Home > Asher (Wolves of Winter's Edge #3)(13)

Asher (Wolves of Winter's Edge #3)(13)
Author: T.S. Joyce

Ashlyn snorted. She’d always loved shocking Blaire. She got scandalized way too easily. “Not my fault.”

“How is you fooling around with a rando not your fault,” Blaire whisper screamed.

“He’s not a rando, B. He’s the hot brother of your someday baby daddy. We could be sisters.”

“Oh my gosh.” Blaire looked panicked as Mila sat down across the table from them.

“Everything okay?” Mila asked, concern pooling in her eyes.

“No,” Blaire squeaked. “Ashlyn fooled around with Asher—”

“Blaire!” Ashlyn admonished her. “For fuck’s sake, I didn’t want to tell the world.”

“Wait, you and Asher?” Mila asked low, leaning forward. “Like…he willingly touched you?”

“Well, I don’t have leprosy,” Ashlyn scoffed.

“No, I’m not saying…shit, let me start over,” Mila muttered. “Asher doesn’t touch people.”

“Well, I’m not people. I’m a voluptuous woman with a superior set of diddle-skills.”

“No,” Blaire said. “Ashlyn, we’re serious. Asher doesn’t do touch. I didn’t even think he could. He’s a little…”

“Terrifying,” Mila said, finishing Blaire’s sentence. Annoying.

“Well, he touched me just fine, and I had a monster fucking orgasm. He isn’t terrifying, he’s just mysterious, or misunderstood, or I don’t know. You are both making me feel gross, and I shouldn’t. I’m a grown woman who slept beside a man—”

“Wait, he slept by you?” Blaire hissed.

“Oh my God, move, I need out. I can’t handle your judgement right now. You! The one who moved in with a man after you knew him for, like, fifteen seconds.”

“That’s not what I mean. I’m not judging!”

Blaire was blocking her from getting out, but Ashlyn was good and pissed, so okay, she would just go under the table. Stupid big tits got in the way as she slid down between the booth and the edge of the table. Squishing her boobs down, she melted off the booth and onto the floor, where she bumped her head and crawled across the tile, shoving Blaire and Mila’s legs out of the way as she went.

Blaire grabbed her arm as she scrambled for the door, and damn, she was a lot stronger than Ashlyn remembered.

“Ash, I’m not judging. I’m saying to be careful, but if Asher can touch you, it’s a big deal.”

“Not polite.”

“No, I mean it’s a big deal for him. Really, really big.” Blaire arched her ruddy brows and gave her a serious look.

Ashlyn stood and dusted off her knees, cleared her throat, and straightened her scarf. “I want to know what’s going on.”

Blaire parted her lips to say something, but Mila murmured, “Blaire. Don’t.”

And her friend’s response was instant. Regret pooled in the green depths of her eyes, and she shook her head and shrugged an apology. “I wish I could tell you everything.”

“Yeah.” Ashlyn swallowed hard. “Me, too.” Because being on the outside really sucked.

“Will you please stay until the grand opening of Winter’s Edge?” Blaire asked. “Please. I like having you here. I’ve missed you, and I really want you to see my life here so you don’t worry.”

Ashlyn smiled sadly and nodded. “Sure.”

Blaire squeezed her hand, and then she and Mila led the way outside, Ashlyn trailing behind, feeling like the dirt under the concrete, under the ice, under the layer of snow in Jack’s parking lot.

She waved to the girls, who piled in an old truck, and then made her way to her rental car, but stopped when she noticed the tires. Her smart car now sported chains on the tires, and one giant man dressed in a skin-tight black sweater was fastening the back one.

“Asher?”

He looked up with a wholly unsurprised look, then stood and dusted snow from his hands. Gesturing to the chains, he said in a gravelly voice, “Now you’re less likely to die.”

“Huh. Romantic.”

“I wasn’t trying for that. It was just…well, I needed you to be safer.”

“This is better than a boy buying me flowers.”

Asher frowned deeply. “Stop that.”

But she was having too much fun with his discomfort. “First you jizz on my back—”

“I said stop. I don’t want to do this.” With long, graceful strides, he made his way to a black Tundra pickup truck with black rims.

Ashlyn power-walked to keep up. “How did you get the chains on? I thought you had to back a car over them.”

“I lifted your car over them.”

She glared at the back of his head and waited for the punchline, but none came. “You lifted up my car?”

Asher tossed her an icy look over his shoulder and opened his door. “It weighs about three pounds, so it wasn’t that hard.”

Frustrating man, running again, but she wasn’t having it. She bolted for the driver’s side and scrambled into the seat before Asher could. When he stood staring at her with shock in his frosty eyes, she grinned ridiculously big and buckled up. “Get in, Striker. I’m driving.”

“Get out.”

“No! You get in.”

The soft, wild sound he made filled the air, but he cut it off fast.

“Growl all you want to. That just reminds me of your finger-fuck-and-run, and makes me horny.”

   
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