He scoffs as I hit the floor I live on. “Usually I don’t need to do all that to get your attention,” he says, and I nod, even though he doesn’t see me. I push my door open, unsure what to say next, but then I’m frozen in place.
“But if you hadn’t noticed, I’ll do anything to get and keep your attention, Ally.”
Asher’s voice isn’t in my ear because he’s standing before me, his gruff voice filling the room. I gasp as I drop my phone down to my side as I take him in. Not only is he dreamy, clean-shaven, and with messy hair, but he’s squeezed his big body into his Camp Kewanee yellow tee. It doesn’t even reach his jeans, leaving a little strip of his skin and hair between the hem and the waistband. I cover my mouth, in awe of him, before I notice he has set up a fire pit grill and has a tray of s’mores fixings. I choke on a sob as he holds up his hands, a can in each one with a string between them.
“Oh, come on,” I plead, and he quirks his lips.
“I figured we should try to take it back to simpler times, to the best times, back before I got scared of feelings.”
“Asher,” I say softly, shaking my head as the tears slowly slide down my face. “What are you doing?”
He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he says, “Come sit with me.”
I drop my bag and my phone, locking the door behind me. Thankfully, Angie went to dinner with her family so this can happen with no distractions… Then something dawns on me. “Did you tell Angie not to come back?”
He nods as he turns down the fire a bit before loading a s’more maker stick. “Yeah, I wanted to talk to you. Just me and you.”
I lower myself down across from him, the fire between us. I don’t trust myself to sit next to him. I’ll probably end up in his lap. He hands me the stick and then the can. “I don’t need this.”
“Yeah, I think we do,” he says, exhaling hard. “It’s like a security blanket.”
My lips curve. “We need that?”
“I know I do. It’s about to get really deep in here.” He taps his fingers along the can as his eyes hold mine. Such pain and yearning swim in those gray eyes. I’ve missed them so much.
“I know you know about the ring.”
I examine the can, and it looks just like the ones he made when we were kids. “Yup, that was a shock.”
He holds his s’more maker over the fire. “I’m sorry you found out like that.”
“Did you plan on telling me?”
He swallows hard as he nods. “One day.”
“When?”
“When I asked you to marry me.” He looks up then to find me breathless.
I bite my lip as our eyes stay locked. “Why now? Why even give me the ring?”
He licks his lips, and I hate how unsure of himself he is. “It’s always been your ring,” he says with a shrug. “With the resumes going out and my confused feelings, I wanted to give you something to reassure you that you had me. Completely.”
I look away, inhaling sharply through my nose. “Is it true you didn’t give it to Jasmine?”
“Like I said, it’s always been yours.” I look up to find him still watching me. “When I was younger and I’d read the A.A., I would always think, It isn’t Aiden and Asher. It’s Allison and Asher. It reminded me of you, which was why I tried to get Aiden’s ring because I didn’t want to buy Jasmine one.”
I shake my head as I take a bite of my freshly made s’more. “Such a gentleman.”
“Hey now. I bought her a nice ring, and I was good to her.”
“You were.”
“Not as good as I am to you, though.” Our eyes meet once more. “I actually try with you.”
“You do.”
Silence fills the space between us as we hold each other’s gaze. “These last six days have been absolute shit, Ally. I’ve missed you so damn much.”