Page 91 of Wish You Were Mine

Asher rolled his eyes. “In all seriousness,” he said to Dad, “what do you think we should do? I’m sure Liam will tell Kennedy and word will get around soon.”

Dad tapped his chin thoughtfully. “How do you feel about announcing it to everyone at a Sunday brunch? Heather and I would be happy to host one this weekend.”

I exchanged a glance with Asher and nodded.

“That would be great,” he said. “Thank you.”

People were inclined to be in a good mood at the Braddock brunches, so perhaps that would ease the way.

“I need to get back to the bar,” Dad said. He squeezed my shoulder. “Congratulations again. Don’t worry. Most people will be pleased for you.”

He left, and Asher and I sat with Zane for a while longer. Eventually, he declared that he was exhausted and ready for bed, so I grabbed my jacket and the three of us walked out together. Zane strolled off toward his place while Asher and I lingered on the sidewalk.

“It feels kind of ridiculous that we have to officially announce our relationship before we’ve even gotten naked together,” I said quietly. “It’s a bit Victorian England.”

Asher shrugged. “Maybe, but that’s just what happens when people who are already closely connected begin dating.”

“I suppose so.” I hesitated. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him yet, but maybe I wouldn’t have to. After all, the person whose reaction he’d been most worried about already knew the truth. Was there any reason for us not to go all-in now?

“What is it?” he asked, searching my eyes in the dark.

I bit my lip. “Since the cat is already out of the bag, perhaps I could come home with you tonight?”

He gazed at me for a long moment, then smiled wickedly. “Yes. You definitely should.”

43

SUMMER

Nerves riddled my gut as we stopped by my place for me to grab a change of clothes and some toiletries before continuing on to Asher’s house. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would mean to spend the night with him.

I didn’t know whether to expect sex or just some snuggling. Hell, knowing Ash’s misguided chivalry, maybe he’d end up sleeping on the couch, determined not to sully Liam’s baby sister until after the announcement of our relationship at brunch.

I parked outside his place and got out of the car, slinging my bag over my shoulder. Asher must have beaten me here by a couple of minutes because his car was dark, but a light shone through the house’s front window.

I shivered as I got out of the car and fumbled with the flashlight app on my phone. I needed the light to find my way up the path to his front door. I knocked, and he called for me to come in. I entered and took off my shoes, leaving them beside the door.

Cookie sauntered over to me and stretched, arching her back. I bent and patted her, then scratched behind her ears and rubbed under her chin. She purred loudly and sunk her claws into the carpet.

“I’m in the living room,” Asher called.

I walked through. The air inside was a few degrees warmer because he’d started the heat pump and the window was no longer boarded up. The window had been replaced, and I watched as Asher drew the curtains, blocking out the outside world.

I shuddered at the idea that someone out there might otherwise have been able to see in. I was reasonably convinced that someone intended Asher harm, but he didn’t want to see the truth. I supposed that if someone hated me enough to want to poison my cat and smash my window, I wouldn’t want to believe it either.

Asher took my bag from me. “I’ll put this in my bedroom.” He hesitated. “Is that okay?”

I nodded, and as he left, I scooped Cookie up, carried her to the sofa, and sat with her on my lap. She pulled away, and I let her go. She leapt to the floor and shot me a disdainful look over her shoulder, as if reminding me that I could only snuggle her when she allowed it.

Fair enough. Consent mattered.

Asher returned a few seconds later and sat beside me, pulling me into his arms. I melted against his strong body and rested my head on his shoulder. My mind wouldn’t calm though. It raced, unsure where this night was heading and what I ought to do to prepare.

“You seem nervous,” he murmured against my hair.

I sighed, embarrassed to be called on it. “A little.”

“Why?”

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