“I just wanted to make sure we don’t have any hard feelings.” He slides a hand through his slicked-back hair before extending it toward Ashlie. “I thought we could be friends.”
“Naw,” I say, pulling her closer. “She’s good on friends.”
“I’d like to hear that from her…”
“How about she gets back to you by email? Five to seven business days sound good?” My molars grind as I stare at the idiot next to me. This asshat really has no idea how close I am to toppling the stool and ramming his face in. The fucking audacity he has to do this with another woman under his arm is astounding.
“Are you two—I thought you were just friends.”
“Things change.” Ashlie turns away from Marcus and leans into my chest, her hair tickling my chin. She’s wedged into me so tightly; the smell of jasmine threatens to override the few logical thoughts I have left. It would be the easiest thing to kiss her right now. Just completely ravage her mouth the way I’ve been wanting to all night. Blaming it on the ruse of being together would be the perfect fallback. But as much as I want to, it would devastate our friendship, just like the first time.
“Bye, Marcus.” Dismissing him with a nod, I move Ashlie with me and swivel toward the bar. I don’t check to see if he’s left, knowing my fist won’t leave his face alone if he’s still behind us.
“Thank you,” Ashlie whispers, staring into her drink. She’s carried a brave face since the breakup, but I know her better than that. The slump in her shoulders gives her away, her shaky breathing adding a cherry on top.
“Hey.” I lower my face to hers until our eyes meet, and damn it if my breath doesn’t catch at those honey-brown irises looking so distraught. “I got you. Always,” I say softly. She gives me a sad smile before downing the rest of her drink in one large gulp. Signaling the bartender to send another, she sets the empty glass on the bar top. “How many of those have you had?” I ask.
“Not enough to make up for that interaction.”
“And how many is that?”
“Not enough,nosy.” She shakes her head while looking over my shoulder. “And now Ava’s shooting daggers at me.”
I start to turn, but Ashlie brackets my head to stop me. My breath stalls as her thumbs stroke my face.Fuck, her fingers are the softest damn things I’ve ever felt.
“Don’t look. That’s what she wants. Do you trust me?” The mischievous twinkle in her eye knocks me speechless. I nod, swallowing hard at the stroke of her silken fingertips grazing my neck. “You should see her face, Hunt.” She leans in close, giggling quietly as her gaze darts over my shoulder and back. Her eyes lock onto mine just as someone slams into the seat next to her, knocking her forward.
With a near silent gasp from her, we’re nose to nose. I slip my hands around her waist to steady her, the warm stream of her breath tickling my lips. I can almost taste the fruity hints of her drink. Her touch, something I didn’t know I still craved this much, is the only thing that matters. My thoughts scatter as I wet my lips, my body mindlessly drifting closer. I’m teetering on the brink of burning our friendship to the ground, but still, I lean in. Then her eyes flick behind me, shattering the moment completely.
“That was too easy,” she whispers with a smile, dropping her hands and pulling away from me. My arms fall limply to my sides, aching as I resist the urge to latch back onto her. These last few weeks have been dangerous; giving in to my impulses is like playing with fire. Touching her is inane when I know damn fucking well that crossing the friendship line would be a death sentence. I can’t give her what she needs, and she deserves someone who can.
That’s the thing about being in love with your best friend. The glances, touching, it all gets logged by her as innocent interactions.Shit, she’s drowning in her feelings for some other guy right now. My stupid ass is holding onto moments that mean nothing to her, wrestling with the undeniable reality that I’m no better for her than he is.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HUNTER
“I’m cutting you off.” Taking the drink out of Ashlie’s hand, I set it on a nearby table.
She puffs out her bottom lip and whines, “You’re no fun!”
Holy hell, I want that lip between my teeth. “You’re drunk, and it’s time to go.”
“Just let me finish it.” She stumbles, reaching around me for the cup. “I already paid for it.”
“Naw. I’ll pay you back tomorrow. Let’s find you some water.”
“Can we get tacos?” she slurs, holding onto my arm for balance. I won’t be surprised if she loses the high-heeled boots before we make it to the parking lot.
“So you can puke all over my car again? Naw, I’m good…” I dig out my phone and shoot off a text to Aiden. “Give me your phone so I can text Willa.”
“Oh, no. Is she okay?” Willa pops up out of nowhere while Ashlie relearns how pockets work. “What happened? Who did she run into?”
“Marcus.” I shift my body to catch Ashlie as she sways to the music unsteadily. She drops her phone, and Willa hands it to me.
“Ugh. Asshole.” She offers her water to Ashlie, who pushes it away. “Let me help you get her to the car.”
“Have you seen Aiden?”
