Page 32 of Wish You Were Mine

“I could have stabbed you,” I squeaked as he knocked the air from me.

He scoffed. “You handle sharp tools all the time. You wouldn’t make an amateur mistake like that.”

I rolled my eyes and pushed him away. “Usually, I handle them around animals that are already unconscious and, you know, not moving.”

“Psh. Details.” He waved his hand like it didn’t matter.

I sliced into the cake and cut several segments, then took a portion for myself and stepped aside. If there were fewer people here, I’d serve everyone individually, but there were too many—it seemed like half of Destiny Falls had turned up for our birthday party—so I’d just let them take what they wanted.

Bailey appeared beside me. “What did you wish for?”

I raised my eyebrow at her. “You know I can’t tell you or it might not come true.”

I glanced at Asher again, but he was no longer looking my way. Instead, he was smiling at Liam, his sexy mouth hooked up at the corner. How would it feel to kiss him there?

“Someone’s superstitious,” Bailey said. “I bet I can guess what it is, but it’s more fun to leave it as a secret.”

Gratitude surged through me. I suspected Bailey could, indeed, guess exactly what I’d wished for, and I appreciated her for not pushing the matter.

“I heard that Zane offered to set Asher up with his cousin, but he refused,” Bailey murmured, low enough for only me to hear.

My eyes found Asher again, inextricably drawn to him. We hadn’t spoken since he’d told me he wasn’t interested in me, and the wound was still fresh. It didn’t stop me from wanting him, but it stung nonetheless.

“That’s surprising,” I replied.

Asher didn’t seem to have any qualms about dating as many women as possible. Not that he was a playboy. I doubted many of the dates progressed beyond a kiss on the cheek, but he certainly wasn’t choosy about whom he took out.

Other than me.

“Maybe he’s already interested in someone else,” Bailey said, bouncing her eyebrows meaningfully.

Hope zapped through me, but I ruthlessly stomped it down.

“If he is, it isn’t me,” I said.

She looked disappointed. “Why do you assume the worst? You never know. Maybe he’s finally come around.”

I sighed. “Or maybe he’s in his thirties and has less energy to date all the time.”

A group of Toby’s friends rushed past, heading for the empty fire pit. The sun had dipped beneath the horizon and apparently they’d decided it was time to light the fire. Toby was in the thick of it, tossing wood and beer boxes into the pit while one of his friends messed around with a box of matches.

“Sometimes I wonder if they’re still twelve,” I said.

Bailey rested the side of her head against mine. “It’s nice that they still get excited about things.”

“I guess.”

The fire flickered to life. One of the guys opened a massive bag of marshmallows and they were all sticking them onto skewers to hold over the fire.

“Want to toast some marshmallows?” I asked.

“Definitely.” She flashed me a dazzling grin. “Cook off?”

“You’re on.”

We strolled over, making our way through the cluster of people around the marshmallow bag. A cooler of beer stood nearby, although I doubted there was much point in using it. The air was already crisp. Hopefully the fire would take the edge off the cold.

I grabbed a skewer and poked it through a marshmallow, then held it just above the fire, rotating the marshmallow slowly to achieve an even spread of golden brown. Bailey’s marshmallow joined mine, but she dipped it too close to the flame and it caught on fire and fell into the pit.

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