Page 44 of The Ruse

“You need to go outside,” I told her breathlessly. “I just messed up big time, and I need you to pretend like you actually did need to talk to Nash about something.”

“What?” Cambrielle set her phone down, looking alarmed. “What happened?”

“I’ll explain later. I just need you to go downstairs and pretend like you planned to meet Nash there all along.”

“Okay…” She still looked confused, but being the awesome friend that she was, she slipped her feet into her boots and pulled on her coat.

As she hurried down the stairs, I moved to the railing of the loft so I could see what was going on. Cambrielle ran across the rug and made it to the front door just as Asher was coming inside.

He held the door open for her to go through, seeming surprised to see her right there. And when he turned back around after shutting the door behind him, his cheeks were flushed.

His cheeks are just flushed from the cold and not from our kiss.

His gaze lifted up to the loft, as if he was looking for me. And when our eyes caught, my heart throbbed and felt like it was going to beat out of my chest because I’d kissed him and he knew it.

And he also knew that I had liked it.

Why did I have to like it? Shouldn’t the Universe have come to my rescue and made me hate it?

I wanted to step away from the rail so he couldn’t just look up at me the way he was with his eyes all mysterious and his lips all pouty pink. But I wanted to make sure Cambrielle made it to Nash, so I gripped the railing for support and tried to ignore Asher.

Cambrielle’s puffy pink coat appeared in one of the windows. I watched her pull Nash over to the bench in front of the next window over.

Was Nash okay?

Was he upset?

Had he seen Asher and me?

Or had Asher said something to him on his way in?

My grip tightened on the railing as I watched their profiles. It was hard to make out their expressions, since the porch light wasn’t as bright as a spotlight. But from what I could see of their body language, Nash didn’t seem upset. He seemed relaxed and happy.

So maybe they were just having a friendly brother-and-sister conversation.

Maybe everything would be okay.

Somewhat satisfied that everything was okay on the Nash front, I tried to look for Asher. I saw that he had moved to the kitchen area and was making himself a cup of hot chocolate.

He grabbed a plastic straw and swirled it around in his disposable coffee cup. Then he lifted the cup to his lips and blew on the hot liquid. He must have sensed my stare, because just as I was looking at the way his mouth was blowing on his drink, his eyes ticked up to me again.

And I hated that my stomach did a little flip when our gazes locked.

Why had he let me kiss him? And why had he kissed me back like that—like he could’ve spent hours kissing me on the porch if we hadn’t been interrupted?

Had he believed that I had actually wanted to kisshim? Was that what had happened? I was pretty sure I’d called him Nash, but Nash and Asher did have a similar sound to them.

Or had he known what was going on all along and had seen it as an opportunity to get the upper hand in the never-ending battle he had going on with his rival?

There was movement in the window. Nash and Cambrielle stood from the bench, and he put his arm around her shoulders in a brotherly way, like they’d just had a special heart-to-heart.

I stepped back from the rail before they could come inside, and I tried to tell myself that everything would be fine.

Nash didn’t know what I’d just done.

Cambrielle had covered up my disaster.

And Asher hadn’t said anything to Nash.

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