“It smells good,” Ashlie says from the stairs behind me. She’s changed out of her travel clothes into a gray slouchy University of Los Angeles (ULA) sweater with light pink leggings underneath. If I was struggling before, tearing my eyes away from her now is a full-on battle.
“I was wondering if you were out for the night. You’ve been asleep for hours.” I turn back to the gas stove as soon as I feel my eyes threaten to wander to the dip in her waist. It’s hard enough without the added temptation of her loungewear. Seeing her dressed down with a relaxed smile like this is a long-held favorite of mine. She looks like she did when we—no.
That’s what this is. We’re back in Fort Bender, and I’m reminiscing over a moment we shared years ago. A moment we agreed meant nothing. One I think about every time her jasmine perfume lingers and I’m alone.
“I guess my nap on the plane wasn’t enough.” Her shrug is paired with a sexy giggle that would make even the strongest man crumble. “Wine?” she asks, moving to the small bottle cooler sitting next to the fridge.
From the corner of my eye, I watch as her tip-toed stretch for wine glasses lifts the side of her sweater, exposing a thin gold strand of waist beads. My hand twitches, threatening to drop the mixing spoon I’m holding for the sole purpose of brushing my fingers against—Shit. I clear my throat and shake the thought from my head.
“It was long enough for you to drool down my arm.” I smirk, dodging the playful swat coming my way. Teasing her is my go-to strategy for distraction. Makes it easier to focus on something other than her bare shoulder and the curve of her ass—Stop.What the fuck is wrong with me right now?
“I donotdrool!” She laughs, balancing the wine bottle and glasses as she sets them on the speckled granite island.
“Oh? Then what’s this on my sleeve?”
Her mouth drops as she comes to inspect my shirt, eyebrows scrunching when she can’t find anything. “Where?”
I flick her nose when she leans closer. “Right there.”
“Ugh!” She rolls her eyes but laughs as she pushes on my shoulder again. “Annoying!”
“I know.” I grin. My eyes linger on that smile, and God, I just want to—Fucking hell, bruh.I clear my throat again, like doing so repeatedly has helped dissipate my wayward thoughts.
Her face falls, and she slides delicate fingers over my forearm. Goosebumps instantly scatter under her touch. “You getting sick?”
“Huh?” My voice cracks like I’m pubescent, and I cringe, trying to hide it by focusing on the bubbling sea of red sauce.
“You keep clearing your throat…and you sound weird.” Her slight caress makes me jolt, and her eyes narrow. “Kinda jumpy too.”
“Na—”Goddammit. I catch the heightened pitch and “ahem” one last time. “Naw, I’m good.” One more swipe of her thumb, and my heart will careen across the floor. “Can you grab those bowls on the counter? Dinner’s ready.”
“Sure. Thanks for cooking…and for letting me sleep.”
I nod, my eyes fixed on the stove. I don’t cook for anyone. Don’t keep women around long enough towantto cook for them. But these past few weeks, I’m realizing just how much I would do for Ashlie, without her even having to ask.
“You were such an asshole back then!”Ashlie laughs and takes another sip of wine as we reminisce about the summer we met. Dinner has long since been put away, and we’re on the sofa by the nearly exhausted fireplace. With her legs stretched toward me, I’ve been spending our time stealing glances in the sultry glow. She’s damn near irresistible tonight. Her lighthearted giggles and sass are just like they used to be, and I can’t help but laugh along. This is the most confident I’ve seen her in a while. Maybe Fort Bender isn’t all bad, if it gives Ashlie the little boost she’s needed.
“I’m still an asshole.” I smirk. Her carefree smile has me thinking all the thoughts I shut down earlier. In this intimate darkness, I keep my eyes on her for longer than I’ve allowed myself all night. “You’re just used to it now.”
“You’re not an ass to me, though…”
“Naw, 'cuz you’re always calling me out.” I’m trying so damn hard to resist brushing a thumb over her pink toenail polish. I’m a fucking sucker for painted toes. “You don’t let me get away with it.”
“Damn right!Can’tlet you get away with it.” Her self-assured nod is accented by another giggle that has me biting my lip before I can stop myself. She could always see through my bullshit, and I didn’t have to worry about her pretending with me. I think her ability to call me out is part of what made it easy to let her get so close. She’d keep it real no matter who was around. “But really, why were you such an ass to everyone but me?”
“Because everyone else sucked.” I shrug, turning to the lowering embers. Vulnerability, even in the dark, isn’t my strong suit.
“Everyone, except me?”
“You were alright,” I tease, giving in and nudging her foot. I take the opportunity to swipe over the pink polish before letting go. Her silky skin gets impossibly softer each time we touch, which does nothing to discourage my desire tokeeptouching her.
She’s quiet for a couple of minutes, long enough that I wonder if she’s fallen asleep again. When I slide my eyes over to her, she’s watching me while nibbling on her thumbnail. Holding my gaze, she places her wine glass next to the empty bottle on the coffee table and sits back again.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“You know why I was blushing earlier? At the diner?”
“Yeah. Ole Bert in the corner,” I tease. She doesn’t laugh, though, shaking her head instead. The undeniable shift of energy in the air prickles my skin as we stare at each other.
