Unfriended(Love in New Highland Book 1)(57)

"Thanks," I said, but he shook his head.

"Kiss first," he said.

"What?" My eyes widened as I remembered his birthday wish. "Oh, uh … "

He presented his well-sculpted cheek to me.

"Um, well, actually … "

"Go on, girl. Plant one on me. You're single, aren't you, Charis?"

I slanted a guilty look toward Asher. His face was thunderous.

Oh, shit.

No, Hunt, I'm not single, and you've just put me on the spot, thanks for asking.

My desperately wandering gaze settled on Mel. She too had her arms crossed and was looking at me challengingly.

That wench! Had she set me up?

I leaned forward and gave Hunt a quick peck. But he turned his head and  pursed his lips in invitation. "Come on, real kiss, real kiss."

He was kind of adorable. But I wanted to smack him.                       
       
           



       

"Ooh, Char's gonna kiss Hunt!"

"Kiss him, Charis!"

"I think she liiiiiikes him!"

Now again I was the focus of the room, and this time Asher's stare was cutting into me like a laser.

Why me? This was now on the scale of a Greek tragedy.

Hunt must have seen something in my expression because his playful look  vanished. "Aw, Charis, no pressure, I was just teasing you. What's  wrong, girl?"

What's wrong?

What's wrong?

I opened my mouth.

If I kiss you when I actually belong to Asher that makes me the worst  hypocrite on the planet of Hypocrypton but if I say fuck it all and tell  everyone the truth then they'll all think … they'll all think … they'll  assume …

Oh, crap. You know what? I'm a complete chicken shit. Mel totally called it.

I freaking don't deserve Asher.





CHAPTER 33





Six Months Ago-The Crunch



Charis: There is no such thing as courage.

Asher: Oh, yeah?

Charis: Listen, no, really, there's no such thing.

Asher. I heard you. Was I arguing?

Charis: But there isn't. Courage doesn't exist.

Asher: Hold on. I just have one more problem set … okay. What were you  saying? No, I seriously was listening, I swear. Courage doesn't exist.  It doesn't.

Charis: Asher …

Asher: All right, all right. What's that you say, Madam? Courage not exist? By what reasoning? Defend your claim!

Charis: Thanks. Ahem. So, if you act fearless, that's not courage,  that's just luck and stupidity. Like the other day when you dashed into  the street to catch that football.

Asher: Wait, are you trying to pick a fight?

Charis: Ha. No, it's when you do something you're scared of doing, that's what everybody means when they call it courage.

Asher: Okay, right.

Charis: But as soon as you do something you're scared of, you've, like,  instantly transformed it. Because the result defines the act.

Asher: Eh … how's that work?

Charis: Well, see, there are two possible outcomes. One, your "act of  courage" results in your getting your ass kicked, in which case you  weren't courageous, just a foolhardy idiot. Only your mother'll call it  courage. But to nobody was it a virtue, which courage totally is.

Asher. Go on.

Charis: Are you sleepy? Or just bored?

Asher: I pulled an all nighter, remember? Go on, Sloane. I'm listening.

Charis: Okay, so then let's say the best possible outcome happens. You  faced the dragon, put out the fire, whatever. And the scary stuff  just … flits away. Floats out of existence. It's like the fear never  existed. Everything's confetti and applause now. But you can't have  courage without fear by definition. Ergo, it doesn't exist after the  fact.

Asher: Why does this not seem profound to me?

Charis: I'm working up to something here, maybe. So there you are,  you've won, but only in that teeny, tiny moment were you both afraid and  brave, i.e., courageous. And yet … getting to that tiny moment … people  live their whole lives and never get there. There's tons and tons of  fear and cowardice. But courage? Such moments are so infinitesimal as to  be negligible. Even if you take all the courage from all the battles in  all of history and add it all up, it would probably fit into a shot  glass.

Asher: Gotcha. What are you afraid of, Sloane?

Charis: Oh, I guess, getting the five pound bag. What if I don't like  the lime flavor? That's forty-five bucks I'm out. What was that?

Asher: I said I think you should do it. I'll eat them if you don't.

