Twisted Hate (Twisted 3)

“I figuredI’d drop by D.C., pick some poisonous mushrooms, and use them to concoct a special pre-game brew,” Asher said. “What do you think?”

“Sounds great.” I fiddled with my straw.

As promised, Asher and I met up the next night for drinks at The Bronze Gear. Normally, I’d want to hear all about his latest feud with another major soccer star, but I was too distracted to pay much attention to our conversation.

What was Josh doing right now? Sleeping, probably. He’d showed up again at the clinic that day after another long shift, despite Barbs’s insistence he go home. He’d looked ready to collapse at his desk.

Shouldn’t you be resting right now?

I should. But I wanted to see you.

Asher’s laugh dragged me out of my thoughts. “Part of me is offended you’re so blatantly ignoring me.” His tone was drier than the gin in his glass. “Another part is intrigued.”

Heat warmed my cheeks. Admittedly, I was awful company right now.

I also bet Asher didn’t get ignored often, and not only because he was a Ballon d’Or winner. If he weren’t such a talented soccer player, he’d make a killing as a male supermodel.

Sculpted cheekbones, green eyes, dark hair…and I felt nothing except my earlier frustration over my situation with Josh.

I pissed myself off sometimes for more reasons than I could count.

“Your ego can take it,” I said lightly, trying to shake off my melancholy. “Though I’m surprised the cap is actually working.”

Asher had pulled his baseball cap so low it shadowed half his face, and his plain T-shirt and jeans were a far cry from the stylish outfits he usually wore. Thick stubble covered his usually clean-shaven cheeks and jaw. Still, I was surprised by how many people passed by us without sparing him a second glance.

He was right. People saw what they expected to see.

“Why are you in D.C., anyway?” I asked, switching subjects. “You said you were in town for a last-minute trip?”

“Can’t say, or my agent will kill me.” Asher finished his drink. “But I have several meetings in the U.S., and one of them is in D.C.”

I was surprised his U.S. trip wasn’t all over the news. Then again, I didn’t follow sports updates, so maybe it was, and I just didn’t know.

“Does it feel weird, being so famous?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine having my every move dissected.

“It was, but I got used to it.” He flashed a sardonic smile. “Can I tell you a secret?” When I nodded, he said, “I never wanted to be famous.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Come on.”

Some celebrities shied away from the spotlight, but Asher seemed to thrive in it. He was always dating the latest supermodel, driving the fastest car, and attending the hottest party.

“It’s true.” He leaned back in his chair. “There’s a certain liberation to being a so-called nobody. No expectations, no pressure, just me and my love for the game. For the longest time, I held myself back because I was afraid of hitting the big time. Me, a nobody from Berkshire, playing for the biggest clubs and against the best players in the world? I didn’t deserve it. But I love football—or soccer, as you Americans call it—and that mindset affected my game. I didn’t even realize until my old coach called me out on it. And now…” Asher shrugged. “Like I said, I got used to the fame. But more importantly, I can play to my potential. I just had to get out of my own way.”

I didn’t deserve it.

The words echoed in my head and filled my lungs with sudden, icy realization. Oh God. Maybe the reason why I—

“Enough about me,” Asher said. “Let’s talk about why that guy is staring at me like he wants to rip my head off for the past fifteen minutes.” He tilted his chin toward someone over my shoulder.

Had someone finally recognized him?

I turned, and my realization gave way to shock when I saw Josh sitting a few tables over. I had my back to the door, so I hadn’t noticed him arrive..

Instead of looking away, Josh held my gaze, his eyes dark and his jaw lined with tension. The air suddenly crackled with an electricity that lit up my nerves.

“He’s the guy from the wedding, right?” Asher drew my attention back to him. Amusement glowed in his eyes. “Boyfriend?”

“Not really.” Not anymore.

The amusement deepened. “It’s complicated, then.”

“You could say that.” Complicated, messy, and one of the few beautiful things I’d experienced in my life.

Even though I was no longer looking at Josh, the sparks from our two seconds of eye contact remained.

I didn’t deserve it.

I just had to get out of my own way.

Any interest I had in continuing drinks with Asher dissipated into dust. “I’m so sorry, but—”

“Go.” He waved me off. “I had a feeling our night would be cut short. And I’m ninety percent sure my cover is blown, so save yourself while you can.”

I followed his gaze and spotted two men beelining toward us, their eyes fixed on Asher with the enthusiasm of overzealous fans.

Yikes.“Good luck.”

Asher laughed. “Thanks for that, and for keeping me company for a few hours. If you’re ever in Manchester, let me know.”

“I will.”

I got out of there right as the men reached our table.

“Are you Asher Donovan?” one of them asked. “I’m a huge fan! That goal you scored against Barcelona last year…”

I shook my head, hoping Asher didn’t get mobbed once everyone figured out who he was. But like he said, he was used to it. I had a feeling he could take care of myself.

I, on the other hand, had a bigger issue to deal with.

Instead of approaching Josh, I exited the bar and lingered on corner of the sidewalk outside. The Bronze Gear was getting more crowded, and I didn’t want to hold a conversation in there.

As expected, Josh appeared less than a minute later.

“You’re not very subtle,” I said. Despite the thick summer heat, goosebumps peppered my skin.

“I’m not here to be subtle, Red.” He stopped in front of me.

Warmth dripped from the air and into my veins. “What are you here for, then?” I attempted to sound lighthearted despite the flutters in my chest. “Are you stalking me, Josh Chen?”

“Are you trying to forget me, Jules Ambrose?”