“Are you fucking kidding?” the woman asked, her eyes flashing with anger. “You know the rules.” Her blue eyes slid to Ashlyn, then back to Asher. “You know what she is.”
The man she was with warned her, “Amanda.”
“Uh, what am I?” Ashlyn asked the rude skank.
“You’re not good enough,” she answered without a single second of hesitation. She leveled Asher with a disgusted look. “You fuckin’ Strikers. You just can’t stay away from them, can you?” She shook her head and huffed a breath. “You have no idea what’s coming for you.”
The woman bent suddenly, clutching her stomach, and the lights above them flickered. And then Ashlyn was feeling sick, too, nauseous like this morning. When the lights dimmed dangerously, like the bulbs would pop, the people around them started talking in panicked voices. Asher stared at Amanda with a dead expression in his eyes and a wicked smirk on his lips.
Ashlyn was going to retch, but she couldn’t seem to move to run to the bathroom. “Asher?” she asked helplessly.
Asher jerked his attention to her, and the lights came back full illumination. And just like that, the wave of sickness was gone.
“Let’s go,” the man said to Amanda, gripping her elbow and guiding her past them.
“I know what you are,” Amanda whispered furiously as they passed. She made the sign of the devil as fury roiled in her eyes.
Asher looked completely unoffended by that. In fact, he had no reaction other than to step forward, take their place in line, and order a black coffee for himself. And then he gestured Ashlyn to the counter and said, “What do you want, Sparkles? I’m sure it’ll be pink in color and taste like cotton candy.” There was an edge to his voice she didn’t understand. It was hard, and sharp as a razor.
Baffled by what had just happened, she clasped her shaking hands in front of her and ordered her peppermint, white chocolate mocha.
Asher didn’t say a word as they waited for their order, and he remained silent as they made their way outside and sat in a pair of rocking chairs by the warm wood-burning fireplace.
“Why were you upset about me ordering a pink drink?”
“Order what you like, it doesn’t matter to me.”
“Lie.”
“You can’t tell if someone’s lying.”
“But you can?”
Asher took a sip of his coffee and gave her a warning look. His eyes looked even lighter blue now.
“Aren’t you cold?” she asked, gesturing to his thin sweater. He wasn’t even wearing gloves.
“No.”
“When the lights flickered inside—”
“No.”
“When Amanda said I wasn’t good enough—”
“No.”
Asher reminded her of Blaire with all the secrets. “This is exactly what I don’t need.”
“Agreed.”
“You don’t even know what I’m talking about! I’m losing my best friend, Asher. My best friend. She’s like my sister. I was lonely, and then Blaire came along, and I haven’t been lonely a day in my life since. Until she came here and didn’t come back home. Didn’t come back to me. And now she’s full of secrets. I was so upset when I was leaving Jack’s, feeling utterly rejected, and there you were. This beautiful distraction. And what have you done? You’ve made me feel the exact same way as Blaire did. I hate this place.”
“I hate it, too.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because my dad died, and I had to come back to spread his ashes.”
The candid way he dropped that information bomb drew her up short. “Your dad died? When?”
“A couple of months ago.”
“Have you spread his ashes?”
Asher huffed a humorless laugh. “Kind of.”
“Yet, you’re still here. In this place you claim to hate.”
“It’s not a claim, it’s a fact. I don’t belong here. Never did.”
“So what are you still doing in Rangeley?”
“Waiting, and seeing.”
God, he was impossible. “Waiting for what?” she gritted through her teeth.
He leveled her with a cool look. “Waiting to see if this town will go up in flames. Waiting to see if my brothers will need me. Waiting to see if Blaire or Mila will need me. My job isn’t finished here.”
She was so confused. “Your surveillance job?”
“No.”
Ashlyn sighed in frustration. She was being talked in circles and couldn’t seem to stop the ride. “Do you think I’m not good enough for you?”
“You’re plenty good enough for me, Ashlyn.” He canted his head, dragged his gaze down her body, then back up, and locked onto her eyes. “But you’re making me feel different, and it’s dangerous.”
“Dangerous how?”
Asher let of a soft growl. “I have seasoned and haunted my soul to perfection. I don’t need fixing. I need you to stop touching my artwork.”
Ashlyn felt slapped by his words. On one hand, they were kind of beautiful, but she hadn’t been trying to fix anyone. She couldn’t even fix herself. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Forget it. I just meant it’s me who’s not good for you.”
Okay, this had gone too serious, way too fast. “But we both like creamy peanut butter.” She slipped a tiny smile onto her lips to show she was teasing.