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Payton

 

The way he stares at me sends a shockwave of desire deep down to my core. But, I don’t want a boyfriend. I don’t think Asher is the type of guy who even does girlfriends.

Plus, he works for my father, plain and simple. And, I am not going to be here long enough to even have time to get undressed. And is he actually interested in my life story?

“So, Miss ‘for now’, what do you plan on doing while you’re here?” he asks, a glint of something deep in his eyes. Hope? Desire? Probably neither.

“I don’t really know. I haven’t been here since I was a kid.”

“I can show you around one night, maybe.”

Is he asking me out? Like on a date? No, I don’t have time for dates. This has bad written all over it, but I’m intrigued. I find myself wanting to say yes.

“Um, it’s probably not a good idea.”

He appears dejected, but I’m sure he’s not. He has women surrounding him all the time. I know he does. I’ve seen it first hand.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asks, leaning in close to my ear.

“No.” I fidget. I’m afraid of a lot of things, but I’m not afraid of him. Maybe afraid of what I want to do to him. But, he doesn’t need to know that.

I put on a brave face, grab my plate of kabobs, and take a bite into a piece of chicken. I glance over and see Asher’s eyes watching me. He groans when I lick my lips.

“Let’s just watch the movie,” he says, turning the channel to a comedy.

At the end of the movie, I smile as Asher turns the television off. Somewhere throughout, our legs intertwined and his hand rests on my thigh. Not sure if I should move it, so I remain perfectly still while we sit quietly in the dark.

“Did you like the movie?” I ask, not really sure what else to say.

He looks over at me. “Yeah. I’d like to take you to a real movie, though. As friends, of course.”

“Oh, maybe,” I say, watching the way his eyes twinkle at my answer. His eyes are really something else. Light green, with specks of gold around the pupil. They hold you captive when he gazes at you.

“I’ll take that as a yes. And, your father won’t find out. I won’t let him.”

“Just friends,” I say, mainly to reassure myself.

“Just friends.”

I breathe a sigh of relief and lean back against the couch as his hand grips my thigh. His thumb traces circles on my heated skin. It feels good, and I don’t want him to stop.

“I like when you laugh. You did it the other day at work. It’s cute,” he says out of nowhere.

“Excuse me?” I ask.

“Your laugh.” He lunges over and both hands attack my ribcage. He tickles my sides, and my laughter fills his living room. I try to breathe, but it’s no use.

I can’t take it anymore, and I kick him square in the shoulder. “Stop,” I squeal, breathless.

He stops. “See, it’s that laugh. It’s cute.” He reaches up and tugs on my bottom lip.

The air sizzles, and I am once again feeling things I shouldn’t be feeling toward this man. An electrical current travels from his lips to mine, making me want to kiss him. But that’s crazy. I can’t kiss him.

No. I mean, I won’t.

He leans in, and my eyes fall shut. My heart beats double time as his hand reaches into my hair, tugging at the loose strands in the back. Oh, please kiss me. I want him to do it.

His lips land on mine, and I open my mouth for him. That’s all the motivation he needs, before he takes over. Kissing me deeply, his tongue explores my mouth. My body explodes with excitement as he clings tighter to me.

One hand traces my thigh, inching higher and higher up my leg. The other is entangled and twirling around each strand of my long hair. My panties dampen, and he groans long and hard into my mouth. This sexual vibe he emits day after day does things to me. Makes me want to explore new possibilities.

But, I break the kiss, leaning back to open my eyes and catch his lust-filled gaze. He removes his hands from me.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “You taste so damn good.”

“So do you.” I shouldn't be doing this. “I should get going.” I bound off the couch, making my way into the kitchen to grab my purse and keys.

“Wait,” he calls, rushing after me. “I don’t want this to get weird. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

With all of my resolve, I plaster on a fake smile. “It’s fine. Really. Friends.”

After saying goodbye, I rush to my car and haul ass home. I need to think.

