“Don’t get used to it. I can’t always be around to protect you,” I said, but I couldn’t resist a small smile in return.
His eyes crinkled deeper at the corners. “Noted.”
A long, languorous beat passed between us.
Every time I thought I knew where I stood when it came to him, something happened that threw me off-kilter.
There was no steady ground with Asher Donovan. It was a constant sea of change-frustrating, terrifying, and, as much as I hated to admit it, exhilarating.
All the banked heat we shouldn’t acknowledge thrummed across the tiny high-top table. We?-
“Sorry that took so long.” Carina’s breathless apology doused the moment in ice water.
Sorry, my ass. She’d left us alone on purpose, and her grin indicated as much. “The queue took forever.” She slid onto her stool and regarded us with naked interest. “What did I miss?”
“Not much,” I said when Asher remained quiet. His run-in with the man wasn’t my story to tell. “We were just chatting about football.”
“Oh, okay.” Carina seemed oblivious to the tension smoldering around us. “Before I forget, I want to tell you I can’t make it Tuesday. I got a call from my parents while I was in the queue. They made us dinner reservations at Babko that night, so I won’t be able to watch your first rehearsal. I’m so sorry.” Genuine remorse crossed her face. “I really wanted to be there for the first one.”
“It’s okay,” I reassured her. “You won’t be missing much.”
Asher’s brow wrinkled. “What rehearsal?”
Carina flicked a quick glance at me.
Shit.
I hadn’t told him about the showcase yet. It wasn’t a secret, and he wasn’t entitled to know, but a stab of guilt pierced my chest anyway.
“I changed my mind about not participating in the RAB showcase,” I admitted. “I spoke with Lavinia, and I’m now the understudy for the lead role in
Lorena.”
“The lead role?” His eyes sparked with admiration, and an answering warmth drifted through my veins. “That’s brilliant!”
“It’s not a big deal. Like I said, I’m the understudy.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, feeling oddly self-conscious. “Chances are, I won’t get to perform. I’m just there in case the lead gets sick or injured.”
“It’s still exciting. When did you find out?”
The guilt deepened. “Monday.”
Asher’s expression didn’t change, but the barest hint of a pause indicated his confusion.
“I was going to tell you earlier,” I added. “But I, um, forgot.”
I’d wanted to tell him during Monday’s training. But after seeing him with Polina and our subsequent moment in the studio, sharing such an important milestone with him first seemed too dangerous. Too intimate.
So I hadn’t.
Nevertheless, a pinprick of guilt pierced my skin at the hurt in his eyes. Not only had I not told him, but I probably wouldn’t have brought it up at all had Carina not mentioned rehearsals.
“That’s okay.” Asher smiled, the flash of hurt smoothing into one of indifference. The boulder sank deeper to my toes. “I’m just glad you’re participating.” He checked his watch. “I have to run. I have an online interview in an hour.” He stood and slid a fifty-pound note onto the table. “Next round’s on me. As a thank-you for letting me crash your girls’ night.”
“That’s way too much for drinks here,” Carina protested.
“Three rounds then,” Asher said easily. He glanced at me.
I remained quiet, trying to reason away my niggle of disappointment at his departure. I hadn’t wanted him to join us, so why was I upset about him leaving?
He hesitated, then added, “My friend’s throwing a party in Neon’s VIP lounge later tonight. If you guys are free, you should drop by.”
“We’re not big clubbers,” I said before Carina committed us to something neither of us wanted.
The last time we clubbed, I’d spent half the night holding her hair back while she puked up four shots worth of tequila. Afterward, it took us fifteen minutes to reach the exit because it’d been so packed.
Would I like to repeat that experience? No, thank you.
“Sadly, it’s true.” Carina sighed. “I wish we were fun club people.”
The tiniest hint of amusement tugged on Asher’s lips. “I’ll add your names to the list anyway in case you change your minds.” His gaze slid back to me with a brief, inscrutable flicker before he left.
The crowd parted without him uttering a word and closed just as easily once he was gone.
“Yeah, screw what Vincent thinks,” Carina said after Asher was out of earshot. “He’s so into you, and he checks all your criteria. Good-looking, single, employed, and not a prat? Hello, perfect match.”
“Those are your criteria, not mine, and let’s not forget his playboy reputation.”
“Oh, so you wouldn’t mind if I went after him?” Carina smirked at whatever she saw on my face. “Exactly. Your death glare just gave you away.”
“I did not give you a death glare, and he’s not into me. Not really,” I said. “Maybe he thinks he is because I’m the only woman he’s seeing on a regular basis this summer.”
I wasn’t trying to be self-deprecating; it was the truth. He was a famous footballer. What were the chances he was actually, truly interested in me?
Carina shook her head but didn’t press the issue. “Jokes aside, are you really going to skip the party tonight? I know we’re not club people, but it’s an
Asher Donovan invite. Can you imagine the VIPs who’ll be there?” She let out a dreamy sigh. “Sadly, my parents are staying with me, so I can’t go even if I wanted to. I don’t want to deal with their lectures about ‘drugs and debauchery.’”
Whenever her parents visited, they stayed with her for at least two weeks. I couldn’t imagine staying with my mother for that long as an adult-we’d kill each other by day three-but it was a cultural thing. Asian daughters simply did not banish their elders to a hotel when they had a perfectly serviceable flat.
“If you change your mind and you do go, you have to tell me every detail after,” Carina said. “I’m living vicariously through you at this point.”
I shook my head. “Sorry, but tonight’s a book-and-bed type of night,” I said. “Trust me. There’s no way I’m going to that party.”
SCARLETT
In my defense, I hadn’t planned on changing my mind.
After Carina and I left the Angry Boar, we parted ways-her to meet her parents for a West End show, me to my flat and my comforting Saturday night routine of tea, reading, and pajamas.
However, I couldn’t focus on Isabella Valencia’s latest thriller for the life of me. I usually loved her books, but I found myself zoning out every other paragraph.
Instead of following the sociopathic detective’s adventures in hunting down another sociopath, my concentration kept scattering into images of a trendy nightclub and green eyes.
After I reread the same line four times without comprehending a single word, I gave up and closed the book with a frustrated sigh.
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.