Page 14 of Never Bed the Boss
Or maybe it’s just Asher.
Day7
Sorry, it’s taken me so long to write. A lot has happened. No, Asher still hasn’t touched me. There hasn’t been so much as a brush of his knuckles or a guiding hand on the small of my back as we enter a room.
Nada. Nothing. Zilch.
But today marks one week. I’ve worked with Asher for one week and we’ve successfully kept everything professional. And I’m beginning to think that he really likes me. Everything was moving so fast from the moment we met that I was questioning whether his feelings for me were real or manufactured to get me into my pants… continuously.
But with my pants securely attached to my body, I still feel his desire for me. It’s hard not to when I catch him many times aday staring at me from across his office. He’ll be taking a phone call or perusing a contract and then I’ll feel that warm, tingling sensation on my skin.
No, I still haven’t gotten it checked out, but I know the cause because it crops up each time Asher looks at me. And I don’t want to fix the issue.
But it’s given me some time to consider my feelings. It’s strange. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. Although all the terrible love poetry, angst-filled entries, and pages of pining in my other diaries might disagree.
It’s true though. For the first time in my life, I’ve met a man who makes me feel wanted and desired. A man who listens to me not as a perfunctory box to check on the way to the bedroom, but because he’s interested. I feel heard and seen. I feel…
I feel lucky to have stumbled into the Ridgeway Hotel. The heavy veil that guided me there and has shrouded me for years finally feels like it’s being lifted when I’m around him. The future finally seems bright, and for the first time, I think I might start checking off items on my bucket list. If only I could find it.
It’s long gone by now. I’m sad that I lost it, but I can start fresh with everything. A clean slate. I have the list memorized by heart so it won’t be hard. I already have a few items to check off thanks to Asher. And based on our travel schedule, there will be even more!
So yes, I’ve decided to stick with being Asher’s assistant. I like this job and I’m hoping that doesn’t change once this month is over.
I’m not sure what’s going to happen when the restriction is finally lifted, but I can’t think about it. I need to sleep because tomorrow we’re leaving for Cherry Ridge!
Asher wants my thoughts on the location of the TV series they’re developing. Apparently, I might even see the northern lights and a solar eclipse while we’re there!
I need to get going on the bucket list so I can get busy checking them off!
Until next time.
Day8
This is bad. We made it to Cherry Ridge. Don’t get me wrong, this is a lovely town and I can’t wait to explore it, but that’s not the reason for this entry. The town isn’t the issue. It’s the sleeping accommodations while we're here.
There’s only one bed and there are no other rooms. Who’d have thought we’d have chosen the week of some big woodworking convention? I’ve never seen so many flannel shirts and beards in one place before.
I know, I know. What’s the big deal? I’ve already slept with Asher. He’svery wellacquainted with my body. And I’d like to be a little more acquainted with his, but that’s—crap.Got to go, Diary. He’s on his way back. I thought I’d have a little more but it will have to wait.
Update:Wow. Oooookay.
I hope my writing is legible because I’m scrawling in pitch darkness sometime after midnight.
Asher is a mere foot or so away from me. Yes, we’re sharing the bed. And yes, I can’t sleep at all with him so close, breathing the same air, and feeling his body heat radiate underneath the sheets. Everything inside of me is screaming to roll over and end this madness.
I know. I brought this on myself. And he’s in this bedbecauseof me. Asher wanted to sleep on the ground, but I refused. We’re adults. We can behave. But Diary… I don’t want to. And I can’t believe heisbehaving.
But, all that aside, that’s not why I’m writing this in the dead of night. I made a discovery.
Asher talks in his sleep. But more than that, he talks aboutmein his sleep. He’s been moaning my name on and off for the last hour or so. I’m not sure though because I’ve lost track of time trying to decipher some of his more cryptic phrases.
Oh god. Desk. Panties. Off. Mine. There’s nothing cryptic about what he’s dreaming about now.
Triceratops.
Okay, maybe I shouldn’t read into his ramblings too much, but at least now I know he’s not breezing easily through the thirty-day challenge as he lets on.
But now it really is time to sleep. Tomorrow is a big day and I’ll need all the rest I can get.
