Page 64 of Forbidden Hearts
She heads to the front, leaving me alone with Asher.
“Hey,” he says quietly, giving me a smile.
“Hey.”
“Is your ankle doing okay?” Asher asks with concern.
“Yeah, it’s actually totally fine. Don’t worry, I won’t need to miss work.”
He looks down at his feet. “I’m glad it’s better. Liv comes home tomorrow, and I know she’d be devastated if she didn’t get to see you.”
And what about him? Would he be sad or relieved?
Get it together, Phoebe. He would feel nothing because you are nothing. So what if he gave you an orgasm? You do that all on your own.
Sure, they aren’t as good as the one I had two nights ago, but that’s not the point.
“Yeah, she sent me a text this morning with a photo of the fish she caught.”
Asher lets out a deep, throaty chuckle. “Hopefully, she didn’t send Sara the photos of her on the dirt bike.”
God, she’d come home to kill Asher and Rowan. “That’s definitely not authorized in the binder.”
He grins. “No, it’s not.”
Asher looks at the basket and then my hands. “Cereal?”
I’d forgotten I was holding a box of healthy grain cereal that I will never eat. My current mood is not for healthy options, it’s for high sugar and processed garbage that I’ll regret later. I slide that one back on the shelf. “Cereal is the breakfast of champions.”
“Liv loves it.”
“I know,” I say, reminding him that I do, in fact, know about his daughter’s likes. I also know that, every morning, he eats the same thing—three eggs, two slices of bacon, and one slice of toast. He calls it his three-two-one plan. “Are you switching your breakfast-food team?”
“Nah, I was just going to surprise Liv with one of her favorites.”
I go to grab the box at the same time Asher does. Our fingers touch for just the briefest of moments, but I feel the contact all the way down to my toes. I pull my hand back, and his eyes find mine.
The two of us are still and then he shifts back. “Sorry, go ahead.”
I could do that whole, no, you have it game, but I’m tired of games. I’m tired of wanting him, of wishing there weren’t so many reasons we can’t give in fully.
I take the box and smile. “Thanks. Have a great day.”
I turn to walk away, head high, feeling like we just had a semi-normal interaction that didn’t end with me looking like an asshole. Take that for a grand exit. Only, I don’t actually have that. No, instead, I trip on nothing in the middle of the aisle, and my arms and legs go flying as I fall straight into a display of cans.
The display, which Mr. Cooke probably spent six hours setting up, is completely destroyed, and the cans spread out like marbles on the linoleum floor. “Jesus! Are you okay?” Asher asks. I’m sprawled out on the floor, limbs outstretched, hair in my face, and pride left in aisle two.
“I’m fine.”
“Let me help you.” He gets low, extending his hand, and I steel myself for when we touch. Thankfully, I’m prepared for it, but when he pulls, it’s a bit too hard, and this time, we both go flying back, and I land on top of him.
“That didn’t go as planned.”
He smiles. “No, definitely not.”
“One day, I’ll stop embarrassing myself in front of you.”
“I truly hope you never stop.”
