Page 22 of Wrecked

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Chapter Ten

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Payton

Asher stays for afew hours and even though he wanted to stay the night, I sent him home. I’m not ready to have anyone in my bed overnight. Maybe that will change some day, but, right now, this is how it needs to be. He understood, letting me know I could take all the time I needed. He said he would never rush me.

I’ve been trying to sleep for over an hour now, but my mind is running. Asher makes me feel things, and it’s scary. Trying to wrap my head around everything he said, everything he made me feel, and everything he did...it’s overwhelming.

He said he wants us to get to know everything about each other. Knowing everything is scary. Much too scary. No one knows everything about someone. Everyone has secrets they don’t want to tell. Things they want to keep hidden. Some aren’t as bad as others, but there is no way to fully know a person.

Wondering what his secrets are, I finally feel myself falling asleep.

The next morning, I wake up to a text from Asher.

Asher: I want to take you out to dinner.

Hm. I’m tempted, but there’s too many reasons why that’s not a good idea.

Me: I’d rather cook for you at your place.

I kind of wish now I had more than the bare essentials.

Asher: But can you cook? That’s the question.

Me: You’d be surprised what I can do

Asher: Oh yeah?

Me: Yep. What do you like?

Asher: You.

I smile like a giddy fool at the phone. If that's not the perfect answer, I don't know what is. He definitely knows what to say, and a part of me, the insecure part, wonders if his secret is he does this all the time.

Me: I’ll surprise you. You're guaranteed to love it.

Asher: I don't doubt that at all.

And then he does something that nearly brings down all my defenses.

Asher: :)

His little smiley face puts a bigger one on mine. It's silly, really, but it seems so not something he would do. Ugh. Stop it. For all I know that's his signature. Obviously, I can't leave it unanswered, so I send one back and toss my phone down.

Doing the boring things of the day, I plan out what I’ll make for dinner. I’m actually a good cook, it’s just not something I enjoy doing that much anymore. Maybe, Asher will make me change my mind.

I decide to make stuffed shells and chicken Parmesan with garlic bread and a garden salad.

As I make my list for a quick trip to the store, my phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Hey. I want you to come home for dinner tonight. What do you say?” my dad asks, sounding much too excited.

Feeling terrible, I answer him honestly. “I can’t tonight. I have plans already. Another time?”

“You have plans? With who?” he questions, no longer excited. I’m not sure if he sounds more pissed or defeated.