“I’ve had one glass,” I insist, but there’s a shift between us.
Something prickles in the back of my mind. Something about that bottle of wine no one would drink at dinner. He hasn’t touched a sip all night. I didn’t hear anybody talking about him being the DD, but they must have planned it. At the very least, people assume he’s not drinking. Why?
Or did I just miss it?
I look into Asher’s eyes. No. He really hasn’t had anything to drink. If there’s any flush to his skin, it’s from this conversation and nothing else.
“I can be a polite friend. I promise,” he says. “I can be a gentleman, if that’s what you want. I’ll take you home.”
He’s a good liar, because part of it’s true. Asher can be a good friend. The best one. That’s why everybody loves him. He’s always kind and helpful. Generous. Handsome. Everybody’s favorite … and the worst kind of person to lose. How can you stop thinking about him after he’s gone? How can you forget how his body felt against yours? How can you forget his hands?
I thought about calling him every time something went wrong for two years. I wanted to do it. I ached to do it.
“If we walk out of here tonight, people are really going to gossip.”
He shrugs. “Let them. I’m giving you a ride home. I’m being a gentleman, and you’re being …” He searches for the word. “Stubborn.”
“Wow,” I say, pretending to be offended. “I can’t turn that down. Will you please get up now?”
“Yes.”
Asher gets to his feet with a smirk, and I can’t help basking in how handsome he is. It’s made more powerful by the warmth of the bar. All our friends are here. Everybody’s okay. There’s no pressure. If I really wanted to refuse him, I could. There would be more gossip, of course. They’d watch us even more carefully, wanting to know how our story ends.
“You made me spend just about forever down there, Bri.” He grins to let me know it’s okay.
That grin. It’s the most unforgettable thing about him. Asher’s always letting me know it’s okay … except when it’s not. Except for the time he ended it.
I know I’m going to be thinking about this for days, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll think about him anyway. When I get up in the morning. When I go to bed. Sometimes, it’s better to just accept your fate.
My fate doesn’t seem so bad right about now.
“Don’t complain,” I say jokingly. “You got what you wanted. Now take me home.”
“One quick question,” he adds as I reach for my purse.
“What’s that?”
“Do you want me to be a gentleman?” he asks.
I pat his chest, which is harder than I remember, very much knowing what he’s asking and I tease him, “As if you could be a perfect gentleman.”
He half laughs and then he takes my hand in his. “If you’d rather Renee take you home, I’m pretty sure she’s waiting and wouldn’t mind. Then you wouldn’t have to worry about my ulterior motives.”
“Ulterior motives? Don’t tell me you have those.”
“Fine then, Bri baby,” he says and grins, taking his keys from his pocket. “I’ll keep them a secret.”
Ulterior motives.
“Just friends, right?” I question him.
“How do you feel about friends with benefits?” he asks.
“Maybe,” I answer and step in front of him to lead the way. So many questions are racing through my mind.
He gets to the bar door first, though, opening it for me and letting the cool evening air wrap around us. “I’ll take a maybe. I can work with that.”
Asher