“Eh, I’m okay with it. I’ll find me a lady I have sparks with.”
And I’ll hate her.
I sigh as I lean my head against the couch. I’m exhausted. “Are you staying here tonight?”
He nods. “Yeah, I already took off my shoes.”
I laugh. “You can put them back on.”
“Nope, too lazy.” He sinks deeper into the couch, and I smile. “You gonna stay?”
“Here?”
“No, outside.” I narrow my gaze at him. “Yes, here. Jeez. I figured with Angie not feeling well and wanting to be alone, you’d stay here.”
Duh, not because he wants to bang my brains out. Get it together, Ally. “Yeah, I guess.”
“You guess? What? You don’t want to?”
“It’s not that at all. I just know Taco will have something to say.”
“Who the hell cares?” he says simply. “He knows there is nothing between us but a loving, caring best friendship.”
Yeah, apparently everyone knows that but me. “Yeah.”
“We’ll watch TV, find some snacks, and chill.”
Sounds like the perfect evening to me. “Sounds good.”
But it isn’t good, it’s torture. For the next three hours, we eat, we watch TV, we discuss the murders on our show, and I feel like I’m falling for him even more. It’s just so effortless. The distance when he was gone was good for me; it made it easie
r to ignore my feelings. But now, spending time with him and seeing his grins, smelling his cologne, and being within touching distance, it’s more than hard. It’s almost agony. I wish feelings could be shut off. I wish I could just look at him and see my very close best friend who would do anything for me. Problem is, when I look at him, I see a future. I see us having a place together, getting married, adopting a few dogs, and then having kids.
But I know all he sees is his best friend.
I really fucked up by getting close to him, but in my defense, I didn’t have a choice. None of us Assassins kids did. We were stuck together, and we’re all friends. All close. While everyone knew about Shelli’s huge crush on Aiden—and teased her relentlessly—I made sure mine wasn’t ever noticeable or even a possibility. I did such a good job of hiding my real feelings that no one but my mom knows. It’s frustrating. Not with him—I’m not frustrated with Asher—I’m frustrated with myself because I have the power to change it all.
But I’m a coward.
When the last episode ends, Asher shakes his head and looks at me. “I bet when Emery is on this show, Stella will be the one who does her makeup.”
My stomach hurts, I laugh so hard. “Stop!”
“Seriously,” he says with wide eyes. “You’ll see.” He clicks off Netflix and goes to Hulu. “Wanna watch Catfish?”
“Sure.”
But unbeknownst to me, the episode he turns on is one where the girl best friend is catfishing the boy best friend. As the episode plays, I’m in knots, while Asher doesn’t even seem to care. I watch in horror but also in hope that he’ll turn to me and tell me he loves me. It’s a long shot, but a girl can dream. Soon, I’m wondering if maybe I should catfish Asher. Find out if he likes me in that way and then make my move.
But then I remember my life isn’t a reality show, and more than likely, I wouldn’t get a happily ever after. I’d get a “I lost my best friend because I’m dumb and brought him on national television to expose my love.”
“That is crazy.”
I whip my head to him. “Yeah?”
“Heck yeah. If she had just been honest and told him, she wouldn’t have needed to hide. They spent so much time apart, all because she wouldn’t tell him.”
I start to rub my temple. “Right?”