Page 129 of Forever To Me

She takes a slow step outside, eyes still locked on me. Then another. And another until she stands right in front of me, close enough that I can smell the vanilla and coconut in her shampoo.

I set my guitar down, suddenly feeling exposed in a way Ihaven’t in years, even when I showed Violet the cabin. Singing and playing for an audience is a piece of my soul I never thought I’d share with anyone ever again.

“You sound…” She shakes her head, almost disbelieving. “Holy shit, Walker.”

I grunt, crossing my arms. “It’s just a song.”

She lets out a breathless laugh. “It’s not just a song.”

I narrow my eyes. “If you start fangirling, I’m out.”

She grins. “Oh, I’m definitely fangirling.”

The way she looks at me right now makes my heart hitch, skip a damn beat, do funny shit. I shake my head, leaning back against the couch. “Violet. What am I gonna do with that mouth?”

“Fuck it,” she says, dropping onto the armrest beside me.

I love her smartass mouth. And the images that flood my brain are all I can think about. I try to push them aside, but they’re there now, thanks to her. I chuckle. “I mean it.”

She grins so widely it should be illegal. “You, sir, have been holding out on me. Now I want all the private performances that I can get.”

She grins at me as if she’s not just talking about music. Fuck. Me.

I groan and tease. “I knew this was a mistake.”

She smirks. “A very sexy mistake.”

I tilt my head, unamused.

She hums, mock-serious. “I feel betrayed, honestly.”

I groan again.

She pokes my knee. “You sound like sin wrapped in whiskey.”

I rub my face. “You are so damn dramatic.”

She shrugs. “Sorry, I just—” She shakes her head, looking at me with something new in her eyes. “I can’t believe I live with you, and you’ve been hiding this.”

I exhale through my nose. “I wasn’t hiding it.”

She raises an eyebrow.

I sigh. “Okay, fine, I was hiding it.”

Her grin gets wider. “So, you admit it?”

I narrow my eyes. “I am this close to throwing you into the lake.”

She ignores me, grabbing my guitar off the couch. “Play me another one.”

I blink. “Absolutely not.”

“Come on, Asher.” She wiggles the guitar at me. “One more song.”

And fuck me, if I don't love her saying my name. No one ever calls me that. But hearing it come from her...it just does things to me.

She doesn’t back down. And before I know it? I’m strumming. And she’s watching me.

---