Page 178 of Chasing Sparks

It doesn’t matter what slick lines Ash uses when we’re alone. What counts is how he treats me when I’m standing in the bright sunlight, visible to all.

Tears spill down my cheeks, but I duck my head and swipe them away.

I hate crying with an audience. Even worse is crying in front of people who likely think I’m a moron for attempting a romance with Asher Hammond, particularly when his first love is now back in the picture.

That’s enough. I can’t hang out here pretending this is okay—or that I am.

I want to go home and crawl into bed, but I know Ash will fight me on it. At least I can escape this room—the air suffocates me.

“I’m going to lie down.” Pivoting, I glance at Ash. “Where can I crash?”

“We’ll go to my room.”

Oh, sofuckingme isn’t a secret—just the outcome of that act.

Lovely.

Seems my anger is worsening by the second.

“That’s a terrible idea. I need to rest, and you’re a distraction. Plus, it’s your birthday, and your friends are here to celebrate. So, drink up and be merry.”

Boy, I’m laying it on thick.

“I enjoy being a distraction,” Ash says with a grin. “And I want to celebrate my birthday withyou. Rewriting those fairytales, remember?”

Usually, his charm would work. I’m a sucker for the man, and my hormones are firing on all cylinders.

But knowing that the baby and I are secrets Ash wants to keep hidden swiftly overrides any carnal desires.

Besides, I feel Lucille boring holes into us as we talk, undoubtedly curious about the tension between us.

Lucille and I might be cordial, but we’re far from friends. And although they both claim there’s nothing between them anymore, I have a hard time believing it.

Hell, if that were true, why is she living here?

See all the things you’re willing to overlook in the name of love?

Love is a stupid, no-good, very bad idea.

And I’m over it because, no matter what Ash says, Lucille is the one woman he gave everything to.

Me? I’m breadfruit, at your service.

I still don’t know what the damn fruit looks like, but if I ever find one, I’m taking a sledgehammer to the thing. Just for kicks.

“I’ll take the back room where Merlin is sleeping. No one’s staying there, right?”

Ash shakes his head, clearly aware the conversation has gone silent as his friends watch our exchange. “You can sleep back there, if that’s what you want.”

“Thanks. Goodnight, everyone.”

“I’ll be in soon.”

“No need,” I reply with a dismissive shrug. “You have fun, Ash. Happy birthday.”

I’m freezing my ass off back here.

Even though the temperatures during the day hit near sixty, it still dips close to freezing at night, and Ash’s farmhouse, though gorgeous, is drafty as hell.

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