Page 29 of The Backup

She studies me, her gaze soft. “That’s a good dream, Asher.”

“So is yours,” I say. “And you’re closer than you think.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re already brave enough to know what you want,” I say, holding her gaze. “That’s more than most people can say.”

Her expression shifts, a mix of surprise and something else—something that makes me feel like maybe I’m the distraction she needed after all.

We sit in the quiet for a while, the stars overhead keeping us company. I grab a bottle of wine from the small cooler in the back and pour us each a cup. She takes hers, wrapping both hands around it like it’s her anchor.

“You came prepared,” she says, her lips quirking up in a half-smile.

“Distractions are my specialty, remember?”

She rolls her eyes but takes a sip, her shoulders relaxing just a little. I watch her as she stares up at the sky, her lips glistening faintly from the wine.

“This is nice,” she says after a moment. “No noise, no pressure…just this.”

I nod, taking a sip of my own. “Sometimes you gotta leave the world behind for a bit to remember who you are.”

Her gaze flicks to me, something thoughtful in her expression. “You always do that? Take people out here to ‘find themselves’?”

“Nah,” I say, shaking my head. “Just you.”

The words come out before I can stop them, and her cheeks flush in the dim light. She looks down at her cup, then back up at the stars.

We sip in silence for a while, the wine loosening the edges of her tension. Her fingers brush the rim of the cup as she speaks. “You’re not what I expected,” she says quietly.

“Good or bad?”

She laughs softly. “Good, I think.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You think?”

She smirks, then shakes her head. “You’re complicated. Annoyingly thoughtful when I’m trying to be mad at you.”

I grin. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Don’t apologize,” she says, her voice quieter now. Her gaze meets mine, and there’s something in it—hesitation, curiosity, and a flicker of something bolder.

She sets her cup down in the truck bed and turns to me. For a second, I think she’s about to say something, but then she leans in, her eyes locked on mine.

Time slows as the space between us disappears. Her lips brush mine, soft and tentative at first, like she’s testing the waters. I freeze for half a second, stunned, before leaning in, deepening the kiss.

Her hand finds my jaw, her touch warm and steady, and I feel the weight of every second I’ve spent waiting for this moment. Her lips are warm, tasting faintly of wine and something uniquely her.

When she finally pulls back, her cheeks are flushed, and she looks at me like she’s as surprised as I am.

“I—uh—” she starts, but I cut her off with a soft smile.

“Don’t overthink it,” I say, my voice low. “Unless you regret it.”

She shakes her head quickly, her lips curving into a shy smile. “No regrets.”

“Good,” I murmur, leaning back against the truck, my chest still buzzing from the kiss. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

She looks at me for a long moment before settling beside me again, her head resting lightly on my shoulder. The stars overhead blur a little as I focus on the feel of her beside me, her warmth seeping into the cold night air.

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