 

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A few days later as I’m leaving work, Asher invites me to explore the town. Neither of us have mentioned the kiss, and it’s beginning to feel as if it never happened. But, I liked it. I kind of want it to happen again. Especially, after watching him under the hood of that car today. It was so sexy the way his muscles flexed when he was tightening or loosening something. The way his hands got dirtier the longer he worked. I couldn’t look away.

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I smile. “Sure, I’d love to hang out,” I say.

“Great. Let me just wash up.” He heads off in the direction of the bathrooms, and I smile at the other guys.

“No cupcakes today?” Hank asks.

“Sorry. I’ll make some tonight.” Once in a while, I bring in cupcakes or other treats. But, these guys are like fiends. They want them every day, and I feel like I’ve turned into Betty Crocker.

I stand and wait for Asher, and my father swings by. “What are you still doing here?”

Oops. “I’m just leaving.” I don’t want my father to know about Asher and I hanging out. I’m not really sure how he’d feel. Ok, not true. He’d be upset.

I head to my car, hop inside and pull out my phone and send a text to Asher.

Me: Meet me down the street at the gas station.

He agrees and I turn my car on and head out.

A few minutes later, Asher pulls up in his black Chevy truck. I hop into the passenger side, and he sets off into town.

“Anything you want to see?” he asks.

“I know the lighthouses are nice. We could stop by one.”

“Ok.” He flips the music on, and I sink back into the upholstery of the seat, gazing out the window.

I spot a little antique shop. “Oh can we stop in?” I ask.

“Uh, sure.” He swings the truck into a parking space, and we both get out.

I’m excited. I used to go antique shopping with my grandmother. We step inside the store, and I look around. The old tables and hutches grab my attention, and I move toward them.

Asher slides his hands in his pockets as he follows after me.

“Fascinating, right?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Meh.”

“Look at the carvings in this one.” I run my hand over a cherry-oak hutch. Asher isn’t impressed and I nudge his side with my shoulder. “Isn’t it nice?”

He grabs the price tag. “Not for eighteen hundred dollars.”

“Well, it’s an antique.” His eyes meet mine, and they hold a hint of laughter in them.

“Antique. Isn’t that another word for really really old?”

“Yes. But I bet you like antique cars, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but that’s different.”

“Not really.” I cross my arms over my chest and smile. “It’s very much the same.”

He turns around, gazing at the rest of the store before his eyes land back on me. “If you say so.”

“I do. Come on, let’s keep looking. It’s exciting seeing pieces from another era.”

“See there aren’t any cars in here from that long ago. That would be exciting.”

I drag him along, glancing at each piece in the store as Asher rolls his eyes. The store makes me miss my grandmother, but I relish in the memories of her as I remember back to shopping with her so many times.

When we leave the store, I hop back into the passenger side of Asher’s truck. My mood has depressed a little and I try to find a happy song on the radio.

“You’re lucky I like you,” he says, stopping at a red light.

“Why’s that?”

“I normally don’t let anyone touch my radio.”

I remove my finger from the dial. “Oh.”

“Go ahead. I like you enough to give you control of the radio.”

I smile. “Thanks.”

He pulls into a small restaurant, and inside we’re assaulted by a group of pretty, blonde girls talking to a waitress at the front. All three call Asher’s name as we try to grab a seat.

“Asher, it’s been so long. We didn’t see you out the other night with Brett,” one blonde says.

“Yeah, I was busy.” He rubs his hand down his face.

“Who’s your friend?” another asks.

“Tish, Val, Kel, this is Payton.” He sidesteps the girls and leads me over to a table by the window.

After we’ve been seated, I glance back at the girls who are sitting at the bar. “Who are they?” I ask.

“Just some girls I used to know.”

He used to know. As in no longer. I have so many more questions, but remember this is just a friendship and it isn’t my place to ask. Although, I’m glad he used to know them and doesn’t anymore.