Unexpected

“You’re not?”

“No.” I laugh. I don’t know what’s funnier, the relief on Asher’s face or that he thought I’d run back into Liam’s arms. For better or for worse, I’m not the same girl I was senior year. “We’re friends. Just friends. No benefits. No secrets. Real, platonic friends.”

Asher smiles and my heart soars. I never thought I'd see it again. “Are you…” He runs a hand through his hair. Tapered on the sides and long on top. It’s different, but a good difference. “Are you dating anyone else?”

I shake my head.

“So...would you...um.” Seeing Asher nervous makes my heart spin. He was always so confident. Collected. But this is nice too. “Would you like to do dinner with me tonight?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

I sit at the edge of my couch, the tip of my black peep-toe wedges tap, tap, tapping. My thumbnail has found its way into my mouth, a chip of nail polish bitter against my tongue. I spit it out and reach for my phone again.

6:59.

Asher is supposed to be here in one—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I suck in a deep breath and struggle to release the air. My hand shakes as it reaches for the doorknob. I don’t know if any of this is real. Seeing Asher at school. Agreeing to dinner, which may or may not be a date. There is a chance I imagined the whole conversation and Liam is on his way over for a movie. If that’s the case, I’m severely overdressed.

“Wow,” Asher whispers when I open the door, his eyes trailing down to my feet then up again. “You look stunning.”

I smile, my checks heating at the relief he’s actually here, and say, “Thanks, so do you.”

Asher looks good enough to eat in his navy blue slacks and white button down shirt. Jail hasn’t altered his appearance at all, which makes me happy. I don’t know what I expected him to look like when he got out, but I’m glad he’s the same, handsome Asher I fell for in high school. He extends a bouquet of white daisies and I thank him again.

“Are you ready?”

“Just a sec.” I run back into my dorm room and set the flowers on my desk, then grab my purse. I was lucky to get a single room this year. Liam is bunked with two other guys, but he doesn’t seem to mind it too much. “Okay, I’m ready. Where are we going?”

Asher takes my hand and that familiar tingle I’ve longed to feel springs to life. He lifts my palm to his lips, pressing his mouth to my skin and my heart skips a beat. “It’s a surprise.”

Twenty minutes later we’re pulling into a hotel parking lot. We took my car because riding on the back of Asher's motorcycle in a dress—with my legs spread, hugged tight against his body—it feels too intimate.

I frown and look down at my hands, remembering the night that was stolen from me and the things we never got to do.

My door opens. I look up at Asher, forcing a smile, but he can see right through me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I take his outstretched hand and allow him to help me to my feet. “Just remembering.”

Asher's lips turn down and a small line appears between his brows. He brushes a lock of hair—that was already in place—behind my ear and I lean into his hand. “I’m too late. Aren’t I?”

I look down at his lips, trying to remember what they felt like against mine. I know they were the best I’d ever kissed, but why? Why did they keep me up at night, haunting my dreams with empty promises of pleasure?

I tried to replace Asher in my heart at a summer party with a guy I barely knew once. It sounds silly, now, but at the time it seemed like a good idea. I wanted to feel something, anything besides numb, but it was like kissing a fish. Adding insult to injury, I dreamed of Asher that night, feeling more in the sleeping world than I did in the waking.

Right now, though, I feel more emotions than I have in weeks.

Nervous needles trail down my spine, twisting my stomach into knots. Asher glances at my mouth, then meets my gaze again. I freeze, caught between wanting to answer him and needing to know what his mouth feels like again.

I lean back against my car when Asher steps closer. The cold metal against the open back of my dress makes me gasp.

Asher reaches for my hand and threads his fingers with mine. He lifts my palm to his mouth again, and I snap. I grab him by the back of the neck and pull him to me. Our mouths crash together, lips parting with such fierceness, our teeth clack. His tongue sweeps into my mouth and every feeling I’d longed to find again comes rushing back.

Asher’s hands grip my thighs, lifting me, and I wrap my legs around him. He breaks away from our kiss and moves his lips to my neck. I arch my back and groan, “Asher,” when he sinks his teeth into my shoulder.

He pulls back again to look into my eyes. I’m panting, shocked at how close I was to climaxing from a simple kiss.