I take a sip to buy time, trying to ignore the way the idea of seeing Asher flirt with someone else makes my stomachturn. ‘So, what, you chat up some other heiress tonight and I laugh too hard at someone else’s jokes?’
He gives me a wry grin. ‘Something like that.’
‘Fine.’ It comes out much harsher than I’d intended.
Asher blinks, then tilts his head just slightly. ‘You okay?’
‘Of course,’ I say, too fast. ‘Completely fine. Flirt away. I’ll find someone equally vapid to laugh with.’
He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘Do you not want to do this?’
‘Yes,’ I say with a sigh. ‘I do, and I mean it’s not like we have any other choice.’
He studies me for a long moment, the kind that makes me feel like he’s seeing more than I want him to. Then, slowly, he takes a step closer.
‘I didn’t mean…’ His voice drops lower. ‘I didn’t mean that Iwantto flirt with anyone else.’
I purse my lips. ‘I didn’t—’
‘If I could, I’d skip the whole weekend and just…’ He trails off, searching for the right words. His eyes find mine again. ‘I’d rather spend it with you.’
I ignore the way my chest tightens and shake my head. ‘Careful,’ I murmur. ‘You keep saying things like that and a girl could really start to fall for you.’
Another step closer. ‘Would that really be such a problem?’
I swallow. ‘Yes, because we’re supposed to be pretending like we’re incompatible, not…’ I gesture helplessly between us. ‘Whatever this is.’
It hits me that this is the first time I’ve ever admitted outloud that there is something here between us. I wonder if he realises.
Asher’s mouth curves slightly. ‘We’re not very good at pretending, are we?’
He takes another slow step towards me, and the distance between us shrinks to almost nothing. It’s only then that his gaze flicks over to the mirror behind me and catches on the half-zipped back of my dress.
He clears his throat. ‘You didn’t finish zipping up.’
‘Oh. Right.’ My hand flies to the back of my neck like I can somehow fix it by sheer force of embarrassment. ‘I was waiting for Sloane to come and help, but you got here first.’
He hesitates. ‘Do you wantmyhelp?’
I should say no. I should laugh and wave it off and send him out of the room before this moment turns into something it shouldn’t.
But I’m apparently my own worst enemy and my voice betrays me.
‘Yeah,’ I murmur, turning around. ‘Please.’
Slowly, he closes in on me. I can feel his breath ghosting against my shoulder as his fingers find the zipper, the slither of cool metal brushing against the bare skin of my spine.
‘Tell me if I’m—’
‘You’re fine,’ I breathe, though my pulse disagrees entirely.
The zipper slides upward with a soft, steady rasp that feels louder than it should in the quiet of my room. His fingertips skim lightly over my back, and suddenly it feels like I’m on fire.
I inhale sharply. His fingertips graze against my skin again and I feel a line of warmth tracing up my spine.
We both look up at the same time. Our eyes meet in the mirror.
The world tilts.
