Page 33 of The Last Time

I smile up at him. “Asher, it’s clear that they don’t even know there’s something between them.”

“Charlotte, we’re the lucky blue bags,” Layla screams. “No thanks to this asshole who made me rock-paper-scissors over it.”

Oh, geez. Between Asher’s close proximity and these two, I’m thinking I’m gonna need more than a couple of shots.

Speaking of, just as we start the game, the waitress brings us our drinks. I order another strawberry margarita while Asher orders a beer.

I take the first shot right away, then place the other one on the high-top table next to me.

“I didn’t realize it was going to be a shots kind of night,” Asher says, then throws his bag.

I look at his biceps flex as he tosses another one, then grabs the other shot and shoots it back.

“It’s been a long day,” I tell him.

He throws his last bag. While Layla and Josh take their turns, he turns to me. It’s so unnerving having all of this man’s focus on me.

“Was it long because of who you spent it with or what you were doing?” he asks with interest.

The shots must be already going to my head because I feel myself stepping closer to him. I know I shouldn’t, but my body seems to be in charge at the moment.

I lean into him, feeling the slightest touch of our bodies brushing together. I think I hear a sharp inhale coming from his mouth, but I’m too affected to be sure.

“Maybe a bit of both,” I say seductively.

Or I think it comes out seductively. That could be the alcohol making me think there’s something there that isn’t.

“Your turn, guys!” Josh shouts from the other side. “Or do you two wanna keep giving googly eyes at each other?”

Asher steps away from me, and my body instantly misses his warmth.

I throw my bags. One slides into the hole while two of the other three land on the board. Layla shouts in excitement while Asher follows suit with his first bag in the hole. On his final throw, he needs to land it on the board, or we get a point.

I once again find my eyes focusing on his arms, the way his muscles flex while he holds and tosses the beanbags.

His bag lands on the board but slides off onto the grass. Layla is celebrating and getting in Josh’s face.

My hands come up to his arm and wrap around his bicep.

Dammit, he’s strong! My insides quiver, thinking about what he could do to me with his strength. I take one hand off his arm and rest it on his stomach.

“I believe I beat you on this round,” I say, goading him.

I hear the beanbags slamming against the board a foot away from us, but I couldn’t care less if we are winning.

Just when I think Asher is gonna pull away, he surprises me by leaning into my touch.

He looks down at my hand that is resting on his stomach then brings his eyes back to mine.

“You better be careful, Charlotte. I’m not a perfect gentleman, and you’re poking the bear.”

I should heed his warning—it’s the smart thing to do…but I don’t. Instead, I let my hand fall a couple of inches south.

I wish there was nobody else around us. His body tenses, and his face tells me he is close to snapping.

Instead, he steps away from me and grabs his bags off the board. I try to compose myself but end up downing the rest of my margarita while he takes his turn.

The rest of the evening starts to blur together. What I thought was going to be a relaxing evening with friends took a vastly different turn.

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