Page 93 of The First Spark

“Not me.”

Ash pivots and wraps his hands about my waist, pullingme close. “And because of you, it’s now happening. The dream is coming true.”

Don’t read into it, Ori. Don’t fall back into these feelings again, no matter how incredible he feels.

I shirk free of his embrace and offer a stilted laugh. “Nothing to do with me. I’m just the neighbor who gave you the go-ahead instead of grief.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, his expression unreadable in the shadowy dark. “You’re so much more than that.”

My phone rings from inside my truck, pulling me out of the moment. I realize I'm now officially late for my dinner date. No doubt Roger is either making small talk with the hostess or teetering on the edge of a meltdown. “Shit. So much for being punctual. He’s going to kill me.”

“Hebetter not,” Ash grumbles, watching me carefully. “Where are you headed, anyway?”

“Out,” I reply with a casual shrug.

“Out,” he repeats slowly, as if tasting the word on his tongue. “That’s all the info I get? Really?”

Wait a minute—did he just get snarky with me? Because if he did, he’s about to regret it. I’m the queen of snark, and he’ll wish he hadn’t walked this path.

Especially after the events of the past week.

I shoot him a pointed glare. “Does getting a jump depend on that information?”

He pulls himself to his full height, which is imposing, if not a bit ridiculous, next to my diminutive stature. Then he locks his stony gaze on me, and despite the low light, there’s no mistaking the storm in his verdant eyes. “Yes. If you’re headed to the grocery store, no problem. But a date? That’s a different story.”

“You’re joking.”

“I am, but now I know where you’re running off to tonight.”

Ash’s response leaves me with two choices: tell him the truth about my dinner plans or let him stew, wondering about my hot date for the evening. But here’s what Ash doesn’t know—it’s not just Raven’s snide comments the other day that have me on edge. No, that would be too easy, too petty for a woman my age. It was seeing him ride past my apartment that same night with some leggy woman clinging to him on the back of his bike, her arms wrapped around him like a lifeline. I have zero idea if it was Raven or some other member of Ash’s roster, but for me, it was the last straw.

After that sighting, I’m fully embracing my pettiness. Let him sweat a little, though I’m sure he’s already lined up at least one date for tonight. He is Asher Hammond, after all.

Releasing a soft grunt, I plant my hands on my hips. “I’m already late. Will you help me, or do I need to call AAA?”

An odd expression washes across Ash’s face as he attaches the cables to the battery terminals. “Get in and start your truck.”

I do as he asks, a relieved smile crossing my face when the engine turns over.

Ash detaches the jumper cables and lowers the hoods on both trucks before strolling to my driver’s side window.

I lower the window, greeting him with a grateful grin. “Thank you.”

He taps the roof of my truck, his jaw tight with tension. “No problem. You should have jumper cables uphere, just in case. I’ll grab you a pair the next time I’m out.”

“You don’t have to do that.” I rub my hands together, blowing into them in a desperate attempt to warm my frozen fingers.

“I don’t mind.”

See? This is what I hate about Asher Hammond—the sweet, thoughtful side that completely contradicts his ruthless playboy reputation.

Fine, Ilovethis side of him, but it messes with my head, and trust me, the man’s already taken a blender to my emotions.

“Thanks for saving me, Mr. Hammond. You’ll have to let me make it up to you.”

Once again, the heat rises in my cheeks, fully aware of the double entendre of my words. Do I mean them? Who knows at this point?

Ash leans in through my open window, and his scent drifts over me—a heady blend of leather, cedar, and pure confidence that is unmistakably him and dangerously irresistible to my hormones.

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