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He rolled his eyes at her, snatching the bag of Twizzlers and threatening to throw them out the window ‘if she was going to be so sassy.’ She laughed loudly, begging for the bag back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
He tossed the bag back to her. “For your information, my favorite food is pizza.”
“Really?”
Asher nodded. “Don’t look so surprised. New York has some of the best pizza in the world.”
“I just assumed you’d have expensive taste.”
“And I just assumed your favorite food would be fried chicken andmashed taters,”he teased, assuming a fake Southern drawl.
“Fair enough,” she relented. “What about your second favorite?”
“Now,that’scaviar.” She stared at him for a moment, realizing he was joking and laughing again until her stomach burned and her eyes watered. When she’d calmed, he cleared his throat. “No, but seriously, when I was a kid Ionlyate pizza. Like, it was the only food group in my life.”
“That sounds…super unhealthy.”
“It totally was. My parents had this world-class chef, and literally the only thing he could fix that I would eat was pizza. I even got creative when my parents told me I couldn’t request pizza anymore and started asking him to make ‘azzip.’”
She furrowed her brow, taking another bite of her Twizzler. “Azzip? What’s that?”
“Azzip. Backwards pizza,” he said with a laugh. He held his hand out flat in front of his mouth as if he were eating a slice of pizza and rotated his hand so that his fingers were closest to his lips before giving her a wink. “I invented it when I was seven.”
“Oh my God, that’s either completely terrible or complete genius.”
He patted his chest. “Well, my parents didn’t find it nearly as funny. Needless to say, my belt is very grateful that they pretty much banned pizza from our house after that. But if I’m given the choice, pizza is still my number one.” He pointed to the sky, pretending to have tears in his eyes.
She rolled her eyes. “You’re funny, Asher Grace. Why didn’t I realize you were funny before?”
He lowered the volume of a John Legend song on the radio as they slowed to turn onto a new street. “I guess I was trying too hard to impress you before.”
“You didn’t think this would impress me?”
He shook his head. “Nah, girls don’t want funny guys. I mean, sure, every girl says they do, but only when that funny guy also has six-pack abs, a chiseled jaw, and a few extra zeros in his bank account.”
She dropped her jaw. “But you have all of those things, Asher.”
“I know,” he said sheepishly. “But a guy can only show off so many things at once. And speaking of showing off…” He pointed out the window, and her gaze followed his finger, looking out as a line of three houses came into view.
Housewas a bit of an understatement, if she was being honest.Cabindidn’t even come close. What she was staring at were nothing short of rustic mansions with scenic views of snow-capped mountains. Large, picturesque windows lined the front of each house, giving a darkened view of whatever was happening inside. Dark-cherry stained wood sided each building, leading out to balconies that overlooked the thick forests behind the houses. It looked like something from a magazine. Something from a dream.
“Whoa,” Blythe said, plopping her feet onto the floorboard as she leaned forward to get a better view. “This is incredible.”
“Yeah,” Asher agreed, pulling down a long, gravel driveway.
“Forget funny. You should’ve led with this.”
Chapter Thirteen
Asher led Blythe into the middle house, insisting on carrying her bag inside. When they walked through the door, Blythe let out another gasp. It was beautiful—not that she was surprised. Rustic, yet modern, the perfect mix of wood-lined walls, fur rugs, and gold-plated art. The glass windows gave her a gorgeous view of the land surrounding the house, and it was enough for her to spend a full day taking it all in.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Asher asked, setting their bags down and walking up behind her, one hand on her waist. He spun her around, pressing her back to the glass and lowering his lips to hers slowly. The kiss was sensual in a way he hadn’t been before. He was in his element here. Or maybe it was just her change of heart. Either way, it had a chill running down to her toes.
His palms trailed around the hem of her shirt, his thumbs sliding under the fabric to meet her skin. Her tongue danced with his as he let out a low moan and leaned in further. Their legs were tangled, breaths growing faster when she pushed him away gently.
“Asher,” she scolded, pulling her shirt down. “We can’t do this here.”
“Why not?” he asked, twirling a piece of her hair around his finger.
