Asher leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, studied her with a calculating look. “I was angry at your drink choice because you’re so different from me.”
Ashlyn tucked her knees up to her chest and faced him in the chair. “You don’t like us being different?”
“Not this different. I don’t change. I don’t get better, or lighter, or easier. Amanda mentioned the rules. I’m not supposed to be with you. Not even as friends. And I would fight the rules and say fuck it except for you’re peppermint, white chocolate mocha, and I’m coffee black. And even if you amuse me, and even if I think about you when you’re not around, and even if I want to know more about you, protect you, and touch you, I can see clearly where we’re headed.”
“And where’s that?”
Asher swallowed hard. Such honesty pooled in the bright blue of his eyes as he whispered, “Nowhere.”
Chapter Seven
Asher had sufficiently confused Ashlyn into a stupor. She couldn’t think straight as she put her clothes away in the chest of drawers in Asher’s room. Yep, she was claiming this room for sentimental reasons. Their early morning fool-around session seemed so long ago now, but it had meant something to her. She hadn’t been touched like that by a man in a while. Not just physically, but he’d done something strange to her heart. To her mind. He’d attached her to him somehow.
Something was strangely in Rangeley though. Something big. With every minute she stayed, and every encounter she had with the Strikers, with Mila, the people of this town, and even Blaire, her instincts kicked up at the wrongness a little more. And at the top of that mountain of mystery sat one badass, tatted-up, behemoth of a man named Asher.
Why did she always do this? Bad boys were her Achilles heel. She’d always gone for the ones destined to break her heart. Blaire had always said it was because Ashlyn didn’t want to settle down—not really. The bad boys would break her heart, and she would move on because that was how she thought love was supposed to be—an endless loop of breathtaking excitement and butterflies and then bone-deep, soul-deep, heart-deep pain when they left for something better, somewhere better…someone better.
Asher had been right. They would go nowhere. She’d been on this roller coaster loop before, and while it was exciting for a moment, it always ended too soon.
A week was what she’d promised Blaire. She had plenty of time off work saved up, so okay, she would stay and make sure Blaire was all right in her new life, and she would go to the bar opening. But she would avoid the hell out of one sexy, icy-eyed mystery man who had apparently taken lessons on how to make a woman fall into serious lust with one above-average finger-bang.
That was all this was—lust.
A soft knock sounded at the door, and she twisted around to see Mila standing timidly in the hallway. “Hey.”
Ashlyn closed the drawer and forced a smile. “Hey.”
“Soooo, I wanted to talk to you. Is it okay if I come in?”
“Sure.”
Mila entered, dark hair twitching with her graceful gait, and she sat on the edge of the unmade bed. “This morning was awkward.”
“Awkward as fuck,” Ashlyn agreed, resting her back against the dresser.
“And I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Too much, maybe, about how I would feel in your shoes, and I kind of hate that I’m probably a big part of the problem. I’m not trying to replace you as Blaire’s best friend, Ashlyn. She talks about you all the time. I feel like I already know you just from her stories. So I thought if you maybe knew a little about me, I would be less of a threat?”
“Crunchy or creamy peanut butter?” Ashlyn asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Crunchy,” Mila said without a second thought.
Ashlyn hissed and shook her head. “I don’t know if we can bury the hatchet now, Mila. That’s a deal-breaker.”
Mila giggled. “I would switch my favorite if we could make this easier on Blaire.”
Hmm. Ashlyn liked that. She began to make the bed, and Mila stood up and helped on the other side.
“I have been stuck in this town for a long time, and I didn’t really have girlfriends. Not good ones. I was really lonely until Blaire came along. She’s amazing.”
“That she is,” Ashlyn agreed, straightening the sheet.
“I was thinking maybe we should do some fun stuff together. I mean, I’m totally cool with letting you have Blaire all to yourself as much as you want, but if you…you know…want to hang out with me, too, I would like that. I think you’re funny, and I keep laughing at the memory of you crawling under the table at Jack’s. Everyone was staring, but you didn’t care at all, and I liked it. I want to be more like that.” Mila was blushing hard, her cheeks the color of cherries, and she wouldn’t meet Ashlyn’s eyes. Mila was a shy girl. Blaire had gone shy when her ex-husband had wrecked her with that divorce, and something about Mila’s discomfort pulled at Ashlyn’s protective instincts. Dammit.
“Anyway,” Mila rushed out. “I have ideas if you want to do fun stuff. I’m gonna let you get back to unpacking.”
She rushed toward the door, but Ashlyn called, “Waaaait.”
Mila turned, wringing her hands in front of her lap. “Yeah?”
Ashlyn sighed in irritation that she was really going to reach out and take this olive branch. She’d wanted to hang onto her jealousy for a while longer. Grudges weren’t fun if they ended too quickly. “What did you have in mind?”