I roll my eyes. “I know what that means.” My pulse races.
“It means we didn’t get to talk at dinner, and you still want to.”
Damn. He’s right.
“Don’t be bad,” he says, his voice lower now.
“Bad?”
“You know what I mean,” Asher says more evenly, denying the flirtatiousness between us. “I want a real conversation, Bri. I can take you home.”
“I don’t know about that.” The thought of going back with him sends a flurry of nerves all through me.
“You’ve been drinking and I’m now your designated driver.”
“Oh, no you are not.”
“Hmm. I feel like … that’s not something you would say to a friend,” he counters.
“What would I say, then?” I challenge and suddenly he leans in close, so damn close I could kiss him. Tension singes the air between us. The bar is hotter, all of a sudden.
What I should say is no. I should put that wall up between us and insist we take this slow. Friends first, so I know I can trust him again. Taking our time so I know where I went wrong. I’m the one who wanted friendship, after all. Standing next to him like this makes all those plans disappear. “No. I’m not going to do it.” Emotions war inside of me at just the thought of giving him my heart again. It wouldn’t take much for him to just take it at this point.
“What if I beg?” he questions.
I give a huff and a shake of my head at his ridiculousness before downing the rest of my wine.
“I would do it,” he insists.
“No you wouldn’t,” I’m quick to reply.
It’s another dare. Asher looks me in the eye and goes down to his knees, right there on the floor. My bottom lip drops and a fire breaks out along my skin.
A couple onlookers nearby laugh. It’s too close to a proposal for comfort. He’s obviously being funny, but people are going to talk. People are going to notice this.
“What are you doing?” I practically hiss, setting my now empty glass down.
He looks up at me with that charming smile and puppy dog gaze, and I can hardly breathe. This is the Asher I always wanted. The one who’d beg me to stay with him for the rest of his life rather than going cold and distant. The one who’d have come to me instead of telling me it was over.
This is what I always wanted.
“If you won’t let me be your boyfriend, would you please let me be your DD?” he jokes.
Or else it’s the alcohol and the bar and all the good feelings from dinner.
“Get up,” I urge him. “Come on, Asher. Get up.”
He looks me dead in the eye. “You think I won’t show this whole damn town the woman who has me on my knees?”
A slow grin slides over his face. My body heats, then gets cold. “You have to get up.” It’s too serious, that tone he just gave me. That’s not joking about driving me home.
I glance around. I thought they were all watching, but most of our friends are wrapped up in each other. Renee and Griffin are gazing into each other’s eyes. There are a bunch of separate conversations going on. If they’re talking about us, they’re doing it so we can’t hear. Maybe that’s better.
Asher doesn’t get up. He’s the one challenging me now. This is more than a dare. He stays where he is and arches an eyebrow. The longer he stays down there, the more people are going to talk. He has to get up. But he’s not going to do that unless I give him a real answer.
He’s right. If we were friends the way we used to be, I wouldn’t refuse to go anywhere with him. That’s just not how we were.
“Get up, please.” He has to hear the change in my voice, the desperation for him to stop laying it on thick. I’m too close to falling for him. Too close to saying yes to all sorts of things. He partially stands, but he’s still leaned over in a begging position. Asher’s voice turns a bit more serious, although it’s still effortlessly sexy. “Everybody’s been drinking. I haven’t. Let me give you a ride.”