Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 112701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
I know that the owner of Bauer is from a family legacy in the oil industry. Money isn’t an object for them. It never has been.
Not that it’s any different for Charles. He might not be an oil tycoon’s grandson, but he isn’t hurting for money. His father has been uber-successful in the United Kingdom. Then again, I know little about Charles’s family. For all I know, he’s a billionaire, too.
Charles.
My mind strays from the gorgeous surroundings and back to Charles.
I wonder if he’s all packed for Italy.
I never had time to look at his itinerary. I was too busy closing out the week and preparing for tonight with Ash.
I grab my phone to pull it up quickly and flush when I see I have a text message from Charles.
Charles: I hope you’re relaxing.
Me: I’m out to dinner with a friend.
Charles: You’ll have to tell me all about it later. Have fun.
Me: Thanks for the text.
Charles: I found myself thinking of you.
“What has you smiling like a loon?” Asher asks.
My head snaps up to him. I stuff my phone back into my bag.
“Sorry about that. It was . . . my mom. She’s being her typical self.” I lie because I’m not ready to share Charles with anyone. Especially Asher. “She says hello.”
He smiles.
“I’m not sure your mom likes me.”
I frown, hating that he picked up on my mom’s skepticism surrounding him.
“What makes you say that?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “It’s just that she always looks at me like she doesn’t trust me.”
“She does not.”
Another lie, but one to avoid hurting his feelings.
“She’s just an overly curious woman. I’m sure you’re misreading it.”
“Let’s hope,” he says. “But in the end, as long as you trust me, that’s all that matters.”
I know he’s referring to Summer, and as angry as I was, I said I was over it, and I am.
“I do.”
Asher smiles, but it drops quickly, and he suddenly looks nervous.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
I have a feeling he’s going to bring up the whole situation, which I really don’t want to talk about anymore. But he doesn’t.
Instead, he clears his throat and looks down at his plate. He can’t look me in the eye.
“The thing is, Raven . . . uh . . . I know we’re friends. We’ve been friends for a very long time. And right now, it might not be great timing, considering we just had a fight, but there’s something I need to tell you.”
No. No. No.
My mom and Lily’s warnings ring loud and clear, and my stomach sours. I know without a doubt he’s going to tell me he likes me.
I feel panic rising inside me. Everyone was right. My mother was so sure, and I thought she was nuts, yet looking at him now, I know she wasn’t.
“Let’s enjoy the night and talk about whatever’s on your mind after? Can we do that?”
He takes a deep breath, nodding. “That’s probably best.”
I exhale, closing my eyes while he’s distracted. That was close, and I can’t have that talk with him. Not now. I need to think through how I’ll let him down easily. I need Asher in my life, and this could be the very thing that severs our friendship for good.
It makes me feel sick to my stomach.
I take my sweet time eating and even order dessert, determined to drag this night out and avoid that conversation for as long as possible.
Fully stuffed and a glass of wine on the wrong side of sober, we make our way toward the waiting taxi.
The entire ride home is strained. I watch Asher from the corner of my eye, and I catch him staring at me every time. His hand lands on my knee, and I tense.
It’s not like it’s the first time he’s touched my knee, but now that I think he actually has feelings for me, it feels . . . wrong.
I don’t remove it, and when the taxi pulls up to my apartment, I realize that was a mistake.
It’s only when I step outside into the shock of cool air that I realize I’m thoroughly drunk. I grab his arm to stabilize myself, and Asher stares down at me in a way that suggests he’s misreading my proximity to him.
I flush, a mix of the wine and weather combining, and Asher’s eyes darken.
“Raven,” he says way too huskily.
Before I can take a step back, he leans in to kiss me. My hand claps across my mouth, effectively halting his advance.
“I’m going to be sick,” I say, turning around and running toward my door.
I’m not. It’s all an act to get out of this horrible situation. All that innocent flirting has put me in this spot. It’s always been our way, but now that potentially real feelings are involved on his end, it has to stop. I’m sending mixed signals, and it’s not fair.