"You going to write at a wedding, angel baby?"
"Yes." I tip my head back, feeling defensive.
His easy smile soothes me. "You writing about me?"
"No," I lie, narrowing my eyes on him. He doesn't look like he believes me, which is probably because I'm not a very good liar. "How do you know I write anyway?"
"Looked you up on Facebook."
I gape at him.
"Told you that you're driving me crazy," he says, completely unapologetic. "I lost my damn mind about the second you looked at me the other night. You're talented."
"How do you know?"
"I saw the awards you've won."
I blush, glancing away from him. My family is kind of ridiculous. They always brag about me when I win something. I know they do it because they love me, but I wish they wouldn't. I don't like being the center of attention.
"Also saw the poetry you post." He tips his head to the side, looking at me like mine and Caroline's Rottweiler does when he's trying to figure out what I'm doing. "You're smart."
"You seem surprised."
"No." He shakes his head, adamant. "Anyone can have big tits or a pretty face. Not everyone can do the shit you do, make people feel something with a few strokes of a pen. Intelligence is sexy as hell, angel baby. That face and body may have gotten my dick hard the first time I saw you, but that brain of yours…that's what keeps it hard. I love knowing my girl is smart. I'm looking forward to learning all your secrets."
"We can't date," I tell him, trying not to cave. He's a little rough-around-the-edges and says really inappropriate things, but he's honest. When he compliments me, I know it's genuine. Somehow, that makes it even sweeter.
He doesn't like that at all.
He glowers at me, all pissed off and hot again. "The hell we can't," he growls. "We're happening, Kennedy. Might as well accept it now."
"Asher…you have a whole life in Nashville," I remind him.
"So?"
"So I may not even be here next year," I admit, telling him what I haven't even shared with my family yet. My dad and brothers would have a fit if they knew I wanted to transfer out to finish my degree. But Columbia has one of the best writing programs in the country. Caroline graduates this year, meaning I'll be on my own. I can go anywhere. And if I win the Braxton Prize, I have a real shot at being accepted.
But the thought of leaving Asher behind already makes my heart ache, which is all the evidence I need to know that dating him has bad idea written all over it. I'll get attached to him and never want to give him up. That wouldn't be fair to either of us. My goals matter to me, and I know his shop matters to him.
"Where are you transferring to?" he asks.
"I'm not sure. Maybe Columbia."
"New York?"
I nod.
"It's a good school."
I nod again.
"Hate to break it to you, angel baby, but you're not going to New York," he says, taking that same bossy stance my brothers mastered long ago. Arms crossed, feet planted, jaw squared, eyes narrowed…completely immovable.
The sight breaks my heart. Just like everyone else, he thinks I can't take care of myself. Somehow, it hurts more coming from him. Which is stupid because we don't really even know each other. I guess I just thought he would be different, that he saw me better than anyone else.
Maybe I am naïve.
I reach inside the car to grab my bag. Once I've got it over my shoulder, I stomp around him, headed back inside. Tears of frustration burn at my eyes, but I battle them back, refusing to cry. I got myself into this mess. Crying now won't get me out of it.
He curses and grabs my arm. "Kennedy, wait."
"Let me go," I growl, jerking away from him.
He mutters a string of curses beneath his breath. I'm pretty sure he just threatened to spank me. And I'm not even going to think about how much I like that thought. Instead, I put my head down and hurry up the steps of the church, narrowly avoiding running right into Dane.
"Sorry," I mutter, squeezing past him.
Asher curses behind me again—he curses an awful lot. I ignore him and practically run back to the safety of the bridal suite. He follows me halfway before finally giving up. I don't stop running until I'm back inside with the door closed behind me.
Sophie and Sienna both look at me with wide eyes.
"Men are stupid," I say, dropping my bag to the floor. Writing about my first kiss doesn't seem very appealing anymore.