Page 101 of The First Spark

He didnotjust ask me that question.

“Excuse me?” I snap, perching on a side chair to pull on my leggings. We need to end this chat, and fast. It’s swiftly turning hazardous for my health.

He paces my office, his hands flexing as he walks. “Who is it this time? Plaid patches? Dead battery?”

I furrow my brow at the pointed questions flying from his mouth in rapid-fire succession. “What the hell are you talking about? Plaid patches?”

He halts in his pacing and turns to face me, the anger cutting lines into his face. “The fucking men you’ve been with this past week. I don’t know their fucking names, nor do I care to know them.”

Looks like Ash woke up and chose violence today. Well, I can play that game, too.

I march over to where he stands, arms crossed, and thrust two fingers under his nose. “Here are two answers for you. One, it’s none of your damn business, and two, it’s far less thanyourcurrent weekly rotation. Trust me on that.”

Ash tugs a hand through his hair, but he’s not backing down. “That’s a lie because I haven’t been on any dates this week.”

I hate playboys, but I hate liars more, especially when I’ve seen the man in action with my own two eyes. “What about your buddy, Raven? Or the little blonde outside your shop? How about the woman on the back of your motorcycle the other night? Want me to keep going?”

As soon as I speak the words aloud, I realize something. I sound a bit like a crazed stalker, knowing at least a percentage of the women Ash has hung out with in the last several days.

Then again, he seems to possess a list of my purported dates, as well.

Ash leans in, and I see the fire burning in his eyes. “What about you? There was that night at the bar with Kiki, the holiday festival where you ghosted me, and now there’s tonight. The truth is, you’ve spent all this time running from me. The only time I actually kept hold of you was when I locked us in the basement.”

I snap my fingers, recalling yet another member of Team Asher Hammond. “That’s right. I forgot about the bartender?—”

But I halt mid-sentence as his words sink in. Wait … did I hear him right?

Locked us in the basement?

Screwing my eyes shut, I freeze, shaking my head to clear it. “Hang on a second. You did what?”

Ash skews his mouth to the side as a faint hint of color climbs his cheeks. “Uh … yeah. About that night, I had a key to the basement door.”

“You locked us in there intentionally? What if I had freaked out from being claustrophobic or something?”

“Obviously, if you’d freaked out, I would have opened the door. But I needed time alone with you without the rest of the world butting in.”

Planting my hands on my hips, I offer a defeated shake of my head. “You really needed that signature, didn’t you? Well, it worked. Congratulations.”

He reaches out, grasping my fingers. “That isn’t why, but can I ask you something?”

I stare at our intertwined hands, loving the look of his tatted digits enveloping mine. “Sure.”

“Do you regret what happened between us that night?”

Of all the questions in the world, that was not on my bingo card. Cutting my gaze to his, I shoot him a tremulous smile. “I should, right? Protect my modesty and reputation in Sparkwood, since I’m the new girl in town and you are infamous for your storied history. But I don’t regret that night. I had a good time with you.”

He cocks a brow at me. “Justa good time?”

With a snort, I pull my hand from his grasp. “Please don’t tell me your ego needs stroking. Don’t you have enough local women to do that for you?”

“Answer the question.”

Why not give him the truth, right? It’s not like he doesn’t know how talented he is in bed.

“It was phenomenal, okay? Perfection, if you must know. But you have made it abundantly clear that you don’t agree with my opinion of that night’s events.”

“I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you.”

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