A doctor and a gentleman! I hated him. They exchanged a few more words. I wasn’t sure what, because I’d had to turn now. Out of the corner of my eye, I did see them hug, though. Properly hug. A long, borderline inappropriate hug in which he ran his hand down to her lower back. It was the kind of hug that had a certain type of familiarity to it that only came from . . .sex! They’d had sex. But Ash had said all her sexual encounters had been bad, and this did not look bad. This looked like the after-effects of good sex.
“Who was that?” I tried to ask casually when we’d fetched our bags and were climbing into the transfer vehicle, but I could hear an edge in my voice.
“This guy I dated for a while. Actually, probably my longest relationship since you.”
Dagger through my heart now! So painful I almost gripped my chest. I retaliated. I shouldn’t have.
“Why did it end?” I asked.
She looked down at her phone and answered with an air of evasiveness. “Uh, it just didn’t work out.”
“Thought you were on a dating detox,” I said.
“That’s actually none of your business,” she said firmly. “It’s none of your business who I do, or don’t choose to date.”
“You seemed to make Beverly your business.”
She stopped walking and swung round. “That was very different.”
“How exactly was that different?” I asked.
“This was an invite to dinner, not what looked to be an invite to bed. Besides, after last night, we’re over all that other stuff, right?”
She looked at me expectantly, and when I didn’t answer, a look of mini-panic swept her face briefly.
“Aren’t we?”
“Are you?” I threw it back at her, which clearly made her uncomfortable.
“There is sexual tension between us, okay. Obviously. But after last night, we don’t have to act on it—that’s what I’m saying.”
“We don’t have to act on it,” I repeated, and she squirmed.
“No . . . we don’t.” She looked as if she was trying to convince herself now.
“And I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “You’re right. Who you date, or don’t date, is absolutely none of my business.”
“That’s right?” She held my gaze and the statement felt more like a question. I matched her gaze.
“Unless you want it to be?” I answered the question I was sure she was asking me.
“Why would I?” She tore her eyes from mine. “That would be . . . ridiculous. Right?”
“Are you making statements here, Ash? Or are you asking questions that you want me to answer for you?”
“I’m not,” she said quickly and defensively, holding my gaze again.
“Because I can’t answer them for you. You have to answer them yourself.”
I broke the eye contact with her and walked away.
“Exactly,” she said, and then walked away too.
CHAPTER 42
Ash
Ash:Bumped into hot doc in the airport.
