Page 30 of The Backup

And for the first time all week, the tight knot in my chest finally loosens.

“You taste like wine,” I grin.

“So do you. Maybe you were just tasting yourself.”

I laugh. “Is that supposed to be…a dirty joke?”

Her lips twitch into a sly smile. “I don’t know. Did it work?”

“Depends,” I say, tilting my head. “I mean, I guess we’ll find out soon.”

“So are you trying to impress me with your sparkling wit or your impeccable taste in cheap wine?” She jokes.

I gasp in mock offense, nudging me with her elbow. “Hey, I brought the good stuff!”

“Good stuff, huh?” She holds up the cup and takes a dramatic sip, smacking her lips. “Vintage 2024, notes of…boxed grapes and desperation?”

“Not boxed,” I joke. “Maybe I should have gotten boxed.”

She swats at me, laughing. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, you kissed me,” I say, my grin widening.

“Temporary lapse in judgment,” she says, trying to sound casual, but the way her cheeks flush gives her away.

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it?” I tease, leaning just a little closer. “Because I was about to suggest we make it a regular thing.”

Her gaze flicks to mine, her smile softening. “You don’t let up, do you?”

“Only when it comes to you,” I say, my voice lowering slightly.

Her expression shifts, and for a moment, the teasing falls away. She looks at me like she’s trying to decide if this is real, if we’re real. Then she shakes her head, her grin returning.

“You’re smooth, Asher,” she says, taking another sip of wine.

I shrug. “You bring it out of me.”

She laughs again, and the sound reverberates through me like a favorite song.

“Okay, hotshot,” she says, setting her cup down and leaning back against the truck. “If you’re so smooth, what’s your plan to keep impressing me?”

I smirk, lying back beside her and pointing to the sky. “You see that star right there?”

She squints, following my finger. “Which one?”

“The brightest one,” I say. “That’s my backup plan. If all else fails, I’m naming it after you.”

She snorts, rolling her eyes. “You can’t name a star after me. That’s not how it works.”

“Sure it is,” I reply, turning to look at her. “All I have to do is say it: That one? Officially yours now. Sloane’s star.”

Her laugh is softer this time, and she looks at me like I’ve somehow surprised her again. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, here you are,” I say, holding her gaze.

She doesn’t respond right away, but the way her lips curve into a small, genuine smile says more than words ever could.

“Maybe I like ridiculous,” she says softly, and just like that, I know I’m in way deeper than I ever planned to be.

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