“They’re cute pictures. I assume your father is a big Holchester fan?”
“Die hard,” he confirmed. “I grew up in Holchester, and he took me to every home match when I was a kid. Some away matches too. When I signed with them, he was over the moon. Even forgave me for my stint with Man U before that.”
“And Blackcastle? How does he feel about that?” I asked. Holchester fans didn’t like Man U, but Blackcastle was even worse. They were Holchester’s number-one rival.
“Less thrilled.” Asher’s tone verged on matter-of-fact, but the shuttering of his expression suggested there was more to the story.
I swallowed my curiosity. If he wanted to elaborate, he would.
Instead, I pivoted to another question that’d been nagging at me for a while. “Why did you transfer? You were doing so well at Holchester.”
“Two hundred fifty million pounds is a lot of money.”
“It is, but I don’t think that’s the only reason.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t strike me as someone who’d do something solely for a paycheck.” For all his flash and show, Asher possessed an honest, tangible reverence for the sport. It came through in his training, his interviews, his collection of mementos featuring other football greats, not just himself.
Players like that didn’t make huge decisions based on money alone. Besides, he’d already been mind-bogglingly rich before the transfer.
A small smile touched his face. “A DuBois saying something nice about my character? Someone check the temperature in hell.”
“I’m not my brother.” I’d been biased against Asher for reasons that had nothing to do with Vincent, but the more time we spent together, the harder it was to hold on to that initial animosity.
“No.” Asher’s gaze held mine for a fraction longer than was customary. “You’re definitely not.”
His words floated softly between us. My skin buzzed to life, and I was suddenly hyperaware of the fact that we’d been naked in the same house- his house-less than an hour ago. Me in my bath, him in his shower.
That shouldn’t feel so intimate. But it did.
Asher’s mouth parted. Anticipation ricocheted through my chest, but before he could speak, a boom of thunder rocked the house. The unmistakable sound of pouring rain followed, drawing my attention to the window at the end of the hall.
I’d been so caught up in this-whatever this was-that I hadn’t noticed the shift from beautiful summer afternoon to sudden downpour.
“Shit,” Asher said. Our earlier moment was gone, shattered by the distraction and our gradual return to our senses. At least, that applied to me; I had no idea what he was thinking. “We should get you home before the rain gets worse. I’ll call Earl and check on your laundry. It should be done.”
I’d forgotten I was only wearing a bathrobe.
My cheeks flamed. Nevertheless, I followed him to the laundry room, where my clothes were still spinning in the dryer.
“Four minutes left,” Asher reported. He appeared to be avoiding my eyes, though that might be my paranoia talking. “Not too long. We’ll have you out of here in no?-“
A shrill alert emanated from both our phones.
Interruptions seem to be the theme of the day.
First the pap, then the thunder, now this.
However, my annoyance soon morphed into alarm when I read the accompanying emergency text.
A flash flood warning is in effect for this area until 8:00 a.m. BST. This is a dangerous and life-threatening situation. Do not attempt to travel unless you are fleeing an area subject to flooding or under an evacuation order.
8:00 a.m. BST. That was tomorrow morning, which meant…
Asher and I lifted our heads and stared at each other in horror.
Which meant I was stuck here for the night.
ASHER
This was a nightmare.
The Met Office had warned of possible severe thunderstorms today, but the morning and afternoon had been so beautiful, I’d dismissed their concerns.
Now, all of a sudden, I was trapped with the one person I didn’t want-or shouldn’t want-to spend the night with.
I glanced at Scarlett, who’d finally changed out of her bathrobe and into her freshly dried clothes.
Thank God.
The robe had been distracting, to say the least, which was irritating because it’d been my bloody guest robe.
Note to self: Buy more full-coverage robes in case of similar future occurrences. Preferably full-length with a turtleneck and so many layers you can’t tell if it’s a human body or a concrete block under there.
Certainly nothing that revealed endless dancer’s legs or a shadow of cleavage. Nothing that exposed miles of smooth skin or tempted the imagination.
“Absolutely not. I refuse,” she said, crossing her arms. “Anything but that.”
My pulse leapt before I realized she was talking about my movie choice and not the traitorous thoughts she’d somehow divined from my face.
“It’s a movie. It’s not real.” I tossed out a teasing smile to mask the balloon of relief in my chest.
It’d been hours since we received the emergency weather alert, and the storm showed no signs of abating. For lack of anything better to do, we’d settled in the theatre with popcorn and an agreement to alternate movie choices.
Scarlett chose the first film, a heist comedy about sorority sisters who had to steal a rare diamond necklace after getting caught up with a Vegas mob boss. It wasn’t to my usual taste, but I hadn’t complained, and the movie had turned out to be pretty good.
It seemed a bit unfair, then, for her to renege on her part of the deal.
“It’s a horror movie,” she said. “I don’t watch horror.”
“Too scared?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. Horror movies give me nightmares, and unless you want me screaming the house down at three in the morning, I recommend we switch to literally any other genre.”
“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad. This isn’t even the original Japanese version.”
Japanese versions were always ten times scarier than their American counterparts. It was a universal fact.
“I couldn’t even handle
Scream, and that was satire.” Scarlett grimaced. “No, thank you. Pick another movie, please.”
“That’s not part of our deal.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.