Page 12 of Summer with a Player

"I guess we can help each other find those missing pieces, huh?" Asher suggests playfully, bumping his shoulder against mine.

"I guess," I smile, feeling butterflies swirl around my heart.

We walk back to the shore in comfortable silence for a while. Until Asher suddenly stops and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a small charm – a tiny crystal ball – and hands it to me.

"Here," he says and reaches into his pocket. "I picked this up at a downtown shop in Denver when I was there last week. It’s a little something that reminds me of you."

"Thank you, Asher," I say, touched by his thoughtfulness. "You really didn't have to do this."

"Of course, I did," he insists, his smile reaching his eyes. "It's not every day I meet someone as fascinating and talented as my gypsy girl."

My heart skips a beat at the endearment. It’s so sweet. He’s so sweet.

"Come on," he says, taking my hand gently. "Let's keep walking."

As we continue down the beach, I realize that I’m leading us to my house.

Just as Serenity Village comes into view, I turn to Asher and ask, "Do you want to come home with me?"

"Are you sure?" he asks, looking at me intently.

I nod, feeling a rush of adrenaline. It's time for me to let go a little.

"Absolutely," I reply with a wide smile.

Asher leans down and his lips meet mine, and soon the tender touch turns heated. Our mouths move in sync, exploring and tasting, as our bodies press close. I feel alive and connected – to him, to myself, and to the world around us.

We break apart, panting slightly. The scent of the ocean mixes with Asher's cologne, creating an intoxicating aroma that only heightens my arousal for this man.

"Lead the way," Asher says, his voice deep and husky.

Asher and I approach my house, our fingers intertwined.

"I remember your place being cute last time I walked you home, but I forgot how tiny it was. Do you think I will even fit inside of that thing?" Asher asks with a warm smile, admiring the bohemian exterior of my tiny sanctuary.

I laugh out loud. "Thanks for the compliment. It's been my safe haven for years, and yes, you will fit. It’s kind of like living in an efficiency apartment," I respond, feeling a sense of pride in sharing my world with him.

"Speaking of cute," he teases, gently tapping my nose with his free hand. I laugh, secretly adoring his playful side.

"Watch it, mister," I warn, smiling back at him.

We step inside, and the heat in his eyes sends an electric jolt from my head to my core.

"Would you like something to drink?" I ask, trying to steady my racing thoughts.

"Sure, what have you got?" Asher replies, his voice betraying a hint of nervous excitement.

I pour us each a glass of wine, and as I hand one to him, our fingers brush against each other. An involuntary sigh slips out. Asher mirrors my reaction, flashing me a knowing grin.

"Cheers," we say in unison, clinking glasses and sharing a giggle.

As we sip our wine and exchange stories, each tale is punctuated by a stolen kiss or gentle touch. Every time Asher's hand brushes against me or his gaze locks onto mine, the electric current intensifies.

"Elle," he murmurs, setting his wine glass down and reaching for me. "I can't tell you how much tonight has meant to me."

"Me too," I whisper, and there goes those darn butterflies through my chest again.

We share another kiss, our lips exploring each other's, as if savoring the taste of this night.

---