Page 67 of Off Limits

“I missed them too.” I paused, feeling awkward all of a sudden. “But I might need a few more trial runs before I’m ready to do that solo.”

He smirked. “That’s probably a good idea. Hopefully you can recover before your show.”

“Show?”

“It’s Saturday,” he reminded me.

“Oh, right.” I pulled my ball cap off and raked my hand through my hair, pushing the curls back, then slipped it back on. “I’m not going online tonight.”

“You’re not?” he asked in that carefully neutral voice that used to drive me nuts but I now realized was a coping mechanism from years of having to deal with his emotionally volatile mother.

I shook my head.

He studied me for a few beats. “Do you have somewhere else you need to be?”

“Not tonight.” I licked my suddenly dry lips.

Asa’s eyes tracked the move, and a flutter of nerves exploded in my stomach.

“Do you want to stick around for a bit?” He dropped his gaze to the floor. “Maybe hang out or whatever?”

“Yeah, sure.”

He looked up at me in surprise, but it was gone a moment later. “Let’s go to the bonus room. It’s pretty much the only part of the house that’s even remotely comfortable.”

“Isn’t that the truth.” I fell into step with him as we headed to the back of the house. “Was your mom like this before?”

“Like what?” He tossed me a confused look.

“Obsessed with decor and making the house look like a mausoleum.”

He let out a little chuckle. “No. That’s a new thing. We used to live in an apartment.”

“Really?” How had I not known Asa had grown up in an apartment?

He nodded as we cut through the kitchen. “My dad didn’t make a lot of money back then. Definitely not enough to redecorate every other year and follow whatever trends the nouveau riche celebs she’s obsessed with are doing.” He sat on the chaise part of the couch in the back of the bonus room and put his feet up. “Was your dad always like this?”

“Like what? Into redecorating?” I sat on the other side of the couch.

“That too, but I meant completely whipped and willing to let your mom do whatever the hell she wants.”

Now it was my turn to chuckle. “Not at all. My mom is very different from yours.”

“How so?”

“She’s a trad wife.”

“Really?” He looked surprised.

I nodded. “She really buys into that whole ‘the man is the head of the household’ thing and was perfectly happy to let Dad do whatever he wanted as long as she got to stay home and doher thing.” I shot him a wry grin. “Bet she didn’t think histhingwould be your mom.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Probably not.”

“Were your parents happy? Before the affair?” I asked quietly.

He shook his head. “I don’t think they were ever happy.”

I waited to see if he’d say more, not wanting to push in case it made him shut down.

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