Page 12 of Don't Go Faking My Heart

"Ash …" I say quietly.

She gives a tiny shake of her head, but the effect on her hair is like throwing a pebble in the middle of a pond and seeing the ripples grow bigger. The movement may be small, but her curls spread out en masse. "If you like what I've done, then when the investor comes in two weeks, you’ll have enough information to make an informed decision. By then, my results will speak for themselves. You'll know I can do this. We can do this."

"We already voted. It's no use—" Teddy protests, but most everyone else in the "no" camp switches quickly.

"Yes."

"Two weeks of free marketing? I'll take it."

"Count me in."

Bill expresses his outrage, but there's nothing to be done. The votes flip to temporary yeses, and Teddy's already frozen face looks like it's fixin' to shatter. "All right, then. It looks like you have two weeks to convince us that your … ideas have merit." He manages to make "ideas" sound pejorative.

He pounds the gavel he bought himself, and the meeting moves on to the next item on the list. Lou and Parker cast looks at each other and then Ash like they're as worried about her as I am.

A two-week social media blitz is no small thing, especially not across dozens of accounts. Most of them don't even have consistent branding, let alone an online presence. She's going to spend every waking (and sleeping) moment on this.

Ash already leans toward burnout. She hyperfocuses to the point of exhilaration and then, shortly after, exhaustion.

I’m already worried about her.

With the meeting continuing, we take seats at the back of the room, and the buzz of energy that has sustained Ash all night wears off.

"I can't lose this," she whispers. She leans her head against my shoulder, but it's for support, not affection. It's the way she'd treat one of her brothers, not the way I want her to treat me. "We were so compelling! Everything makes sense! And they didn't even care." Her voice is smaller than her whisper. "Was it because of me?"

I bump her gently off my shoulder so she's forced to look at me. "Not even close. It had nothing to do with you or our presentation. People are tired, and the promise of fast money is alluring to anyone. You were perfect."

"I was scattered and weird."

"You were smart, funny, and perfect," I insist.

Her lips tug downward, but to the side, too, like she wants to believe me but can't. "Why are you so good to me?"

Because I love you. Because you're the person I want to be good for.

Now would be the perfect time to hug her and kiss her forehead, to cross that boundary between friend and would-be-boyfriend.

But knowing me, I'd probably give her a wet willie, instead.

I never cared to date much before Ash, but I'm a decent looking guy. I've usually got a bit of game.

With her, I have none. No offense, no defense, because I won't even let myself get on the field. She's playing tennis while I'm playing baseball. I can't entertain playing the same game as her, because once that idea takes root in my head, it will never leave. And that's why I do things like call her pal or give her a noogie the second I get her in my arms. I never even noogied my own sister before she passed. Why would I do it to the girl I want to be with?

Because I'm a mess. My feelings for her are a boundless coil of emotion I cannot let unravel. I want to be the best version of myself for her, but it's impossible to ignore that any version of myself could ever deserve her.

So as she crashes and falls asleep on my shoulder, all I can do is watch her instead of the next presentation. I listen to her quiet exhale instead of the speakers. I feel the stir of breath against my neck instead of the whir of the air conditioning when it finally kicks on.

And I pine. For every second of the next hour, I pine.

CHAPTER FOUR

ASH

Irouse to someone tickling my cheek.

"Wake up, sleepy bones," Rusty drawls.

I blink several times as I try to get my bearings. We're still in the town hall meeting room, and people are starting to stand. There's a dull hum of noise as people talk to each other. I lift my head from Rusty's shoulder. I have a crick in my neck and a spot of drool coming out of the corner of my mouth.

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