The Accidental Text
Page 6
“I suppose you’ve picked your specialization now,” Asher goes on. “In your history courses, I mean.”
“Oh, yeah.” Excitement bubbles up into my voice as we move onto the topic of history, all of it so much safer than the – let’s face it, probably imagined – tension between us. “Most of my courses are related to the history of the Victorian era, women, specializing in their treatment in asylums.”
“That sounds fascinating,” he says. “I’d love to read one of your essays sometime.”
I giggle, shaking my head. “I think I’d die of embarrassment if you read something I’d written.”
He shrugs and then, far too quickly, we’re sitting outside my rundown apartment block. It’s the only place I was able to afford after mom and dad died, using their small life insurance policy and my money from my cleaning job for college.
I usually don’t let myself think about how ramshackle it looks. But with Asher here, it’s like I’m seeing it through his eyes. I risk a glance at him, seeing his eyebrows furrowed and his strong jaw tense.
I wish I could reach past that silver hair and into his thoughts, work out what he’s thinking. If anything.
Heck, he’s probably just wondering when I’m going to get out of his car.
“Thanks for this,” I say. “You didn’t have to.”
“I was glad to do it,” he replies. “And if you ever need a savior again, feel free to call me.”
“I wouldn’t want to push my luck.”
“You wouldn’t be,” he says, in a sharp tone. “I mean it, Autumn. It’s been fun, saving a damsel in distress.”
I laugh at the note of irony in his voice, a whisper in the back of my head telling me that he’s mocking me, but I just can’t figure out how. Maybe he’s going to return to his supermodel girlfriend later and they’ll both have a laugh about this.
I should’ve found out if he had a girlfriend. But there’s no way I can ask now without him possibly guessing why I’m asking, and I can’t do that, can’t risk him laughing at me. Even if he’s too polite to outright make fun of me, I’d be able to tell.
Climbing from the car, I offer him a wave and walk toward my apartment. My legs feel shaky, my heart beating far too loud.
The only consolation I have is knowing he’d never feel the same I feel about him, not in a million years.
I have to remember that, or I’ll drive myself crazy with the impossible.
CHAPTER FOUR
Asher
Egil is waiting for me when I push my apartment door open. The Jack Russell is stocky and full of life, his tongue hanging down past his graying beard as he lopes over to me. I named him after one of the Vikings I did a paper on a few years ago. The name fits perfectly. He’s as energetic as any Viking could dream of.
Kneeling, I stroke my hands over his back. I end up sitting on the floor with my legs splayed in front of me, wrestling him into my lap as he places his forepaws on my chest and leans up to lap at my face.
I chuckle and hold him still. “I’m sorry, boy. I know I said I’d only be gone for a few minutes. The only place that was open was miles away, and then…”
I trail off, glad for once that Egil can’t understand me. If he did then I’d have to explain what happened next, and I’d be forced to put this craziness into words. My mind skips back over tonight’s events again and again, from spotting her in the restaurant to the drive home.
I remember the way she looked when she told me about her parents, her hands clasped in her lap, her face downturned. She had no idea how badly I wanted to reach over and wrap my arms around her as she spoke about her parent's accident. How hungrily I wanted to pull the car over and tenderly kiss her lips.
But I know the tenderness wouldn’t have lasted long. The fire inside of me would have expanded, exploded, and then my hands would have been all over her. I’d have grabbed those thick tempting thighs and smoothed my touch right up to her sex, pausing there to let her feel how close I was, and then…
Standing, I reach for a hook near the door, for Egil’s harness and leash. He goes into little berserker mode as I start getting his things ready, running in a circle and panting heavily. I chuckle as I wrestle him into the harness and make for the door. It’s not every day I take him for a late-night walk, but I need to do something.
If I stay in the apartment, I know my resolve will crumble and I’ll end up in bed, my hand wrapped around my thick throbbing length, stroking as I think about Autumn slowly bending over and presenting me with her round mouth-watering ass.