When he does, he lifts his lips into a crooked smirk. “Elaine Melrose Walker, are you attracted to me?”
Our waitress returns with our orders in hand. She sets the plates in front of us then walks away without asking if we need anything else. Asher picks up his lobster sandwich, but waits to take a bite until he asks, “Well?”
I drop what’s left of my roll in the basket and grab my fork. I twirl the spaghetti on my plate, refusing to meet Asher’s gaze because my cheeks are bound to be red they’re so hot. “Don’t ruin the moment, Asher.”
“Just answer the question.” I hear the smile in his tone and give into temptation. I look into those eyes. The same pools of purple I loved as a child but dismissed as I grew up. Now, at eighteen, I’ve come full circle, falling into their depths and finding new slivers of color every chance I get. Today, the rich hues have trails of silver.
I stare into them until my own eyes burn. I blink twice, water covering my sclera, relieving the dryness. “What question?”
Asher smirks and folds his arms on the table, his sandwich forgotten. I huff out an exaggerated groan. This is so embarrassing. “Fine. Asher, will you go out with me and be my real boyfriend?”
He scoots his chair back. Stands. Then moves to the open seat next to me. I feel my heart everywhere. In my chest. My toes. Even my eyelids. Asher is grinning, so I think whatever he’s about to say is good, but that doesn’t soothe my nerves.
“Under one condition.”
I swallow hard, expecting him to tell me I need to change the way I dress, or wear more makeup, or do something to my appearance to be worthy of the girlfriend title. Most days I wear my hair in a ponytail and put on a little eye makeup. Tonight, I straightened my hair, then curled the ends. To my amazement, it’s holding. I’ve also put on a full face of makeup. Foundation. Eye shadow and liner. Lipstick. “What’s that?”
“Go to prom with me.” Asher reaches for my hand and I swear this must be what a real proposal feels like. “I’ve been wanting to ask you, but wasn’t sure how you’d take it since things between us were supposed to be fake.”
I don’t have a dress, or shoes, or a hair appointment. I doubt I could get any of that at the last minute, but I don’t care. I nod, my lips stretching wide across my face. “Yes!”
“Good.” Asher reaches forward and threads his fingers through the hair at the base of my neck. He looks me dead in the eye and this time, there's no doubt in my mind that he's gonna kiss me. “Because none of this was fake for me, Ellie. I’ve wanted you since the sixth grade. Now that I’ve got you, I’m not letting you go.”
Asher presses his mouth to mine before my brain can analyze what he said. He parts my lips with his tongue. I melt into him, scooting from my chair into his lap. I wrap my arms around his neck, and close my eyes, falling deeper into the kiss. Asher’s mouth is dangerous, a hot sear of temptation and desire. It’s better than I remembered, making it too easy to forget where we are. We feel right like this, but I need to remember we just started dating. As great as the last few weeks were, if we rush things, it could ruin them. But then this feeling of lust slithers through me and all thoughts of caution are forgotten.
Someone clears their throat and we’re forced to break away. I fight the urge to yell at whoever interrupted us, but remember we are at a restaurant and look up at the person with a smile instead. It’s our waitress, holding styrofoam containers. Her cheeks are red as she asks, “Do you want to finish everything here or take it to go?”
“Here,” Asher says, applying a little pressure to my hip.
I slide back into my chair, the pang of disappointment slithering through me. He has an empty hotel room three blocks away. We could take our food there and get to know the parts of each other we’ve been dying to touch. But no.
I force a smile and return my napkin to my lap. Asher must be thinking the same thing I was a few minutes ago. We shouldn’t rush things. Going from chaste kisses to sex on day one is a little much, but prom is in two days.
All bets are off on prom night.
My cheeks burn and I try to contain my smile. In two days, I’m going to sleep with Asher Anderson.
“I want to meet your mom,” I say the next morning on the way to my locker.
Dinner was nice. We finished our meals and then, since Asher didn’t suggest we do anything else, I drove us back to my house. I may be more anxious to ride him than a junkie looking for her next fix, but I don’t want him to think I’m promiscuous.
Prom is different though. Everyone has sex on prom night. It’s an unwritten rule. If you have a date, and you’ve never done it before, you’re popping that cherry. My cheeks heat with excitement as I think about it. Let’s see if he can give me that orgasm he promised.
“You’ve already met her,” Asher states, pulling me back to the moment. We stop in the hallway and he leans against the locker beside mine. “You don’t need to do it again.”
“Meeting your mom when we were eight doesn’t count.” I twist the spinner on my lock and open the door. I grab my civics binder, since that’s my first class after homeroom, then shut it again. I hold my binder in front of me, both hands on the edge, and wait for his reply.
It takes a solid three seconds to formulate a simple statement, but he says, “I’m pretty sure that if you’ve met her once, it lasts a lifetime.”
I reach for Asher’s hand. He laces his fingers with mine and smiles. It’s not the grin I’ve gotten used to. There’s no joy behind it, no playfulness in his eyes.
“Asher, what are you worried about?”
Is it his house? I’ve already been there, so he can’t be worried I’ll think he lives in a shithole. He does, but people can’t help the environment they’re born into. They can only strive to do better, and be more than their parents.
Asher is quiet for a minute, staring off into space. When he comes back to me, he reaches for his phone in his back pocket. Looking at the clock on his screen saver, he says, “If we leave now we can get there before Mom starts her shift at the diner. Clint should have already left for another job by now, so he shouldn’t be a problem.”
Now?