Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 107077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Of course not. Why would he bother?
The one man who should have championed me has been a complete no-show in my life. Why would a guy like Asher Stevens stick around?
The idea is almost laughable.
And it’s more than enough to quash the sliver of hope that this was anything more than sex.
Great sex, even.
But still…just two bodies coming together for mutual pleasure.
That thought has me turning away before carefully rolling from the bed. As good as last night was, I need to get the hell out of here before he wakes up and we’re forced to engage in an awkward morning-after convo. I’m sure it happens with such frequency that he has a whole scripted spiel he gives the girls who spend the night.
That thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
When he stirs again, I throw a cautious glance over my shoulder and pick up my scattered pieces of clothing before hauling up my underwear and slipping on my bra. Then, I pull on my sweater, yank up my jeans and grab my shoes, jacket, and purse before tiptoeing across the carpet like the place is boobytrapped with explosives.
The hinges creak as I open the door just enough to slip through. If there’s a strange mix of emotions bubbling up inside me, I tamp them down and pretend they don’t exist. Last night was fun. I’d needed to lose myself in another person and get my mind off the shitshow that is my life, and that’s exactly what Asher provided.
Extremely well.
Well enough that I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep for a solid eight hours.
When was the last time that happened?
I don’t even remember.
Once in the hallway, my muscles loosen. I pause, shoving my feet into my Chucks and walking into the dining room, which is a mess of bottles and pizza boxes. It smells like a brewery in here.
I stride past the living room, where someone is sacked out on the couch, snoring lightly, before arriving at the entryway of the two-story house. Just as escape is within reach, a loud creak from the staircase breaks the silence and draws my attention. I swing around, only to find Demi making her way down the carpeted stairs. As our gazes collide, her footfalls falter as surprise morphs over her expression. Her appearance is just as disheveled as I imagine mine to be.
She pops a brow as the corners of her lips tremble. “I’m not sure if we’re having an awkward moment or not.”
With a snort, my shoulders loosen. “Definitely awkward.”
For me, not her. She has a boyfriend who lives here, I don’t. It doesn’t take long for her to figure out who I spent the night with. I can almost see the moment it dawns on her.
“So…you and Asher, huh?”
I shake my head. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Really? That’s funny, because now that I’m thinking about it, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen you two together.”
“He needed help with a class. And now,” I shrug, trying to find a way to define our strange relationship, “I guess we’ve become friends. Sort of.”
She cocks her head as interest grows in her eyes. “Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?”
I grab the handle of the door before yanking it open, only wanting to escape this uncomfortable conversation. “It’s super casual.”
“If you say so,” she sing-songs obnoxiously, walking down the remaining stairs until we’re standing side by side.
“I do. Plus, this is Asher Stevens we’re talking about. Is he the type of guy to get serious with anyone?”
“Not that I know of.”
A ridiculous amount of disappointment floods through me when I realize she isn’t going to argue the point.
Trailing me outside to the front porch, she glances up and down the empty street. It’s still early and everything is quiet as the sun rises in the eastern sky, painting it with pink and purple hues.
“Where’s your car?” She glances at me with curiosity. “Do you need a lift?”
Yeah…I guess I do. I was so intent on escaping the situation and getting some much-needed physical—as well as mental—distance, that I didn’t consider how I’d get home.
“If you don’t mind driving me, that would be great.”
Demi slings an arm around my shoulder. “Girl, I don’t mind at all. It’ll give me more time to interrogate you about your relationship with Mr. tall, blond, and studly.”
I groan. “On second thought, maybe I’ll just Uber it.”
22
ASHER
I load two burgers and a large fries onto my tray before grabbing an orange Gatorade from the cooler and glancing around the wide-open space. A few girls wave as I catch their gazes. I give them a chin lift in greeting before finding Crosby, Carson, Easton, and Brayden camped out at a table along with a couple of other guys from the team. Sydney, Sasha, and Elle are seated next to their respective boyfriends. A few groupies buzz around the table, looking for vacant laps to settle on.