Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
I find the pantry, grabbing everything I need for a cheeseboard. “Oh, why?” I call out from inside. “Because everyone knows who you are already, Mr. Professional Snowboarder God, the epitome of every girl's wet dream?”
His chest brushes against my spine. Every muscle in me locks. What the hell is he doing? The hairs on the back of my neck stand as a chill sweeps over me. Cedar slices through the air, mixed with burned sugar—sickly sweet, toxic, irresistible.
My pulse quickens.
He snatches the cracker box off the shelf and places it into my hand.
I pivot, meeting his gaze over my shoulder. “Thank you.”
But back the fuck up.
I slip under his arm for the second time today and get to work slicing cheese and pulling grapes off the stems. Asher keeps going on about some sports thing he's getting dragged into next year. I just nod, throwing in a few “mhmms” and “yeah, okays” like I have any fucking clue what all these terms he's tossing around actually mean.
Mommy issues. That could be why he's so open with me. Not that I'm complaining, since he’d prove a perfect distraction from my life for the next couple of years.
Juice bursts in my mouth when I pop a grape, and I chew slowly while arranging the platter.
He glances at the board and me. “You got people coming over?”
“Mhmm, I do,” I say, dragging the dish towel over my palms. The fabric rasps against skin still damp. “Why?” My eyes lock onto his, the question hanging like bait. I let it. “Do you want to meet them?”
He smiles again, but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. So damn blue it’s almost blinding. “Sure, since you offered. But I'm heading out later.”
Fifteen minutes later, the doorbell echoes through the hall as I’m juggling bottles of wine.
“I'll get it!” Asher calls out from the stairs before I can answer. I blow a stray strand of hair from my face as Lucinda and Jord appear around the corner.
Jord is a few years younger than Lucinda and me, probably Asher’s age, so his idea of a ‘night in’ always means ‘night out.’
“Help.” The word snaps out, sharp. I shove bottles at both of them and snatch the platter just as Asher turns into the hallway.
Shirtless. Again. My stare locks onto his chest. “Really?” I jab a finger toward his bare skin. “You couldn’t put on a fucking shirt?”
“His shirtlessness is fine, Ivy! Stop being a buzzkill!” Jord’s shout carries from the patio doors.
My jaw drops open. Little prick.
Asher hooks a thumb in his sweatpants, tongue darting over his teeth. “Ah, I mean, they don’t seem to mind.”
He crowds into my space. Soap and cologne suffocate me, and seems like a pretty good way to be dead.
I could stop breathing.
“The question is,” he taps his temple, “why do you care so much?” He smirks, swiping the platter from me “Or is it that you'll be too distracted?”
I flip him off.
We settle around the mahogany table as wine flows between us. Jord sprawls in his chair like it's a throne, while Luce perches elegantly beside him, her green eyes dancing with mischief.
Asher sits beside me, his arm brushing mine.
“So you're really hanging around for a year?” Luce swirls her glass, studying Asher over its rim.
“Give or take.” His foot brushes mine under the table and I pause mid-drink. “Parker needs someone to keep an eye on things while he's traveling.”
“And what exactly needs watching?” I arch a brow, taking a deliberate, slow sip of wine.
His gaze follows the movement of my throat. “Just the valuable shit.”
Jord snorts into his glass. “Smooth.”
Asher's hand vanishes under the table, his knuckles scraping my thigh. I freeze, but he’s unaffected, because of course he is. It was an accident. So why the fuck can’t you chill out.
“You know,” Luce leans forward, “Ivy here used to say she wanted to snowboard.”
I glare at her. Traitor.
“Did she now?” Asher's hand brushes my leg again on its way back up. My jaw twitches. Are you really annoyed, though? “Maybe I should give her some private lessons.”
“I'm sure Parker would love that,” I say sweetly. It’s all lies, since Parker wouldn’t give a shit.
“Don’t you worry about Parker,” Asher chuckles, but the weight of his words aren’t lost on any of us.
Jord raises his glass. “To new friendships then.”
Asher’s eyes lock with mine. “To new friendships.”
What is with this man and his need to make everything feel intense?
Luce and Jord exchange loaded glances.
“Ivy loves discovering new territory,” Luce says innocently. “Don't you, honey?”
My foot connects with hers beneath the table, only deepening her smug grin. The conversation drifts, but the current between Asher and me grows stronger. Every glance, every accidental touch, builds something I can't afford to want. Won't allow myself to want.
But when he reaches for the wine and his fingers brush my wrist, a spark ignites something volatile. Something that threatens to rattle the foundations of the walls I’ve built around myself.