❁ Asher ❁

Egor plans to pick me up in an hour. First, I dress in my clean clothes from last night and enjoy a bowl of Junie’s ground beef and black bean stew. Sitting in the blindingly colorful kitchen belonging to a woman I’m falling in love with; I wonder how can I exist in Junie’s world when our tastes are so drastically different.

“Tell me about Garrett,” she says, setting a cup of coffee at the table before joining me.

“What about him?”

“How long did you know him?”

“In our first year of high school, he and I shared a few classes. We were also in the computer club together.”

“Nerds,” she says, snickering.

Sharing her smile, I nod at the label. “Yes, but he was more of a slacker geek. A chubby long-haired kid, he got called Pizza Face more than nerd. I wasn’t much better off.”

“Did your face look like a pizza?”

“No, but I wasn’t white, Hispanic or Native American. I was too mixed to fit in anywhere. High school might have been better if I were a jock like my brother. He did okay, but I always felt like an outsider.”

“Except with Garrett.”

“We clicked in the right way at the right time. We made sense when a lot of stuff didn’t,” I say, rather startled by how sad my voice sounds.

“Did you love him?”

Cocking an eyebrow, I frown at her smiling face. “Yes, but not like you mean. He was the brother mine never was. I trusted him, so when he left, it wasn’t about him changing his address. He’d abandoned me and what we built.”

“He broke your heart.”

“Stop mocking me.”

“I’m not,” Junie says, running her foot up my calf. “I know how you feel about him. I feel the same way with Mallory. If she one day left me behind, my heart would break. Losing her would cripple me in the way losing my dad and Oona crippled my mom. Love can make you strong, but it’ll also cut you down at the knees.”

“Do you have space in your heart for anyone else if Mallory owns it?” I ask, wondering what it’s like to be Junie’s favorite person.

“No, so you should probably stop chasing me.”

Smiling, I wipe my mouth. “Maybe I ought to challenge her to a fight. The winner keeps you.”

“Mallory will probably win. She bites, and I don’t see you beating the crap out of a girl.”

“You never know.”

“About her biting or you beating up a girl?”

“For what I want, I can be ruthless,” I say, now startled by my hard tone.

“Yet you can also seem cowardly.”

Frowning, I set aside the napkin. “Harsh.”

“The truth usually is.”

“What are you willing to do to get what you want?”

“Put up with your shit,” she says and gives me a wink before laughing into her coffee mug.

“I’ve noticed that.”

“I’m fickle, but for you, I’ve made an exception.”

“And you need to keep doing so.”

“We’ll see. Your good looks will only take you so far.”

“I do worry now that we’ve fucked that you’ll lose interest. How much of your devotion is simply a worship of my looks?”

“Are you asking if Mistress Beaver has blinded me to your flaws and now that she’s satisfied sexually if I’ll dump your moody butt?”

“Yes, I’m asking exactly that, but I think I’d word it differently.”

“Well, of course, you would word it differently. You like to talk around things rather than blurting out the painful truth.”

Cocking an eyebrow, I study her. “You haven’t answered me on whether your interest in me is purely sexual in nature.”

“If it was only about sex, I’d have let you drown outside yesterday. No way am I working this hard to get laid.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“What’s the most work you’d put into getting laid?”

“I went roller skating and fell on my ass a dozen times.”

“Did it work?” she asks. “Was the girl wooed off her damn feet by your effort?”

“Most definitely. She’s my slave now and completely worth breaking my ass over.”

Junie stands, leans over, and kisses me quickly before returning to her seat and taking a bite of stew.

“What was your sex life like before me?”

Uncomfortable sharing with Junie, I have to force the words out and only succeed by focusing on the food rather than her stunning face. “About once a month I’d meet with a woman who understood there would be no small talk. I’m not interested in a girlfriend.”

“So she strips down and does the dirty and then leaves?”

“Basically.”

“Do you pay her?”

“She’s not a prostitute,” I mutter and visibly irritated by the insinuation.

“Does she prefer to be called an escort?”

“She’s a woman who lusts after me and is happy to have what I offer. If she expects more, she understands I will never provide it.”

Junie chuckles. “She sounds like me.”

“You expect more.”

“Now I do, but I’m probably fooling myself,” she says, losing her smile.

“Ask for what you want, and I’ll do my best to agree.”

Focusing hard on my face, she says, “I want to enter your penthouse and have you show me around. I don’t need to eat there or sleep there, but I want you to welcome me into your home like I’ve done with mine. Is that something you can agree to or will you end up meeting me at The Rosemary again?”

“I promise to let you into my home, but you can’t make snide comments about my decorating choices.”

“Can I have a panic attack about your decorating choices followed by you fucking me into feeling better?”

“Fucking wasn’t what calmed me down.”

“It didn’t hurt, though.”

“No, it didn’t.”

Smiling, she leans back in the chair. “If you blow me off when I come to your place, it’ll break my heart, and I won’t give you another chance. That’s not a threat. It’s just me admitting my limitations. I’m not a person built for drama, and if I can’t trust you, I can’t keep hoping.”

There’s no malice in Junie’s words. It’s simple really. If I can’t get my shit in order and find a way to let her into my life, we’re over.