Clearly, he hadn’t gone through with it.
Or maybe Harper had turned down his advances.
“Did you ever have feelings for Harper?” I ask. It shouldn’t matter, but I need to know if that’s why Dante suggested it.
Had he seen something between them? Perhaps a spark?
“I love you, Nova,” Ashton says and takes a step closer toward me.
I back up, needing to keep ample space between us. Ashton moves closer toward me, but he still keeps his distance.
His room isn’t overly large, and I bump up against his closet door, grimacing when the doorknob pokes me in the back. “You didn’t answer my question. Did you have feelings for Harper?”
“When I first met her, yes, sure.”
He doesn’t even deny it.
Heat flames my cheeks and I push away from one door, heading for another, the exit out of his bedroom.
Ashton grabs my arm, pulling me within his reach, not letting me walk away. “I don’t love her. I love you,” he says.
“You love the mafia too,” I whisper, staring into those dark pools that suck me in. I glance away, worried if I stare too long, he’ll pull me back into his world.
“Of all people, Nova, I thought you’d understand.” His hand moves down my arm to my fingers, trying to hold my hand, but I don’t let him latch on. I keep my palm flat, while he flexes his digits around my hand. “I don’t want this to be over between us.”
I bite my tongue, trying not to give way to the emotions surfacing.
Does he think I want us to break up?
It’s the last thing that I want to happen, but I also don’t want secrets between us. There are always secrets when you live and breathe the mafia.
“You could rule the city beside me,” Ashton says, staring straight into me. “I’ve seen the fire in your soul, you have a talent for it.”
I shrug his hand away and fold my arms again, keeping space between us. “You’re all talk. Besides, do you think your father is just going to retire the day after you graduate?”
“Well, no.” Ashton glances out the window. “He’ll train me, take me under his wing.”
“You’ll be his second, the same job as my father.” I’m not intending to mock him, but I’m appalled. “I’m not marrying my father!”
“Who said anything about marrying—” Ashton grabs both of my hands and drags me with him to sit at the edge of his bed. “Babe, I love you. We’re not running headfirst down an icy mountainside. The work I’ll do for my father, yes, I’m sure it will be dangerous, but he’s not going to risk the life of his son. That isn’t how my father operates. He wanted me to go to college so I could do better than he did, be better. Stronger. Smarter.”
“And wouldn’t that mean not following in his footsteps?”
He laughs under his breath. “It’s not that simple. Besides, like I told you, I’m majoring in Criminology. I’m not going to be putting men like my father behind bars.”
I can’t believe him. He thinks what he’s doing is noble, like he’s going to make an actual difference. Maybe in his own life, but he’s not going to be helping anyone else. “Which leaves you as the criminal mastermind. Real hot.”
“Isn’t it?”
“That was sarcasm.” I blanch. “I’m not marrying my father.”
“And I’m not proposing,” Ashton says, staring at me. He rests a hand on my thigh, the gesture far too intimate right now. He’s not trying to arouse me, but his touch is distracting.
He’s distracting.
I press my lips together and scoot back on the bed, keeping out of his reach.
“Right, you’ve already made that clear. You’re not going to marry me. Just date me.” I don’t know why I sound so bitter. I’m not ready to settle down or have an engagement ring on my finger. It’s just the way he keeps reminding me that he’s not proposing, it burns.
