Page 34 of From Asher, With Love

I grind my jaw, her words adding salt to a wound I didn’t even know was open.

“You know what?” She turns her head, eyeing the door for the stairwell in the corner of the lobby. “I knew this was a bad idea. We can’t work like this. I’ll just work with what Cyrus sent me.”

Maybe she’s right. A past like ours isn’t easy to forget.

She tosses her own coffee in the same trash bin before turning on her heel and briskly marching toward the stairs. Iwatch her leave, her ass shaking side to side against her tight skirt.

“Dammit.” I run my palm down the side of my face, then jog to catch up to her before she makes it to the door. I grab her hand, pulling her to a stop.

There she is again. Drawing me in like a moth to a fucking flame.

“Wait.”

She turns around. There’s a sadness to her eyes, and I know it’s from me. I just don’t know if it’s from the Asher I am now or the old one who broke her heart at eighteen.

“I’m sorry.”

Charleigh laughs, ripping her hand from mine and crossing her arms. “Yeah, right, Asher. You’ve never been one to apologize.” Avoiding my stare, she impatiently looks up at the elevator, clearly frustrated. She stamps her heel.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, too stunned to focus on the slow ass elevator. Her words have, once again, burrowed their way under my skin, burning me from the inside out.

She closes her eyes and lets out a sigh, rolling her head in my direction. When she opens them again, there’s still a hint of sadness, but they’ve brightened slightly. “It doesn’t mean anything. It’s been a rough morning. Let’s forget it.”

“Forget the comment, or forget working with me?” I ask cautiously.

Her eyes tighten as if she’s trying to make up her mind on whether to trust me or not. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.” Done waiting for the snail-paced elevator, she turns on her heel, searching each corner of my office floor before she finally finds what she’s looking for. I follow her gaze, and before I have a chance to stop her, she’s already made it to stairwell door, pushing her entire weight into it.

She disappears down the stairwell while I stay in the doorway,holding my arm out to keep it open. “Are you crazy, Charleigh? You’re really going to take the stairs instead of the elevator?”

She’s already made it down the first flight before she pauses long enough on the landing to look up at me. “First of all, I’m not crazy.” Then she grins.Fuck.“Second, you’ve never taken the time to use the stairs?”

“No,” I tell her, rolling my eyes. I give in and follow her. “Not when my office is on the fifty-second floor. You may feel differently about using the stairs if you worked here every day.”

“I don’t know about that.” She waits for me to catch up to her.

Our cadences match one another as our feet hit each step. I glance down, confused as to how she’s able to walk down this many stairs in the heels she’s wearing.

“How long have you been in New York?” she asks, trepidation in her voice. Talking about the time between when I left her and right now is like walking on eggshells.

“Since the beginning of the year.”

“Oh,” she mutters. “So, not long.”

“Nope.” I let out a heavy sigh. “It took a lot for me to agree to finally move part of my firm out here from Los Angeles.”

“Do you plan on staying?”

Her question causes me to hesitate to take the next step. I nearly trip on the edge of the metal stair but quickly right myself before Charleigh notices.

She appears unfazed by her question, as if there is no ill intent or resentment laced in her words. But I can’t ignore the sting to my chest.

“I planned on it,” I tell her. “But I haven’t completely decided. I still have business back over there and my office out in Los Angeles. I’ve considered switching my primary office to NewYork, though.”

“Huh.” She twists her mouth in thought, and despite us walking down the stairs, I don’t pay attention to where I’m walking. From the corner of my eye, I study her face. I take note of every line and every curve. The way her bottom lip shines in the yellow lights of the stairwell to the sharp arch of her eyebrow framing her bright eye.

The corner of her mouth tilts into a playful smile when she quickly glances over at me before beginning the next set of stairs.

“I bet you’ll miss the L.A. weather.”

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