Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
"So you only invited me here because you were drunk?" he slowly nods.
I start to stand but fall into him.
"You have a way of doing that," he steadies me.
"What?"
"Falling into me." He rights me again and kneels a bit so we're eye level. "How about that ice now?"
"I don't need any, ice" I insist, and this time as I stand I manage to do so without making a complete fool out of myself. "I'm fine, really."
Just embarrassed.
I get back to the cookies, taking them out of the box and placing them on a tray, feeling his presence behind me.
"And I'm glad you're here," I add with a sigh.
"Your family is nice. Pretty great actually."
I nod, realizing I'm being a little too aggressive with the baked products in my hand.
I clear my throat.
“You came today because you wanted to right?”
“Obviously…” his voice trails off, and I force myself to turn around.
"I mean you didn’t feel obligated to."
"What are you getting at?"
I take a deep breath, my voice low and laced with humiliation. "We didn’t like, do anything last night, right?”
He bites his lip and looks away in a nearly identical pose to about twenty pictures I just tore to shreds. The only difference is his shirt remains on.
And it's still completely mouth-watering.
If desire could talk he would be named Asher Montgomery, and if he could move he'd look exactly like he does right now.
I realize I'm biting my lip because I accidentally break the skin. I'm low key freaking out when he doesn't answer, his gaze fixed on me as he slowly approaches.
A liquid warmth pools in places it shouldn't, not while I'm standing in my parents kitchen, and yet as he stops directly in front of me, with his face mere inches from mine, all I can think about is begging - pleading for him to never stop looking at me like this.
He leans in.
Time stands still.
My heart thuds rapidly.
He lifts his arm.
I hold my breath.
He closes his eyes.
I do too.
He reaches out.
I'm anticipating his touch.
Oh god. This is happening.
Then I hear his low chuckle. It vibrates deep in his chest and I open one eye, just as his fingers brush past.
He's gabbing a cookie from the tray behind me.
Crap.
He takes a bite with this all-knowing, cocky, amused expression and this little gleam in his eye.
Shit.
My face is flushed.
Get a hold of yourself!
"And here I thought you were repulsed by me."
“I am when you spit crumbs in my face,” I wipe a nonexistent one off my cheek.
God could I be any more awkward?
He pushes his tongue into the side of his mouth, his body practically hovering over mine.
I'm basically pinned against the counter.
His arms on either side of me close in as what little is left of the space between us narrows. His chest presses to mine, hard and firm, then his legs lock me in. I couldn't move if I tried. His hips follow, only they don't get to me before he does.
Him.
I feel him.
All of him.
Right here in my parents kitchen.
I have to remind myself that he's only mocking me.
I wonder how all of that fits into his jeans.
Focus, stupid!
Teasing be damned I think he can hear my muted grunt. His gaze mocks, let me hear you. Louder.
Shit I'm in trouble.
Yet his breath is soft in my ear.
“You told me you love my eyes more than anything in this world,” his voice is a gentle purr, and I cringe, praying it ended there.
“Want to know what else you went on and on about?” I swallow hard. “Want to know what I said back?”
If I turn my head our mouths would touch.
A door slams in the distance and as he quickly snaps away.
Right.
I shut my eyes, releasing a huge breath of air.
“Hey Asher, come see this!” Ben yells.
Asher smirks and ever so slightly bows his head before heading towards the sound.
“Wait, so did we…?” I call after him, but my voice trails off.
He stops and turns around.
“No, Elle,” he sighs. “You’d remember if we did.”
He disappears, leaving me with a plate full of his cookies and more confused than ever.
9
Stay Stay Stay
After dessert we played board games. All five of us. I can't get over how Asher fit in, or how my parents treated him like family.
It felt like I was part of some weird sitcom in which everything was too perfect.
Surely no one is ever that happy.
Yesterday I was.
At ten pm on the dot his security guard and a car showed up.
See you at the show? Come early so we can hang out.
That was all he said, and then he was gone.
I stayed the night at my parents' just to wake up in the middle of the night and walk through each room. I wanted to remember the stupidest things, like how he stood when he first got there, holding that freakin' box of cookies.