Page 87 of So Much More

His words hit me hard, even though that’s not the way he meant them. “This apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?”

Ash closes his eyes. “Randall—”

“I know, I know.” I wave my fork in the air. “I’m nothing like him, and so on and so forth.”

“You’re not. I’ll tell you that every day if I need to.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

“I might do it anyway.”

I shrug. “Fine. Stroke my ego on a daily basis. See how well that works out for you.”

“You make an excellent point.”

We eat in silence for a few minutes.

“What do you think the women are up to?” I ask him.

“Something girly.”

“Painting their nails? Watching sappy movies? Talking about us? Having a pillow fight?”

Ash shoots me a wry grin. “I don’t think girls really have pillow fights.”

I snort. “How would you know?”

“Two of the people I’m closest to are teenage girls. I think I know more than you.”

“I could imagine Wendy having a pillow fight.”

“You just want to imagine her in pajamas.”

Now he gets a grin from me. “I don’t have to imagine that. I can remember it.” And I do. Often.

“Oh.” He blushes. “Yeah. What’s the latest with you and her?”

“She kissed me,” I say as nonchalantly as possible, as if I haven’t been replaying our kisses in my mind all day.

Ash’s fork halts on the way to his mouth. “What?”

“Before we left work to go pick up your car, she came into my office and asked me to kiss her. Said she needed to know if she’d think about Tammy while kissing me, and we couldn’t move forward until she found out. So we kissed.”

“And …?”

“She didn’t think about Tammy.”

“She said that?”

“She didn’t need to.” I give him a cocky smirk.

“Wow. Okay. So you’re dating again?”

I stab some green beans with my fork. “I don’t know.”

“You didn’t discuss that?”

“We didn’t really have time.”

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