Charis: Really? But you don't even like pistachios.

Asher: If it helps you to take the plunge …

Charis: I know I'm being ridiculous here. I mean it's just yucky pistachios I'm afraid of, not the world coming to an end.

Asher: It's okay, Char. Seriously, I get it. I've got your back. I will live on this shit for a week if necessary. For you.

Charis: Maybe courage does exist.

Asher: You're actually buying them? You'd test our friendship like that? Aw, dammit.

Charis: Ew. They have chili and garlic in them. Never mind.

Asher: Thank fuck.



Asher



I WANTED TO GET MY GIRL the moment I saw her lurking over there with  Joel. If I wasn't mistaken, she was having just as lousy a time as I  was. Maybe while I'd been relegated to Asher's Room of Doom, she'd been  learning her lesson. Crime doesn't pay.

She did look chastised. And it served her right.

Because denying what we were was a fucking crime.

I tilted my head to indicate the babes getting all up in my face, then  sent her an eye message. This is all your fault, sweetness.

She bit her lip. She got the message, all right, unless you have some  other explanation for her spilling her plate all over her legs.

It was painful to watch her try to brush the food off her dress with one  of those useless lacy doily-napkins. I started to push through the  babes and head over, but then my man Joel went to fetch her a towel, and  a red-nailed hand suddenly curled around my forearm.                       
       
           



       

"Well, hello there, I don't believe we've been introduced. I'm Elianna Shuman."

I glanced down at the sultry brunette. "Ash," I said curtly. "You'll  want to get those scratches cleaned up." Then I walked away.

I was being rude, to her and to the other women, whom I'd barely  acknowledged. Definitely not like me. Yet it wasn't them I was pissed  at. It was Sloane.

I'd just seen Hunt sidle up to her and make his move. That was bad  enough, but then Sloane dared-she actually dared- to kiss him on the  cheek. Hell, no.

Fuck if I wasn't going to tie that girl up tonight. If there ever was a  night to get kinky, this was it. Would she go for it? Maybe I could  convince her with my mouth buried between her legs …

"You okay, man?"

It was my cousin Nate, slapping me on the back. I remembered my shirt and shrugged it back on without bothering to button it.

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?"

"Karl's gotten himself engaged to your ex."

"Mm, old news," I said. "I was there when it happened."

"No shit. You could have knocked me over with a feather. Damn, she looks fine, doesn't she?"

"Aura?"

"Who? No, she just left with your brother. You didn't realize?"

I'd sort of noticed but not really noticed, noticed. No big surprise.  The way she'd been acting up, Karl would have taken her away to cool  off. I had the feeling he'd be doing a lot of that in the foreseeable  future.

"No, I meant Charis over there."

My gut clenched. "Sloane looks beautiful."

"No kidding. I didn't know she had tits."

Would it be revealing too much if I slugged him?

But he went on, "Tell me … because I have to wonder … dude, did you ever think maybe one day, you and her might … you know … "

"Yeah," I growled. "I've thought about it."

"Yeah?"

Slowly I turned to look at Nate. My cousin is this big, burly, affable  giant. He was scratching behind his ear and giving me this innocent,  dopey grin.

"What's going on?" I said. "What are you up to?"

"Who, moi? Listen, I'm just saying, a guy has to wonder. Men and women being friends, how do they not, you know … "

"Not fuck?"

"Yeah."

They don't.

I almost said it.

But this was Sloane's show. It wasn't my place to fix her fuckup.

"I have no idea. And why do I have the feeling I'm part of a great big conspiracy right now?" I mused.

"I'm hurt, Ash. Would I be involved in something like that?"

I snickered. "Who is it? Mel? Ry? Mom?"

He sighed. "Just Winnow and Mel, far as I know. They have a long-term  plan. Look, it's for your own good. Somebody has to do something. You've  been panting after that girl for how long now? You might consider  boning her just to get her out of your system."

"Don't talk about Sloane like that," I snapped. "If Winnow's so hot for me to get with Sloane, why the Room 'o Babes?"

"That's just camouflage, to get your goat and … hot damn."