your furnace works. Oh, look! You have a cat! And it has all four legs! That's so great for the cat. What? Why are you looking at me like that? I'm not that weird, am I?
Asher: False. You are one of a kind, Charis Sloane. What's the deal? You don't have to make small talk with my family.
Charis: Your family isn't any problem at all, it's not them. I guess mostly I'm fine. It's just when you go on a date to meet a guy's folks or a cocktail party and you have nothing in common with them and you know you're gonna embarrass yourself. No, I'm looking forward to Christmas. I love spending it with you guys. I love all of you.
Asher: We love you. I love you, Sloane. You know that, right?
Charis: Sure. I love you too, bro.
Asher: I'm actually not your brother, just to be technical here.
Charis: Well yeah, obviously, I meant it like brother from another mother. Like, if I could design my own family, you'd be number one on my list.
Asher: That's great that you'd say that, given that I did barf on you last week.
Charis: You had the flu! It wasn't your fault. Except for not listening to me when I told you to get the flu shot, that was lunkheaded. And anyway, now I always have something to hold over you, puke-brain. Eek! Keep your eyes on the road! Not puke-brain! Not!
Charis
THIS DRESS. Talk about uncomfortable.
I'm sorry, but dress-up is not my thing. Clothes keep me warm, right? They're not exactly the basis for the meaning of life, well, except maybe hats. Hats are the bomb.
But Asher got me this slinky thing to wear for the birthday party, and it's not really compatible with headgear.
Why did he do it? Who knows? Maybe he thought I needed the boost.
And maybe he was right.
Here I was, living the dream. Asher was into me. His approval of my girl parts came through loud and clear. This made me … it sounds all la-di-da to say over-the-moon. But there it is. I don't think it's an exaggeration to say I've never been happier in my life.
But this party was freaking me out.
I mean, I'm cool with the way I am. I don't fret over other people judging my looks, my ways. I please myself, right? It's my modus operandi.
Except …
These are the Norrells, whom I secretly think of as my real family. They've always welcomed me. As a friend of the family, mind. And Asher's bestie? No problem.
But his lover?
Asher's the baby, protected by everyone. They love Aura. She's "Ash's precious girl." They're always wondering whether he's proposed yet.
If they knew about me … I couldn't begin to guess what they'd think, aside from what the fuck.
The thought of disappointing the Norrells is crushing. And if their disappointment were to influence Asher …
I know, I know. Asher goes his own route and fuck what others say.
But I watched my mom play her gotta-be-the-best game her whole career. Even when she won, she lost. There was always someone more talented, more skillful, more beautiful, fitter, better, luckier, stronger …
It's exhausting. I'm seriously not up for those kinds of histrionics. Count me out.
Yet the moment the Norrells find out I'm trying to fill Aura's shoes, it's all over, I'm entered in that gameshow-The Asher's Girlfriend Reality Show-and pretty much guaranteed to lose.
Let's face it. Aura's glamorous and I'm not, Aura's sophisticated and charming and I'm not, Aura's alluring and glowing and fashionable and …
Fuck this dress.
I have no beef with the color. It's the skimming-all-down-my-body part and the deep square neckline I hate. The whole thing comes off as a joke on my total lack of hip and cleavage. And it's too filmy for one of my special bras. Way to make your nips an ice breaker at the party. Ugh.
Why did I get it? Easy one. Post-orgasmic bliss.
Did I regret it? Sure.
Did I put it on anyway?
No. But Asher did.
And afterwards, he lifted up the hemline and kissed my nipples and my tummy and my mound with these sweet little pecking kisses and then let it go and smoothed the fabric over me.
I love that man.
No, I mean I really love him.
So much it hurts. I want his babies. I want to be buried in his casket, not just nearby.
I'd go to a Billy Ocean concert for him.
Even if the Doubleclicks were playing locally. I'm not exaggerating, I'd do anything for that guy.
I don't know how it happened, but it's like one day I was resisting him, and the next, insane love.
Or maybe not. Actually I think I've loved him for a long time.
But whatever.
So the dress was mistake number one. Mistake number two was no coat. Asher had reminded me sarcastically not to wear my black one, and my fall jacket was too grungy for a party, which left me shivering as we knocked on the door of Winnow's house. She lives a few miles away, in a charming bungalow far too small to host a party, not that she ever lets that stop her.
And then there's mistake number three.
"Why the squirming?" Asher hovered two feet away, pointedly keeping his hands in his pockets. "I didn't even touch you. My behavior has been fucking impeccable."
Asher had been in a pissy mood ever since he found out what a lameass I was about letting his family know about us.
"I just think arriving together like this is a dumb idea," I said.
"Come on. We've arrived places together before."
"Not together together."
"Well, since they don't know we're together together-"
The front door swung open and Hunt Killian stood there, looking tousled. I relaxed. I like Winnow's best male friend. He goes too far sometimes, but in such a charming way you can't be offended. He's not the tallest guy, but like Asher and Karl, there's something about him. He did a double-take my way.
I extended my hand and chirped, "Happy birthday! Sorry we're late for the surprise."
He grasped my hand. "Is it really Charis Sloane? Nice dress, girl." He tugged me closer, drawing me into a hug. "Just so you know, we're not involved."
"Um, what?" I said.
Hunt thumbed over his shoulder. "Izzy, with the braid. I brought her, but we're not dating, we're just friends. Veeeery nice dress." He waggled his brows, and I rolled my eyes, sure he was having me on.