Page 88 of Siren's Game

I drum my hands against the sparkling fabric of my dress as Millie and I drive over to Asher’s and Luca's building. We haven't changed out of our clothes, and I fear we look ridiculous, cheeks flush with alcohol and our makeup already migrating all over our faces.

Both of us look like pandas after that emotional conversation. And both of us don't give a fuck. Even our driver seems more amused than weirded out.

Millie is tipsier than I am and grinning from ear to ear, knowing that she'll spend the night at Luca's place. And then there's me, a ball of nervousness, ready to bolt at the slightest spook.

"Come on." Millie takes my hand and pulls me out of her side of the car, giggling, as I have to awkwardly scoot over the middle seat and fight with my dress. Then she pulls me to the elevator, pushing the button without letting me go and holding onto my hand the whole ride up.

"I'm not going to bolt, you know?"

It’s only half a lie. Bolting sounds fucking tempting right about now.

"Suuure," she says, sarcasm dripping from her voice. Sometimes I forget how well she knows me.

Shaking my head, I let her pull me after her when the doors open until we come to a stop in front of Luca's door.

"Well, good luck," she tells me and turns to her boyfriend’s apartment, her hand raised to knock on the door.

"Don't try to spy on us through their shared wall," I tell her, making her burst into a giggle. I can just see it, both of them pressing their ears to the wall to hear what’s going on.

"I would never."

"You totally would, that's why I'm saying it." I wring my hands. Millie sighs and lowers her hand, putting it on my shoulder instead, and makes me walk over to the next door. Then she knocks on it and runs back to Luca's apartment.

"You little—" I shout after her, but the curse I'm only now trying to think of gets stuck in my throat when Asher opens his door.

I gulp. He looks rough. His dress shirt is unbuttoned down to his navel, only half of his hair in his usual bun and eyes red-rimmed, cheeks flush with alcohol. His eyes drill into mine with an intensity I can't handle without tearing up.

"Kayla?" His eyes grow wide in surprise, like he can’t quite believe I’m actually there.

I clear my throat before speaking, wringing my hands and evading his gaze by looking down at my feet. "Hi. Can I come in?"

He steps aside wordlessly and opens the door a bit more so I can come inside. I trudge past him, swallowing down the emotion building in my throat when I catch a whiff of his scent.

I know Millie said he feels something for me. Well, she didn’t say it per se, but she heavily implied it. Whether I trust it is the next question.

Asher motions for me to take a seat on his couch and I sigh when I take off my shoes.

I've only put the high heels on for the short way here so I wouldn't look like a complete buffoon. Evening dress and sneakers is not quite the high fashion the poor designer of this dress deserves as publicity.

Asher’s living room is messy, like he’s been kicking his pillows around, and a half-empty bottle of tequila is propped on his coffee table.

Without a word, Asher sits down next to me and leans down to grab my ankle. Before I can protest, he pulls it to his lap and starts giving my foot a light massage.

"I'm sorry," I press out, my words making him look up and meet my eyes. "I shouldn't have run off like that. I was panicking."

"Yeah, you shouldn't have." He lets go of my foot, but I leave it where it is, right in his lap.

I’m not a touchy kind of girl, but the thought of not being connected to him in some way during this conversation is making me fucking anxious. "But let's start from the beginning, shall we?"

"It was a kneejerk reaction," I admit, wringing my hands and picking at my cuticles. "All that talk about my family, meeting yours, someone mentioning starting a family . . . it messed with my head real bad."

"Why?" His eyes meet mine and I lose all my thoughts. There are no excuses anymore, no way to run.

"Because I might . . . want that. With you. Maybe. Someday. And I’m not sure you want that. With me, I mean. That’s why I ran," I ramble, dropping my gaze and biting my lip, my fingers digging into the fabric of my dress, but he reaches for my chin and makes me look up at him.

I blink away the tears building in my eyes and take a deep breath, my eyes darting over his face. His eyebrows are scrunched together, his fingers on my chin pinching just a tad too hard for comfort.

"You do?"

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