Page 98 of The First Spark

End of story.

“I don’t get it,” Mina mutters.

I’m about ten seconds away from sprinting to the basement to grab my bottle of whiskey.

“Get what?”

“You had a great time with him. It’s obvious he did, too.”

“You heard him talking to Raven the day of the festival,”I snap, losing my temper despite my best efforts. “You heard herintimatewhy Ash slept with me. You were there, Mina.”

She raises her hands in surrender, realizing she’s overstepped. “I also know he came looking for you after the festival and Raven wasn’t with him. He was upset that you had left.”

“Doubt it,” I mutter. “He was just trying to save face. Nothing more. Look, I’m fine, okay? It’s over and done with. Can we talk about something else?”

Mina nods, flipping on the radio. “How about some music? I can blast death metal and let you work out your aggravation that way.”

Fuck it, I need to relax. Get a grip. Move on.

Chuckling, I shrug off the tension in my shoulders. “Death metal is never the answer, but I’m always up for some grunge. You know,myera of music.”

Mina grins at my comment. “Deal.”

A Pearl Jam song sounds through the speakers and I hum along, shaking off the malaise. It’s hardly the end of the world and soon, I’ll be lounging at Mina’s with a cold brew and a rom-com.

It’s going to be okay.

Hey, I get it. Mina’s a fellow member of the diehard romantics club, and she held out hope that true love might blossom between sworn enemies—a real-life romance born from of one night of wild passion.

For a second, I did, too.

The rest of my staff couldn’t care less if Ash and I made out, so long as we made up. Employees of both One More Page and Black Lotus are just relieved the war is over,that Ash and I can coexist in this shared space without the glares and muttered insults.

When our paths cross, we’re friendly. Neighborly.

It’s a far cry from our former relationship, but somehow, I think it’s worse.

Worse, because I can’t stop reliving my night with Ash—the feel of his mouth against mine, the weight of his body on top of me, his grizzly laugh, and the hint of a dimple when he smiles.

Worse still, because I know he used me to get my signature and Istillfantasize about the man. That is some serious pull.

But I’ve counted three women in Ash’s company this past week, and I’m sure I’m underselling him. There are seven nights in the week, and no doubt he’s had a different beauty warming his bed for each one.

I’m long forgotten at this point.

So why can’t I stop thinking about him?

Yes, our romp was epic, to quote my sex-sated self, but how many other women have used that term to describe Asher Hammond? Dozens? Hundreds?

What does it matter, anyway?

Somehow, despite my insistence that my heart not get involved in Ash’s world, the damn organ refused to listen.

I feel something for him. Something I’ve never felt for any man.

Of all the men in the world, I fall for the one who’s incapable of commitment. Incapable of loving beyond the carnal.

Oriana, you never fail to exceed expectations.

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