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“Yeah, well, maybe for you,” I laugh, snorting a little. “But not for me. I have no plans to be wed or bred anytime soon.”
“You may not, but don’t think they weren’t made for you.”
My head snaps back, the implication of her comment making the skin on the back of my neck prick. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Asher clears his throat and cuts me off before I can press for an answer. “Mir, how about you go outside? I thought I saw Carter’s older brother arrive a few minutes ago.”
She looks over her shoulder, eyes lighting up. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” Asher nods toward the pool. “By the grill.”
And like that, without another word, she’s off like a fly to shit.
“God I hate your sister,” I say with a breath of relief once she’s gone.
“Yeah, well the feeling is mutual,” he laughs.
“Why?” I scoff. “What did I ever do to her?”
“You exist.” He shrugs. “Mir hates competition.”
“What?” I laugh at the incredulity of his comment.
“Sorry.” He leans back against the counter and laughs once. “Truth hurts, babe.”
I lean back, matching his stance. “I can take the truth. What I can’t take is assholes.”
“Oh, wow,” he grins. “All right, Butler. Easy tiger.”
“Well, it’s true. Not to mention, I have no idea who she thinks we’re competing for.”
He stares at me and nods, a smile tugging at his lips. “Can I ask you a question?”
Taking a sip of tea, I eye him over the glass, wondering if this is my chance to get something out of him. He seemed to be in the talking mood and was next on my list.
Asher’s dad was publisher ofThe Elmhurst Gazette, the first to break the news on my father’s death. Coincidentally, he was also the first to report on the news of my father’s case being reopened.
I heard my Momma on the phone with his dad as soon as she saw the story a few weeks back. She read him the riot act for not contacting her to give her a head’s up. When he came by to offer his apology the next day, she was bitingly cold and, to my knowledge, hadn’t talked to him since.
“Sure,” I straighten, deciding a question for a question seems fair. “If you answer one of mine.”
“All right.” He tilts his head and nods. “I’ll go first. Why didn’t you go out with me on a second date last year?”
“You already asked that.”
“Color me curious.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You really want to know?”
“Yeah,” he sets his drink down. “I do.”
Out of our inner circle Asher was the best looking. Like Jake Ryan inSixteen Candles, but with a truck, not a Porsche. At one time he would’ve been the only one I’d considered going out with, and actually gave the idea a bit of thought when I asked him to be my escort for Homecoming last fall.
We’d fooled around that night after sharing a bottle of peach schnapps. He was a good kisser and his hands were warm and his mouth hot. But a little voice in the back of my head stoppedme when I thought about taking our make out session a step farther.
I feigned being too buzzed to do anything more than kiss and surprisingly, he hadn’t pushed it. He spent the rest of the night with his football buddies, then dropped me off at home with a kiss goodnight, and that was it.
Deciding a lie in this case might get me one step closer to what I am after, I tell him what I know he wants to hear.
